The Navigator - Cussler Clive - Страница 25
- Предыдущая
- 25/88
- Следующая
The money arrangement was quite generous for virtually no work, and she had used it to furnish her apartment and buy a secondhand BMW. She was pleased to earn her pay at last. She was disappointed to hear a recorded voice which told her to leave a message. She gave the recorder a brief summary of the Jefferson findings and hung up. She experienced a moment of panic when she realized that the call may have ended her service to the unknown paymaster. But after a moment’s reflection, she concluded with a smile that the Jefferson file could start her off on a new and lucrative career as well.
She would not have been as sanguine had she known that her call could have far more lethal repercussions. Nor would she have been pleased to know that in another part of the American Philosophical Society building, her assistant sat at her desk making a phone call of her own.
Chapter 14
AUSTIN WAS HAVING HIS RIBS bandaged by a ship’s officer who doubled as a medical technician when the sick bay door opened and Captain Lange walked in with Carina on his arm.
“I found this young lady wandering about the ship,” Lange said to Austin, who was sitting on an examining table. “She tells me a knight in shining armor saved her life.”
“My armor has a few chinks in it,” Austin said. In addition to his creased rib, his face was bruised and knuckles were lacerated from the battering he’d suffered during his climb up the pilot’s ladder.
“I’m very sorry about your injuries,” Carina said.
Carina’s face was swollen where the crewman named Juan had punched her. Even with her lopsided jaw, Carina was a striking woman. She was long-legged and slender, and had a head-turning physical presence about her. Her cinnamon-and-cream complexion set off bright blue eyes under perfectly arched brows. Shoulder-length sable hair was tied back away from her face.
“Thanks,” Austin said, “it’s just a scratch. The bullet only grazed me. I’m more concerned about you.”
“You’re very kind. I put a cold compress on my face and that reduced the swelling. The inside of my mouth is a little raw, but my teeth are intact.”
“I’m greatly relieved. You’ll need your all teeth when we have dinner together.”
Carina displayed a crooked smile. “We haven’t even been properly introduced, Mr. Austin.”
Austin extended his hand. “Please call me Kurt, Miss Mechadi.”
“Very well, Kurt. Call me Carina. How did you know my name?”
“This gentleman, who is doing such a fine job patching me up, said that you were a passenger on the ship, and that you’re with the United Nations. Beyond those sketchy details, you are a mystery, Carina.”
“Not mysterious at all. I’m an investigator with UNESCO. My job is to track down stolen antiquities. If anyone is a mystery, it is Kurt Austin. You’re the one who rose from the sea like a merman and saved the ship and the oil platform after you rescued me.”
“The captain deserves most of the credit. He steered the ship away from the rig. If I had been at the helm, we’d all be picking crude oil out of our front teeth.”
“Kurt is being far too modest,” Lange admonished. “He freed me and my crew. While I steered the ship, he fought off the hijackers and saved a piece from your cargo.”
Carina’s face lit up. “You saved the Navigator?”
Austin nodded. “There’s a large object wrapped in canvas sitting on the deck. Might be your statue.”
“I’ll have it moved immediately to a safe place,” Lange said. He called the bridge on his pocket radio and ordered his first mate to round up a work crew.
The mate said that a Coast Guard cutter was on its way and that the shipowners’ representatives were flying in. The captain excused himself and the medical technician went with him, after handing Austin some painkillers.
“I’m curious,” Austin said. “What’s so special about the Navigator?”
“That is what’s so odd,” Carina said with furrowed brow. “The statue is not terribly valuable and may even be a fake.”
“In that case, let’s talk about things we do know about. Like our dinner date.”
“How could I forget your unexpected invitation, especially after your sudden appearance? But first tell me where on earth you came from.”
“Not on earth. On the sea. I was in the neighborhood lassoing icebergs.”
Carina glanced at Austin’s broad shoulders. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he wrestled icebergs. She assumed he was joking until he explained what he had been doing on the Leif Eriksson.
Carina had encountered scores of memorable men in the course of travels around the world, But Austin was truly unique. He had risked his life to save hundreds of people and property worth millions of dollars, fought off hijackers, even killing one of them to rescue her. Yet he was flirting like an impetuous schoolboy. Her eyes roamed over his hard, tanned body. From the looks of the pale scars marking his bronze skin, this wasn’t the first time he had put himself in danger and had paid a price for it.
Carina reached out to touch a circular scar on Austin’s prominent right bicep. She was about to ask if it were a gunshot wound, but, just then, the door opened and a slender, dark-complexioned man stepped into the sick bay.
Joe Zavala’s eyes widened in surprise, and then his lips turned up at the corners in his trademark half smile. He had heard that Austin was being treated for a wound. No one had told him about the lovely young woman who seemed to be caressing his friend’s arm.
“I stopped by to see how you were doing,” Zavala said. “From the looks of things, you’re doing pretty well.”
“Carina, this gentleman is Joe Zavala, my friend and colleague. We’re both with the National Underwater and Marine Agency. Joe piloted the boat that brought me over to the ship. Don’t be alarmed by his piratical looks. He’s quite harmless.”
“Nice to meet you, Carina.” Zavala gestured at Austin’s bandage. “Are you okay? You both look a little banged-up.”
“Yes, we’re quite the couple.” Carina said. She blushed at the implication in her comment and removed her hand from Austin’s arm.
Austin went to her rescue and brought the conversation back to himself. “I’m a little stiff around the ribs. Bad bruising, and scrapes in a few other places.”
“Nothing a shot or two of tequila wouldn’t help,” Zavala said.
“I can see you are in good hands,” Carina said. “If you don’t mind, I’ll go see how the crew is doing with my statue. Thanks again for all you have done.”
Zavala gazed at the door after it had closed behind Carina and let out a whooping laugh that was uncharacteristic of his usual quiet-spoken demeanor.
“Only Kurt Austin could find an angel like Miss Mechadi out here in the fogbound reaches of Iceberg Alley. And they call me a Romeo.”
Austin rolled his eyes. He slid off the table, pulled on a borrowed blue denim work shirt and buttoned up the front.
“Captain Dawe holding up okay?”
“He’s reached the end of his joke repertoire and has begun to recycle old ones.”
“Sorry about that, old pal.”
“He says he’ll stand by another day, but then he’s got to go chase Moby-Berg. So you’re not off the hook yet.”
“How’d you get aboard? Last I knew, the pilot’s ladder was cut.”
“They must have dug up a spare. You had a tough time climbing on board. What happened?”
“I’ll lay out the whole sordid tale over a cup of coffee.”
They headed for the mess hall, where they poured themselves steaming mugs of coffee and devoured a couple of tall pastrami sandwiches on pumpernickel. Starting with the close call boarding the Ocean Adventure, Austin gave Zavala a detailed account of his exploits on the containership.
“Someone went through a lot of expense and trouble to steal this statue,” Zavala said, after pursing his lips in a low whistle.
“Seems that way. It takes money to buy helicopters and organization to mount a hijacking at sea. Not to mention the connections needed to put a couple of moles on board to welcome the hijackers.”
- Предыдущая
- 25/88
- Следующая
