Clive Cussler - Serpent

"They came all the way from Utah to bury these things?" Austin said.

Nina shrugged. "There was worldwide controversy. Some experts said that the depth of the objects and the caliche crust proved they could not have been a hoax unless it was perpetrated before Columbus. The skeptics found the written phrases were similar to those in Latin grammar books. Someone said the artifacts could have been left by a political exile from the time of Maximilian, whom Napoleon placed on the Mexican throne."

"What happened to the artifacts?"

"The university decided the project had become too commercial. They've been stored in a bank ever since. No money was available to continue excavations."

"I think I see where we're going with this," Austin said. After all this time, money has been found for the excavation. And my guess is it comes out of the NUMA budget."

"Uhhuh. We're saying that the expedition is being financed by a wealthy backer who wants to remain anonymous. This Person has been fascinated by the story since he was a child and would like to see the mystery cleared up once and for all. Magnetometer readings showed some interesting possibilities at an abandoned ranch near the original excavation site. We dug there and found a Roman relic."

"Quite a story," Zavala said. "Think anyone will buy it?"

"We know they will. The papers and TV stations have already run articles that have helped to give us credibility. When we got in touch with Time-Quest they knew about the project and were eager to help."

They gave you money?" Austin said.

"We didn't ask for any. We did request volunteers. They sent two of them. In return, they asked, as was their custom, to be notified before the press of any unusual find. Which we've already done."

Austin was thinking ahead. "With all this publicity it's going to be pretty hard to make an expedition disappear off the face of the earth."

"The admiral talked about that. He thinks the public nature of the dig will discourage assassination attempts. They'll try to steal or destroy the relic."

"Maybe they won't come in with guns blazing, but I wouldn't advise standing in their way if that's the case," Zavala said.

"When did you tell Time-Quest about the artifact?" Austin asked.

"Three days ago. They asked us to hold off telling anybody else for seventy-two hours."

"Which means they'll make their move tonight"

Nina briefed them on the excavation. She was the project archaeologist. The NUMA staff's undersea backgrounds were being tweaked to give them more landoriented credentials. Trout had easily switched into the role of geologist. Austin would be billed vaguely as an engineer Zavala as a metallurgist.

The truck continued climbing to the high desert country on the fringe of Tucson. It was late afternoon when they left the main highway and bumped down a dirt road past stands of mesquite, chulo, and cactus. They stopped where two Winnebago RVs and several other vehicles were clustered near a crumbling .pile of adobe bricks. Austin got out and surveyed the location. Old rock walls more or less defined the abandoned ranch. The rays of the afternoon sun filtering through the buildup of clouds gave the desert a coppery tint.

Trout's lank form came striding over, hand extended. He wore khakis that looked as if they had just come off a clothes rack at the Gap, a button down pinstriped dress shirt, and a paisley bow tie that was smaller and slightly less flamboyant than his usual neckwear. The only concession to the grunt nature of an archaeological dig were his work boots, although the leather looked as if he had just buffed it with a cloth.

"Got in from DC this morning with Nina," he explained. "C'mon, I'll show you around." He led the way behind the ruins of the old hacienda to a low hill where a patch of ground had been staked out into a grid. An older couple was working at a framework made of wood and wire mesh. The man was shoveling dirt into the screen, and the woman was culling out objects trapped by the wire mesh and placing them in plastic bags. Trout made the introductions. George and Harriet Wingate were a handsome couple who could have been in their late sixties or early seventies but displayed the fitness and energy of younger people. They were from Washington, they said.

"That's the state of Washington," Mrs. Wingate corrected with a proud smile.

"Spokane," clarified her husband, a tall man with silver hair and beard.

"Nice town," Austin said.

"Thank you," the husband said. "Thanks, too,, for coming by to lend a hand. This archaeology stuff is slightly harder than eighteen holes of golf. Can't believe we're actually paying to do this work."

"Oh, listen to him. He wouldn't have missed a chance like this for the world. George, why don't you tell. them about the Indian Jones hat you want to buy?"

Her husband pointed to the sun. "That's Indiana Jones, dear. Like the state. Just trying to avoid sunstroke," he said with a grin that was almost hidden behind his bushy white whiskers.

After exchanging further pleasantries the new arrivals were led over to the excavation. Two men were on their knees in adjoining shallow rectangular pits scraping the dirt away with garden trowels. Austin recognized them as ex-navy SEALS who had been attached to the NUMA team on previous assignments. Sandecker was taking no chances. These were two of the top men from NUMAs security division. The taller man, whom Austin knew simply by the name of Ned, had the classic broad shoulders and narrow waist of a bodybuilder. The trowel looked like a toothpick in his hand. Carl, his shorter companion, was wirier, but Austin knew from past experience that he was the more deadly of the two.

"How's it going?" Nina said.

Ned laughed. "Okay, but nobody's told me what we do if we actually find something."

"I told him to rebury it," Carl said laconically.

"That may not be a bad idea," Austin said. "Beats explaining what a couple of NUMA divers are doing in the middle of the Arizona desert." He'd been going over in his mind what Nina had told him about the Moroccan incident. "Did any strangers drop by today?"

Trout and the other two men exchanged glances, then burst out laughing.

"If you mean strange people, we've had more than our share. It's amazing the type of loonies a project like this attracts."

"Dunno if you're being fair," Carl said. "One guy suggested I look for traces of UFO Atlantis connections. All seemed quite reasonable to me by the time I got through talking to him."

"About as reasonable as this whole operation," Austin said with a wry grin. Anyone else?"

"A couple of people showed up with cameras and notepads," Trout said. "Said they were.' reporters or from newspapers."

"Did they have ID?"

"We didn't ask. Seemed like a waste of time. If these guys are as organized as we think they are, they'd have phony credentials. We've had lots of sightseers and volunteers, We've told them we're just doing the preliminary stuff, took their names, and said we'd contact them. Everyone's being videotaped by the remote surveillance camera on top of that cactus."

Austin was thinking about the battle aboard the Nereus when they had to fend off the group of well-armed attackers. As defenders they had the element of surprise and luck But the scars he and Zavala bore testified that events easily could have gone the other way Even these tough ersatz ditch diggers would be quickly overwhelmed by an attack in force.

"What kind of backup do we have?" he asked.

"We've got six men in that old gas station just before the turnoff," Ned said. "They can be here less than five minutes after they get the signal. We've timed them." He touched the pager at his belt. "I punch a button, and they're on their way"

Austin's eyes swept his surroundings then scanned the distant mountains. Strangely, for a man of the sea, he always felt at home in the desert. There were similarities between the two environments, the endless vistas, the potential for violent weather changes, and the pitiless hostility toward human life.