"Good. Do you know who these people are who killed him?"
"No, but I intend to find out."
Kemal raised his eyebrows. "You are going back to that place?”
"If I can find a boat to take me there."
"But you have the big NUMA ship."
"It wouldn't be a good idea to use a government vessel." Austin glanced around at the Turgut. "I need something that won't attract attention."
The light of understanding dawned in the dark eyes. "Something like a fishing boat maybe?"
Austin smiled. "Yes, something very much like a fishing boat."
The captain studied Austin's face, then got up and went into the wheelhouse. He reappeared with a large bottle and two chipped coffee mugs. He uncorked the bottle, poured liberal quantities into the mugs and handed one to Austin.
"To Mehmet," he said, raising his drink high in toast. They clinked the mugs and Kemal took a generous swallow, gulping the strong drink down as if it were water. Austin knew from the licorice smell that the mug held the potent Turkish firewater known as raki. Although he did not ordinarily drink alcohol before the sun appeared over the yardarm, he didn't want to be impolite. He took a tentative sip and let the fiery liquor trickle down his throat, thinking that this is what it must be like to swallow broken glass.
Kemal took another healthy swig, and to Austin's relief set his mug aside.
He affixed Austin with a leveled gaze. "Why would you want to go back there? You could be shot, too."
"That's a possibility, but it wouldn't have to happen. Last time we had no warning or weapons. This time we will."
Kemal pondered the answer. Austin was glad to see that the captain was not someone who made rash decisions. His coolness could come in handy. The Turk stared into his cup. "I feel responsible for Mehmet. I let him go with the TV people so he could make some extra money."
"No one could have predicted he would be shot."
"Of course, you are right. I fished there many times with no trouble."
"Would you ever go back?"
"Not for pay, no."
Austin was disappointed but not surprised. "I understand, Captain. It could be very dangerous, no matter how
well- prepared we are."
"Fah!" Kemal spat off to his side. "I am not afraid. I said I would not go there for pay. I owe you a favor for killing that pig." He dismissed Austin's protest with a wave of his hand. "The Turgut is at your disposal," he said as grandly as if he were turning over the wheel of the QE2.
"You're not obligated to me in any way." The captain thrust his chin forward. Speaking in measured tones to make sure there was no mistaking his intentions, he said, "The men who killed my cousin are the ones who must be made to pay. I am not a stranger to these affairs. As a young man, I was a smuggler. I was never caught." He thumped the deck with his heel and flashed his fourteen-karat grin. "Twin diesels," he said proudly. "Thirty knots cruising speed. When do you wish to go?"
"I'm expecting three other people from the United States today. I have to round up some equipment as well. How about tomorrow morning?"
"The boat will be fueled up and ready at dawn."
"What about crew?" Austin said. "I don't want to place anyone in danger after what happened to Mehmet."
"Thank you. I will keep two crewmen, my most trusted. I will warn them about the danger, so they can make a choice. I know what they will say. They are cousins to Mehmet, too."
They shook hands on the deal. Austin said he would be there with the sun. He left before Kemal wanted to seal the agreement with another cup of raki. His head was spinning on the walk back to the Argo, though by the time he returned to the NUMA ship, the fresh air off the Bosporus had cleared away most of the alcoholic vapors. He went up to the bridge to see Captain Atwood, who was poring over some charts.
"How's the television star?" he asked.
"You've obviously heard about what a natural I am before the cameras," Atwood replied. "Okay, I admit it," he said, with a sheepish grin. "I had a good time filming with those crazy characters. My guess is that they'll edit out my pretty mug in favor of the lovely Miss Dorn."
"Would you blame them?"