Blue Gold

Chapter 33

The mood in the tenth-floor

NUMA conference room was as somber as a crepe hangers' convention. Admiral Sandecker hadn't expected Trout to attend the emergency meeting, given the dire reports from the hospital. The lanky ocean geologist looked like warmed-over spit, but Sandecker kept his thoughts to himself. Nothing he could say would dissuade Paul from joining the hunt for Gamay and Francesca.

Sandecker flashed Trout a reassuring smile and looked around the table. Flanking Paul in case he fell out of his chair were his NUMA colleagues Austin and Zavala. The fourth figure at the table, a slightly built, narrow-shouldered man whose heavy horn rimmed glasses gave him a professorial air, was NUMA operations director Rudi Gunn, second in command to the admiral.

Sandecker checked his watch. "Where's Yaeger?" His voice carried a hint of impatience.

Yaeger's special computer skills bought him latitude with the NUMA dress code, but not even the president would dare show up late for a Sandecker meeting. Especially one as important as this.

"He'll be along in a few minutes," Austin explained. "I asked Hiram to check out something that might have a bearing on our discussion."

A thought had been fluttering around like a butterfly inside

Austin's skull. He had allowed himself a few hours of sleep after coming in from Alaska. The rest must have refreshed his mind. On his way in from Virginia he caught the elusive notion in an imaginary net. Seconds later he was talking to Yaeger on his cell phone. The computer whiz was driving in from the fashionable section of Maryland where he lived with his artist wife and two teenage daughters. Austin quickly outlined his idea, asked Yaeger to follow through, and said he would cover for him at the meeting.

Sandecker got right down to business. "We have a mystery on our hands, gentlemen. Two people have been kidnapped and one attacked by unknown assailants. Kurt, would you bring us up to date?"

Austin nodded. "The D.C. police are investigating every possible lead. The city van was found abandoned near the Washing ton Monument. The vehicle had been stolen a few hours earlier. No trace of fingerprints was found. All the airports and train stations are being watched. With help from Paul, the FBI put together a composite of the leader of the gang, and it's being circulated with Interpol."

"I suspect they will get nowhere," Sandecker said. "The people we're dealing with are professionals. The job of finding Gamay and Dr. Cabral will be up to us. As you know, Rudi has been out of the country on assignment. I've kept him current as best as I could, but it might help if you quickly gave us a chronological summary of the situation."

Austin was prepared for the question. "This thing began ten years ago with the failed attempt to kidnap Francesca Cabral. Her plane crashed in the Venezuela rain forest, and it was assumed she was dead. Fast-forward ten years. Joe and I, quite literally, run into a dead pod of gray whales off San Diego. The whales died after being exposed to extreme heat emanating from an underwater facility off Baja California in Mexico. The facility blew up while we were investigating it. I talked to a Mexican mobster who was a front for the real owner, a California consulting firm called the Mulholland

Group. The mobster's lawyer confirmed that Mulholland in turn is part of a transnational conglomerate named the Gogstad Corporation. The mobster and his lawyer were assassinated shortly after they talked to us." "Rather spectacularly, as I recall," Sandecker noted.

"That's correct. These weren't exactly drive-by shootings. The murders were well planned, and the hit men used sophisticated weaponry."

"That would suggest well-organized assassins with extensive resources," said Gunn, who had once served as director of logistics at NUMA and was well acquainted with the difficulties in pulling together any operation.

"We came to the same conclusion," Austin agreed. "It was the kind of organization and resources that could be provided by a big corporation so motivated."

"Gogstad?"

Austin nodded.

"I'm not sure I understand the significance of the name Gogstad," Gunn said.

"The only connection I could find was the company logo. It shows the Gogstad Viking ship that was discovered back in the 1800s. I asked Hiram to see what he could dig up on the company. There isn't a lot. Even Max had problems finding information, but basically it's a huge conglomerate with holdings worldwide. It's run by a woman named Brynhild Sigurd."

"A woman," Gunn noted with surprise. "Interesting name. Brynhild was a Valkyrie, one of the Norse maidens who carry the fallen heroes from the battlefield to Valhalla. Sigurd was her lover. You don't suppose that was her real name, do you?"

"We don't know much about the woman."

"I know megacorporations can be ruthless in their business dealings," Gunn said with a shake of his head, "but we're talking about gangland methods here."

"That's the way it seems," Austin said. He turned to Zavala. "Joe, could you fill Rudi in on your findings?"

"Kurt called me in California with the Gogstad lead," Zavala said. "I talked to a newspaper reporter from the Los Angeles Times. He knew Gogstad quite well. In fact, he was heading an investigative team looking into the corporation. He told me they were doing a story on what he called the water pirates. It would reveal how Gogstad is cornering the world's supply of water."

"I can't believe it's possible for one company to control the world's water," Gunn said.

"I was pretty skeptical, too," Zavala replied. "But from what the reporter told me it's not that far-fetched. Gogstad's companies have legally taken over the privatization of the Colorado River. Water is going from public to private ownership on every continent. Gogstad has muscled out the competition. The re porter said that there have been deaths and disappearances worldwide over the past several years. The missing or dead were all people who competed with Gogstad or opposed Gogstad takeovers."

Gunn whistled softly. "That story should cause quite a stir when it hits the headlines."

"That won't happen any time soon. The paper killed the Gogstad story for no reason. The other three members of the investigative team have disappeared, and my friend has gone into hiding."

"You're sure there's no mistake," Gunn said with alarm.

Zavala slowly shook his head. There was silence in the room, then Gunn spoke.

"There's obviously a pattern, then," he said. "Let me think about this." Gunn's unprepossessing appearance was misleading. His graduation at the top of his class in the Naval Academy was no accident. He was a sheer genius, and his analytical skills were uncanny. He cradled his chin between his thumb and forefinger and lost himself in deep thought for a moment. "Something has changed," he said abruptly.

"What do you mean, Rudi?" Sandecker said.

"Their methodology has shifted gears. Let's assume that our basic premise is right and Gogstad is behind all this murder and mayhem. According to Joe, they have acted quietly. People quite simply vanished or were killed in so-called accidents. This changed with the murders of the Mexican and the crooked lawyer. I believe the word the admiral used to describe them was spectacular. "

Austin chuckled. "Those were love pats compared with the attack in Alaska. Joe and I had to contend with an all-out military assault."

"The attack on my house was on the heavy-handed side, too," Trout added.

"I think I see where you're headed with this, Rudi," Sandecker said. "Paul, how soon did word get out that Dr. Cabral was alive?"

"Almost immediately," Trout said. "Dr. Ramirez called Caracas from the helicopter that rescued us. The Venezuelan government lost no time making the news public. I would guess that CNN was broadcasting the story around the globe while we were still in the rain forest."

"Events accelerated shortly thereafter," Sandecker said. "The situation is clear to me. The catalyst was the news that Francesca Cabral was alive. Her emergence from the grave meant that her water-desalting process was again within the realm of possibility. With her expertise once more available, all that was needed was the rare substance that makes her process work. Dr. Cabral again planned to give her discovery to the world. The people who opposed this simply picked up where they left off ten years ago."

"Only this time they succeeded," Austin said.

"Okay, that explains Francesca's kidnapping," Trout said. "But why did they take Gamay?"

"This outfit does nothing at random," Austin replied. "Gamay may have been lucky. She might have been killed if they didn't have need of her. Is there anything else you can remember about the kidnapping, Paul?"

"I didn't see much after the first few minutes they were in the house. The leader, the guy in black leather, spoke with an ac cent I can't place. His pals had heavier accents."

Sandecker had been sitting back in his chair, fingers tented in front of him, listening to the conversational byplay. He snapped upright.

"These hoodlums are the small fry. We must go right to the top. We must find this woman with the Wagnerian name who runs Gogstad."

"She's a ghost," Austin said. "Nobody even knows where she lives."

"She and Gogstad are the key," Sandecker said firmly. "Do we know where their headquarters are?"

"They have offices in New York, Washington, and the West Coast. There must be a dozen scattered across Europe and Asia."

"Quite the hydra," Sandecker said.

"Even if we knew where their central office was, it wouldn't do much good. To outward appearances, Gogstad is a legitimate business. They'll deny any accusations we make."

Hiram Yaeger slipped quietly into the room and settled into a chair. "Sorry," he said. "I had to run some stuff off for the meeting." He looked expectantly at Austin, who took the cue.

"I was thinking about something Hiram showed me earlier. It was a hologram of a Viking ship. The same ship is the centerpiece of the Gogstad corporate logo. I reasoned that this ship must have some significance to be given such a prominent place. I asked Hiram to start playing around with Gogstad, to go beyond the scant corporate stuff Max dug up for us."

Yaeger nodded. "At Kurt's suggestion I asked Max to go back and brush over the historical and maritime links I had pretty much ignored before. Tons of material on the subject exist, as you might imagine. Kurt had said to look for a California connection, perhaps with the Mulholland Group. Max picked up an interesting newspaper story. A Norwegian designer of antique ships had come to California to do a replica of the Gogstad ship for a wealthy client."

"Who was the client?" Austin asked.

"The article didn't say. But it was easy to track down the Norwegian designer. I called him a few minutes ago and asked about the job. He had been sworn to secrecy, but it was years ago, and he didn't mind saying he built the replica for a big woman in a big house."

"Big woman?"

"He meant tall. A giantess."

"Sounds like a Scandinavian folktale. What's this about the house?"

"He said it was like a modern-day Viking compound on the shores of a large lake in California surrounded by mountains."

"Tahoe?"

"That was my conclusion."

"A big Viking house on the shores of Lake Tahoe. Shouldn't be too hard to find."

"Already done. Max linked up to a commercial satellite." Yaeger passed around copies of the satellite photos. "There are some big places around the lake, trophy homes, resorts and hotels. But nothing like this."

The first picture showed the icy blue waters of Lake Tahoe viewed from a high altitude as if it were a puddle. In another photo the camera had zoomed down on a dot alongside the lake, enlarging the details so that the sprawling building and the nearby helicopter pad were clear.

"Does this hovel have an owner?" Austin said.

"I was able to tap into the local assessor's office and tax data base." Yaeger grinned. If he had a tail he'd be wagging it. "It's owned by a realty trust."

"That doesn't give us much to go on."

"How about this, then? The trust is part of the Gogstad Corporation."

Sandecker looked up from the photos. He had kept his famous temper in control throughout the meeting, but he was furious at the kidnapping of one of his favored staffers and the wounding of another. He was enraged, too, after all she had suffered, at the abduction of the lovely Dr. Cabral. Once again a discovery with lifesaving implications was being kept from the world.

"Thank you, Hiram." He glanced around the table with cold, commanding blue eyes. "Well, gentlemen," he said with a voice as sharp-edged as a razor. "We know what we have to do."