Fire Ice

Paul exchanged a puzzled glance with his wife. "It doesn't look empty to me. Look at all that activity. I can see five ships of considerable size pulled up to the dock."

"Those are Ataman's small ships. I wanted to show you their ocean drilling rigs. They look like they could drill through to the other side of the world. Each one is like a city in itself."

"Maybe they're all at sea working."

"Maybe," he said, with skepticism in his voice. "But I don't think so. Ataman has so many ships, a few are always being outfitted. Even with all those wharves, they don't have space to take care of their whole fleet at the same time." He sca

Yuri kept the boat on the same heading until they were past the main wharves, then he steered in toward a smaller pier. A luxurious yacht four hundred feet long was tied up at the dock. The gleaming white hull was set off by black trim. The superstructure was unusually sleek and stream- lined. The hull was shaped in a deep V to cut through the waves. The wide rear of the boat was concave.

"Wow!" Yuri said. "I've heard of this baby, but it's the first time I've seen it."

"Quite a luxury yacht," Paul said with appreciation. "It belongs to Razov, the head guy at Ataman. They say he lives on the boat and runs his business from it." Yuri gave the tiller a wiggle. Gamay pressed the shutter release and banged off several shots. "Can we go around to the other side?" Gamay said.

Yuri replied with a pull on the tiller that brought them around behind the boat. Gamay lifted the camera up to her eye again and started to press the control button that would give her a wide-angle shot, when she detected movement on the deck. A figure had come into view. She extended the zoom to its full 200-mm range. "Dear God!" she said with a gasp.

"What is it?" Paul said.

She handed the camera over. "Take a look."

Paul peered through the viewfinder and sca

"Deck's deserted now. What did you see?" Gamay didn't spook easily, but she couldn't suppress a shudder. "A tall man with long black hair and a beard. He was staring straight at me. It was one of the most frightening faces I've ever seen."

A Jeeplike vehicle was racing toward the wharf along an access road, and Trout's instincts were aroused. He looked through the camera lens as the vehicle drove onto the boat dock. Speaking calmly, he said, "We've got company. Time to go."

The vehicle screeched to a stop. Six uniformed men carrying weapons jumped out, dashed along the wharf, raced toward the gangplank and climbed onto the ship. Yuri had hesitated, but when he saw the armed men, he twisted the throttle as far as it would go, and headed out to the bay.

The bow lifted and the boat got on plane, making a respectable speed despite its heavy construction. Flashes of small-arms fire could be seen on the yacht's fantail. The bullets stitched a line of small fountains in the water. Paul yelled at the others to get down. A round hit the boat and took a chip out of the transom, but seconds later they were out of range. The danger wasn't over, though. Another vehicle had followed the first, and the men who piled out headed for the dock, where some powerboats were tied up.

Yuri pointed the boat out into the busy cha

Yuri's face was flushed with excitement. "Man, that was fun. I've heard a lot of businesses have their own armies to protect them from the Russian Mafia, but this is the first time I've ever seen them."

Paul felt guilty about putting the son of his old colleague in harm's way. He and Gamay owed Yuri an explanation, but too much knowledge could be just as dangerous. Communicating with her eyes, Gamay silently sent a message saying that she knew what to do.

"Yuri, we've got a favor to ask," she said. "We'd like you Ito say nothing about what happened back there to anyone."

"I guess your visit to my father wasn't entirely social," Yuri said.

Gamay nodded. "We've been asked by NUMA to check out Ataman Industries. They're suspected of being involved in some shady business. We had pla

"It was like something out of James Bond!" Yuri had a broad smile on his face.

"Except that this isn't fiction. It's very real."

Gamay's calming tone got through to Yuri far more effectively than any bombast Paul might have been able to summon up.

Yuri tried to look serious. "I'll be quiet, but it's going to be hard not to tell my friends." He sighed. "They wouldn't believe me anyhow."

Paul said, "We'll fill you in as soon as we know what this is all about. We can assure you that you'll be one of the first to know. Deal?" He stretched his hand forward.

"It's a deal," Yuri said, pleased to be in on the conspiracy. They shook hands all around.

The sun had dropped toward the horizon, and shadows were gathering as they saw the lights of the camp glimmering on shore. They all breathed a sigh of relief as the boat drew nearer the beach. They would have been less assured if they knew that a birdlike speck in the sky high above them was a helicopter equipped with high-powered optics.

PROFESSOR ORLOV WAS waiting on the beach. He waded into the water and pulled the boat into shore. "Hello, my friends. I see that you've met my son, Yuri."

"He was kind enough to take us on a sightseeing tour," Gamay said. She slipped over the side and used her body to hide the hole gouged out by the bullet. "We had a nice talk about now and the future."

"The now is that you go back to your cottage and get ready for di

The professor ushered the Trouts back to the main clearing and instructed them to return in a half hour with their appetites. Then he hustled off with his son. As he walked away, Yuri looked back over his shoulder and winked. The silent message was clear. Their secret was safe with him.

Paul and Gamay returned to their cottage and showered away the salt and sweat from their nautical adventure. Gamay changed into designer jeans that emphasized her long legs, a blazer and lilac camisole. Paul had not left his fastidious sartorial habits behind. He wore loose tan slacks with a Gatsby-style pale green shirt and a violet bow tie.

Some of the other inhabitants of the camp were assembled at or around the picnic table. The Trouts were greeted by the middle-aged couple they had met earlier, a tall intense-looking physicist who resembled the writer Alexander Solzhenitsyn and a young married couple, both engineering students at the university in Rostov. The table was set with an embroidered tablecloth and colorful china. Japanese lanterns lent a festive air to the gathering.

Orlov broke into a beaming smile when he saw the Trouts' approach. "Ah, my American guests. You look lovely, Gamay, and you are handsome as usual, Paul. A new bow tie? You must have an endless supply of cravats."