cussler.blueandgold-第66节

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　〃Anything　you　want；〃　Brynhild　said。　She　waved　over　several　technicians。　〃Dr。　Cabral　is　to　have　whatever　she　requests；　do　you　understand？〃　She　barked　an　order；　and　another　technician　came　over　carrying　a　battered　aluminum　suitcase。　Brynhild　took　it　from　the　man　and　handed　it　to　Francesca。　〃I　believe　this　belongs　to　you。　We　found　it　at　your　friends'　house。　I　must　leave　you　now。　Call　when　you　are　about　to　run　a　test。〃
　
　As　Francesca　ran　her　hand　lovingly　over　the　suitcase　that　contained　the　original　working　model　for　her　process；　Brynhild　strode　off　toward　the　elevator。　Within　minutes　she　was　back　in　her　turret　room。　She　had　summoned　the　Kradzik　brothers　on　a　portable　phone；　and　they　were　waiting　for　her　when　she　returned。
　
　〃After　all　these　years　of　waiting　and　disappointments；　the　Cabral　process　will　soon　be　ours；〃　she　announced　with　triumph。
　
　〃How　long？〃　one　of　the　twins　asked。
　
　〃It　should　be　up　and　running　within　twenty…four　hours。〃
　
　〃No；〃　said　the　other　twin；　the　light　glittering　on　his　metal　teeth。　〃How　long　before　we　can　have　the　women　to　play　with？〃
　
　She　should　have　known。　The　brothers　were　programmed　like　malevolent　puters　to　carry　out　torture　and　murder。　Brynhild　had　no　intention　of　letting　Francesca　live　after　she　had　delivered　the　process。　Part　of　her　treachery　stemmed　from　her　envy　of　Francesca's　scientific　prowess　and　beauty。　Part　was　pure　vindictiveness。　The　Brazilian　woman　had　cost　her　in　time　and　money。　She　had　nothing　in　particular　against　Gamay。　Brynhild　simply　didn't　like　loose　ends。
　
　Her　smile　brought　the　already　low　temperature　in　the　room　down　another　ten　degrees。
　
　〃Soon；〃　she　said。
　
　Chapter　37
　The　night　shift　guard　was　having　a　cigarette　at　the　end　of　the　Valhalla　pier　when　his　relief　man　arrived　and　asked　for　a　report。　The　swarthy　ex…Marine　squinted　out　at　the　sun…sparkled　lake　and　flicked　the　butt　into　the　water。　〃It's　been　busier'n　a　one…legged　man　at　a　kick…ass　contest；〃　he　replied　in　an　Alabama　drawl。　〃Choppers　ing　and　going　all　night。〃
　
　The　relief　guard；　a　former　Green　Beret；　looked　up　at　the　whup…whup　sound　of　an　approaching　helicopter。　〃Looks　like　more　guests　are　arriving。〃
　
　〃What's　going　on？〃　the　Alabaman　said。　〃I　don't　hear　much　working　nights　and　sleeping　days。〃
　
　〃Bunch　of　big　shots　are　ing　in　for　a　meeting。　We　got　the　full　crew　on；　and　security　around　the　pound's　tight　as　a　tick's　ass。〃　He　glanced　toward　the　lake。　〃There's　the　ol'　Tahoe　Queen；　right　on　time。〃
　
　He　brought　his　binoculars　up　and　focused　on　the　stern　wheeler　as　it　crawled　toward　the　north　end　of　the　lake。　The　Tahoe　Queen　looked　like　something　out　of　Showboat。　The　boat　was　painted　white；　like　vanilla　frosting；　with　light　blue　trim　that　marked　the　divide　between　the　enclosed　first　and　second　decks。　Two　tall　black　smoke　stacks　were　located　at　the　front。　The　paddle　wheels　that　churned　up　the　placid　lake　water　and　gave　the　boat　its　forward　motion　were　painted　fire…engine　red。　The　top　deck　rail　was　overhung　with　red；　white；　and　blue　bunting。　Flags　fluttered　in　the　breeze。　
　
　　〃Hmm；〃　the　guard　said；　surveying　the　deck。　〃Not　many　tourists　aboard　today。〃
　
　The　guard　would　have　been　less　sanguine　if　he　knew　the　same　coral…green　eyes　that　had　scrutinized　him　the　day　before　from　the　parasail　were　watching　him　again。　Austin　stood　inside　the　pilothouse　that　was　perched　like　a　cigar　box　on　the　top　for　ward　deck。　He　was　studying　the　guards　and　assessing　their　state　of　alertness。　Austin　could　see　that　the　men　were　armed；　but　their　lackadaisical　posture　suggested　a　bored　attitude。
　
　The　boat's　captain；　a　weathered　lake　veteran　from　Emerald　Bay；　was　at　the　helm。　〃Want　me　to　drop　the　Queen's　speed　down　a　couple　of　knots？〃　the　captain　asked。
　
　The　paddle　wheeler　was　a　charming　anachronism　built　more　for　fort　than　for　speed。　Any　slower　and　it　would　stop；　Austin　thought。　〃I'd　keep　it　steady；　captain。　Launch　shouldn't　be　a　problem。〃　He　checked　out　the　pier　again　and　saw　that　one　of　the　guards　was　leaving　and　the　other　ducked　into　the　shade　of　a　shelter。　Austin　hoped　the　man　would　take　a　nap。
　
　He　extended　his　hand。　〃Thanks　for　your　cooperation；　captain。　Hope　we　didn't　disappoint　your　regular　customers　by　chartering　your　boat　at　the　last　minute。〃
　
　〃I　just　drive　this　old　girl　back　and　forth　no　matter　who's　on　it。　Besides；　this　is　a　lot　more　exciting　than　a　boatload　of　day　trippers。〃
　
　The　captain's　excitement　had　e　at　a　price。　The　boat　line　was　reluctant　to　lose　a　day's　revenue；　and　it　took　deep　pockets　and　high…level　calls　from　Washington　to　persuade　it　to　charter　the　paddle　wheeler　for　official　business。
　
　〃Glad　to　help　make　your　day；〃　Austin　said。　〃Got　to　go。　Just　keep　steaming　after　you　drop　us　off。〃
　
　〃How　will　you　get　back？〃
　
　〃We're　working　on　that；〃　Austin　said　with　a　grin。
　
　Austin　left　the　pilothouse　and　descended　to　the　spacious　salon　on　the　lowest　deck。　On　a　normal　day　the　salon　would　be　crowded　with　tourists　eating　and　drinking　as　they　took　in　the　magnificent　scenery。　Only　two　people　were　in　the　salon；　Joe　and
　Paul。　Zavala　was　already　in　his　black…hooded　Viking　Pro　military　dry　suit；　and　Trout　was　going　over　a　checklist。　Austin　lost　no　time　suiting　up。　Then　he　and　Zavala　went　through　an　opening　in　the　side　of　the　boat　that　was　used　to　let　passengers　on　and　off。
　
　They　would　have　stepped　directly　into　the　lake　if　not　for　a　wooden　platform　slung　alongside　the　stern　wheeler。　The　raft　floated　on　ocean　salvage　tubes；　elongated　pontoons　made　of　tough　nylon　fabric　and　capable　of　lifting　several　tons　of　weight。　The　assembly　had　been　cobbled　together　in　the　late　hours　of　the　morning。　Contos　was　on　the　raft　making　sure　they　hadn't　made　any　major　mistakes　in　hastily　putting　the　thing　together。
　
　〃How's　she　look？〃　Austin　said。
　
　〃Not　quite　as　good　as　the　one　Huckleberry　Finn　used　on　the　Mississippi；〃　Contos　said　with　a　shake　of　his　head。　〃But　she'll　do　in　a　pinch；　I　think。〃
　
　〃Thanks　for　your　unqualified　endorsement　of　our　building　skills；〃　Zavala　said。
　
　As　he　stepped　off　the　raft；　Contos　rolled　his　eyes。　〃Look　guys；　please　try　not　to　lose　the　SeaBus。　It's　tough　as　hell　to　run　a　test　program　without　something　to　test。〃
　
　Without　its　protective　covering；　the　SeaBus　looked　like　a　fat　plastic　sausage。　It　was　a　small　workhorse　version　of　a　tourist　sub　working　in　Florida；　designed　to　take　crews　to　and　from　underwater　jobs　of　moderate　depth。　It　carried　up　to　six　passengers　and　their　gear　in　a　transparent　pressure　hull　of　acrylic　plastic。　The　hull　rested　on　fat；　round　skids　that　carried　the　hard　ballast；　trim；　drop　weights；　and　thrusters。　Higher　on　the　sides　were　additional　ballast　tanks　and　pressed　air　containers。　The　external　structures　were　attached　to　the　pressure　hull　by　a　tough　ring　frame。　The　two…seat　cockpit　was　at　the　front。　In　the　aft　section　was　the　electrical；　hydraulic；　and　mechanical　heart　of　the　sub　and　an　air　lock　that　allowed　divers　to　go　in　and　out　while　the　SeaBus　was　submerged。
　
　Trout　stuck　his　head　out　of　the　stern　wheeler。　〃We're　ing　up　on　target；〃　he　said；　checking　his　watch。　〃Three　minutes　to　launch。〃　
　
　　〃We're　as　ready　as　we'll　ever　be；〃　Austin　said。　〃How　about　you；　Paul？〃
　
　〃Finest　kind；　cap；〃　he　said　with　a　lopsided　grin。
　
　Trout　was　far　from　fine。　Despite　his　stolid　Yankee　facade；　he　was　worried　about　Gamay　and　desperately　wanted　to　go　on　the　mission。　He　knew　that　with　his　bad　arm　he　would　just　get　in　the　way。　Austin　convinced　Trout　that　they　needed　someone　with　a　level　head　above　water　to　call　in　the　troops　in　case　the　situation　got　dicey。
　
　A　crane　had　been　brought　in　to　lift　the　submersible　from　the　truck　onto　the　raft。　The　stern　wheeler　left　early　in　the　morning　before　the　waterfront　got　busy。　The　boat　hunkered　offshore　until　it　was　time　to　make　its　usual　crossing。　Even　with　its　heavy　load　the　raft　pitched　and　yawed　as　it　was　towed　along。　Austin　and　Zavala　had　to　brace　themselves　as　they　knelt　at　the　rear；　each　man　above　one　of　the　lift　bags。　On　signal　they　simultaneously　stabbed　the　rubber　pontoons　with　their　dive　knives。　The　air　shot　out　in　a　loud　hiss　that　rapidly　turned　to　a　flatulent　bubbling。　Squeezed　between　the　water　and　the　raft；　the　pontoons　rapidly　deflated。　As　the　back　of　the　raft　settled　into　the　water；　they　un　hooked　the　tie　lines　securing　the　SeaBus。　Then　they　scrambled　through　the　aft　hatch；　made　sure　all　was　tight；　and　settled　into　the　cockpit。
　
　The　front　of　the　raft　tilted　upward　at　an　angle。　Then；　as　the　lift　bags　deflated；　it　leveled　out　and　began　to　sink。　It　was　a　primitive　launching　system　for　such　a　sophisticated　craft；　but　it　worked。　The　SeaBus　maintained　its　buoyancy　as　the　raft　sank　and　was　pulled　out　by　the　forward　motion　of　the　paddle　wheeler。　The　submersible　danced　in　the　larger　boat's　wake　and　sank　into　the　foam　kicked　up　by　the　stern　paddles。　As　they　gained　depth　the　water　changed　from　blue…green　to　blue…black。
　
　Austin　adjusted　the　ballast；　and　the　sub　attained　neutral　buoyancy　at　fifty　feet。　The　battery…driven　motors　whined　as　Zavala　goosed　the　throttle　and　pointed　the　submersible　toward　shore。　They　were　lucky　to　have　no　current　pushing　against　the　round；　almost　blunt　bow　of　the　submersible　and　could　k