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r pairs of eyes scanned the dense forest looking for the outlet。
Gamay； who was in the lead canoe； pointed with her paddle toward the shore。 〃I see it over there； where the tree line is bro ken。 Oh； hell…〃
They all saw the source of Gamay's agitation： the flicker of blue and white as three canoes had e out of the river。
〃It's a hunting party；〃 Francesca said； squinting against the sun's reflection。 〃They've been away and won't know we're escaping。 I'm still their queen as far as they know。 I'll try to bluff my way。 Head right at them。〃
Gamay and Paul put their misgivings aside and kept the dugouts pointed toward the newers。 The men in the oning canoes showed no sign of hostility； and a couple of them even waved。 There was shouting from shore。 Alaric and his men had burst from the forest。 They were calling and beckoning to the hunting party。 The canoes hesitated； then； as the yelling grew louder； they pointed the dugouts toward land。 The craft had barely touched shore when the hunters were ejected and the chase party took their place。
Their prey had taken advantage of the slight pause and paddled madly for the river； but their pursuers quickly cut down the angle。
〃We can't make it to the river！〃 Gamay yelled。 〃They'll cut us off。〃
〃Maybe we can lose them in the mists；〃 Paul replied。
Gamay spun the dugout around and pointed the bow toward the falls。 Paul and Tessa were right behind。 The water became choppy as they neared the falls。 The Indians doggedly kept in pursuit。 With their strength and skill they were rapidly closing the gap。 The falls loomed closer and the mists enveloped them； but it became apparent that they would be pounded to pieces by the falls if they got closer to the torrents。
Paul shouted over the roar。 〃Francesca； we need help from your bag of tricks。〃
Francesca shook her head。
Tessa picked up on Paul's frantic plea。 〃I have something；〃 she said。 She handed over the sack that had rested between her knees。 Paul reached into the bag； and his fingers closed on a hard object。 He pulled out a 9mm pistol。
〃Where did this e from？〃 he said with astonishment。
〃It was Dieter's。〃
Paul looked back at the oning canoes； then at the cascading falls。 He had little choice。 Regardless of Francesca's wishes that her former subjects not be hurt； they were between the devil and the deep blue sea。 Arrows were flying in their direction。
Paul plunged his hand into the bag again； looking for extra rounds。 This time he came out with a GlobalStar satellite phone。 Dieter must have used it to keep in touch with his buyers。 He stared at it a moment before the significance of the find sank in。 He yelled with joy。
Gamay had moved closer and saw the phone。 〃Does that thing work？〃
He pushed the ready light； and the phone was on。 〃I'll be damned。〃 Paul handed Gamay the phone。 〃Give it a try。 I'll see if I can scare those guys off。〃
Gamay punched a number out on the phone。 Seconds later a familiar deep voice answered。
〃Kurt！〃 Gamay yelled into the phone。 〃It's me。〃
〃Gamay？ We've been worried about you。 Are you and Paul okay？〃
She glanced at the oning canoes and swallowed hard。 〃We're in a hell of a mess； and that's an understatement。〃 She had to shout over the roar of the falls。 〃Can't talk； I'm calling on a GlobalStar。 Can you get a fix on our position？〃
Crack！
Paul had laid a shot across the bow of Alaric's canoe； but it failed to slow him down。
〃Was that a gun？〃
〃That was Paul shooting。〃
〃Hard to hear you with that background noise。 Hold on。〃
The seconds ticked by like years。 Gamay had no illusions about her call。 Even with a position fix it could be days before someone came to their aid。 At least Austin would know what happened to them。 Austin's voice came back on； calm and reassuring。 〃We've got a lock on you。〃
〃Good。 Gotta go！〃 Gamay answered； ducking low as an arrow whizzed past like an angry bee。
With Gamay and Paul busy； their canoes had drifted side ways to the waves。 They dug their paddles in and got the boats around。 Both dugouts rocked dangerously； but they moved closer to the falls where the mists might hide them。
The Indians hesitated； then； sensing the end was near； began their strange ululation。 The archers were kneeling in the bow。 They could stand off and let arrows fly at their helpless targets。
Paul had lost all patience。 He raised the handgun and took a bead on Alaric。 If he killed the leader the others might run for it。 Francesca yelled。 He thought she was trying to spoil his shot； but the white queen was pointing toward the top of the falls。
What looked like a huge insect flew over the crest of the falls and descended rapidly through the rainbows and the cloud of mist until it was a hundred feet above the lake。 The helicopter hovered for an instant； then swooped low and buzzed the war canoes。 The archers dropped their bows； grabbed their paddles； and stroked madly for shore。
Paul lowered the pistol and grinned at Gamay。 They began to paddle back toward the quieter waters of the lake。 The helicopter circled around the lake； then came back and hovered above the dugouts。 A smiling figure with a bushy silver mustache and deep…set eyes leaned out a side door and waved。 It was Dr。 Ramirez。
The phone rang。 It was Austin。 〃Gamay； are you and Paul all right？〃
〃We're fine；〃 she said； laughing with relief。 〃Thanks for sending the taxi。 But you're going to explain how you pulled this one off。 This is something； even for the great Kurt Austin。〃
〃Tell you about it later。 See you tomorrow。 I need you back here。 Be ready to work。〃
A ladder was being lowered out of the chopper。
Ramirez signaled for Francesca to go first。 She hesitated； then grabbed the lower rung and； as befitting a white goddess； began to climb into the sky from which she had descended ten years before。
Chapter 26
Sandy Wheeler was getting into her Honda Civic when the strange man approached and asked in accented English how to get to the Los Angeles Times advertising department。 Instinctively she hugged her purse close to her body and glanced around。 She was relieved to see other people in the newspaper's garage。 She had grown up in L。A。 and was used to freaks。 But she was jumpy lately handling this crazy water story； and even the cute； pearl…handled 。22…caliber pistol in her pocketbook wasn't totally reassuring。 The stranger looked as if he could chew the barrel off her gun with his metal teeth。
Wheeler had the reporter's ability to take in people at a glance； and what she saw was someone who looked as if he played the bad guy for the WWF。 He was her height and would have been taller if he had a neck。 The dark green sweatsuit was a couple of sizes too small for a square； powerful body that looked as if it had been assembled from refrigerator parts。 The roundish； grinning face framed by the Prussian…cut dirty blond hair re minded her of one of the monsters in Maurice Sendak's Where the Wild Things Are。 Only uglier。 But it was the eyes that got her。 The irises were so black that the pupils were practically invisible。
After giving the man hurried directions； Sandy got into her car and instantly locked the doors。 She didn't care how unfriendly the gesture looked。 As she backed out of her space he seemed to be in no rush to go to the advertising department。 He stood there staring at her with eyes as hard as marbles。 She was in her thirties； with long chestnut hair； an athletic body from jogging and working out。 Her nut…brown face was taut and angular but not unattractive； dominated by large sky…blue eyes。 She was pretty enough to attract occasional attention from the odd characters who seemed to drop from the palm trees around town。 She was street…smart and had gained a layer of emotional calluses working as a police reporter before being assigned to the investigative team。 She didn't spook easily； but this creep gave her the shivers。 It went beyond appearances。 There was some thing of the grave about him。
She checked her rearview mirror and was surprised to see that the man had disappeared。 Easy e； easy go； she thought。 She scolded herself for letting him sneak up on her。 Growing up in L。A。； she had learned early on to be aware of her surroundings at all times。 This damned water story had preoccupied her； taken the edge off her alertness。 Cohen had promised only a couple more days before they ran the story。 Not soon enough。 She was getting sick of taking the file disks home。 Cohen was positively paranoid about leaving them in the building。 Every night he cleaned the files off the puter and put them on backup disks。 In the mornings he would load them back on。
Not that Sandy blamed him for being paranoid。 There was something special about this story。 The team had talked Pulitzer prize。 Cohen coordinated the work of the three reporters。 Her area was the Mulholland Group and its mysterious president； Brynhild Sigurd。 The other two reporters concentrated respectively on domestic acquisitions and international connections。 They had access to an accountant and a lawyer。 The secrecy was tighter than the Manhattan Project。 The editor was aware of the story but not its scope。 She sighed。 The story would be out in a few days； and she could take that long vacation in Maui。
She swung out of the garage and headed to her condo in Culver City。 She stopped off at a shopping plaza and picked up a bottle of California Zinfandel。 Cohen was ing over later to talk about wrapping up loose ends； and she had promised to whip up a pot of penne。 As she was paying the cashier she noticed someone standing in front of the window looking into the store。 It was that damned metal…tooth creep； and he was smiling。 This was no coincidence。 The jerk must have followed her。 She glared at him as she exited the store； then strode purposefully to ward her car。 First she dug the pistol out of the purse and tucked it in her belt。 Then she called Cohen on her cell phone。 He had told her to report anything unusual。 Cohen wasn't there； but she left a message on his recorder saying she was on her way home and that she thought she was being followed。
Starting the car； she pulled slowly out of the plaza； then gunned the engine and shot through an intersection just as the light changed to red。 The cars behind her all stopped。 She knew the neighborhood well and cut through a couple of motel parking lots； then down a side street in a circular route to her apartment。 Her heart was beating rapidly as she drove； but her pulse slowed to normal when she pulled up in front of the sanctuary of the condominium building。 She buzzed herself into the five story apartment building and took the elevator up to the fourth floor。 She stepped out of the elevator and almost dropped her groceries in surprise。 The creep was at the far end of the hallway。 He stood there with that insane grin； staring at her。 That did it。 She put the bag on the floor； pulled her pistol from her belt； and pointed it at him。
〃You e any nearer； and I'll blast your private parts off；〃 she said。
He made no motion。 If anything； the grin got wider。
She wondered how he had got there ahead of her。 Of course。 He must have known her address。 While she was zigzagging in an attempt to lose him； he had simply driven directly to her apartment。 That didn't explain how he had got into the building。 The management was going to get an earful about the lack of security。 Maybe she'd even do a story on it。
Still keeping the pistol leveled； she fumbled in her purse for her keys； opened the door； and quickly shut it。 Safe at last。 She put the pistol on a small table； snapped the deadbolt and chain lock； and put her eye to the peephole in the door。 The creep was standing just outside； his face distorted even more grotesquely by the lens。 He was holding her bag of groceries as if he were a delivery boy。 The nerve of him。 She swore lustily。 She wasn't going to screw around with Cohen this time。 A straight call to 91 1 to report she was being stalked。 She suddenly had the odd feeling that she wasn't alone。
She turned from the door and stared with unbelieving eyes