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The woman stopped and stood for a moment, hands on hips as if she were lost, then she walked over to the Jeep. "I don't understand it," she said, her brow wrinkled in puzzlement. "We were camped right here. The tents, the. vans. Everything has vanished."

The captain turned to the broadshouldered man whose hair was the color of the snow on the Atlas Mountains. "Perhaps Mademoiselle is mistaken about the location."

Nina glared at the police offices "Mademoiselle is not mistaken."

He sighed. "These people who attacked you. Bandits?"

She considered the suggestion. "No, I don't think they were bandits."

Mustapha gave a Gallic shrug worthy of a Parisian boulevardier, lit up a Gauloise, and pushed his visor back over his black hair. He was somewhat uncomfortable at being in the presence of a woman who had her legs and arms uncovered, but he was not an insensitive man. He'd have to be blind not to see the lacerations that streaked her skin, and she was clearly distraught. Yet he could observe with his own eyes that there were no tents, no pile of dead bodies, no vehicles. In fact, there was nothing to indicate the story was true.

The officer took a drag from his cigarette and blew the smoke out his nostrils. "I was notified, of course, that an expedition was near the Place of the Dead. Perhaps they left without telling you."

"Great," Nina snapped. "Of all the cops in Morocco, I get a Berber Inspector Clousseau."

Nina's frayed nerves had made her irritable. Austin couldn't blame her for being shorttempered with the policeman's obtuseness after all she'd been through but decided it was time to intervene. "Nina, you said there was a big campfire. Could you show me about where it was?"

With the police officer trailing leisurely after them, Nina led the way to the approximate center of the clearing and drew an X in the dirt with the tip of her shoe.

About here, I'd say"

"Do you have a shovel?" Austin asked the policeman.

"Yes, of course. It is a necessary tool for driving in the desert."

Mustapha sauntered over to his Jeep, and from a tool chest he produced a folding shorthandled army-issue spade. Austin took the spade and knelt at Nina's feet, where he began to dig a series of parallel trenches about six inches deep. The first two produced nothing of interest, but the third hit pay dirt, literally.

Austin scooped a handful of blackened earth and smelled it. Ashes from a fire." He placed his palm on the ground. "Still warm," he said.

Nina was only halflistening. She was staring behind Austin at a patch of ground that seemed to be moving,

"There," she whispered.

The dark blot was formed by thousands of tiny swarming creatures. With the edge of the shovel blade Austin cleared a space in the shiny duster of ants and started to dig. Half a foot below the surface he turned up a spadeful of dark redstained earth. He expanded the hole. More reddish stain. The ground was soaked with it. Nina got down on her knees beside him. The cloying smell of dried blood filled her nostrils.

"This is where they were shot," she said, her voice tight with restrained emotion.

Captain Mustapha had been staring dreamily off into space, wondering when he'd be able to get home to his wife and children and a good meal. Sensing the change in atmosphere, he threw his cigarette aside and came over to kneel beside Nina. His nut brown face turned a shade lighter as he realized the significance of the discolored soil.

Allah be praised," he murmured. Seconds later he was at his Jeep talking in rapid Arabic into the radio.

Nina was still on her knees, her body rigid, gazing at the earth as if the horrible events of the night before were gushing out of the shallow hole. Austin figured that she would fall apart if he didn't tear her away. He took her arm and helped her to her feet. "I'd be interested in a look around the lagoon, if you don't mind."

She blinked like a sleeper suddenly awakened. "That's a good idea. Maybe there's something there

. . ." She led the way through the dunes. The Zodiac inflatable that had transported them from the NUMA ship was pulled up onto the stone stairway

Nina scanned the lagoon that was so peaceful now. "I can't believe they even took my marker buoys," she said with bitter humor. With Austin a step behind, she walked along the rocky shoreline describing the unseen tunnel and cothon. Austin pointed out a dozen or so fish floating on the otherwise featureless surface.

"Probably oxygen deprivation," Nina said. "The lagoon isn't terribly healthy for living things." She smiled at the unintentional irony. "There was something else I didn't mention before." She briefly described the stone head she found. Austin was unable to hide his disbelief.

"Olmec! Here?" He chewed his lower lip, trying without success to think of a polite way to express his doubt. "Not a chance."

"I wouldn't believe it either if I hadn't seen it. I bet you'll change your mind after a short swim. I'll show you." She kicked off her borrowed sneakers. Austin wouldn't mind a chance to cool off, and the swim would take Nina's mind off the grim find back at the clearing. Their shorts and T-shirts would dry quickly in the sun.

Nina dove in, and Austin followed. They swam a short distance until Nina stopped to take a bead on a couple of landmarks. She breaststroked with her head underwater. After a minute or so, she jackknifed in a surface dive and went straight down. Near the bottom she swam in a circle, then shot to the surface, with Austin right behind hex ,

"It's gone," she shouted breathlessly. "The figure is gone!"


Tags: Clive Cussler NUMA Files Thriller