Blue Gold

Chapter 11

"Senor? Senor?"

Austin's eyes blinked open to see a white stubble of whiskers covering leathery cheeks and a gap-toothed mouth stretched wide in a jack-o'-lantern grin. It was the face of the Mexican fisherman he and Joe had met on the cliffs the day before. Austin lay on his back in an open wooden boat, his head cushioned by a coil of rope. He was still in his wet suit, but his scuba gear was gone. He pushed himself upright with his hands, a task of no small difficulty because his joints were sore and he was sprawled on a slimy pile of fish.

A fisherman who strongly resembled the first man, right down to the cleft in his dental work, sat at the other end of the boat keeping watch over Zavala. Joe's hair, normally so neatly combed, sprouted in a hundred different directions, and his shorts and T-shirt were dripping wet. He looked dazed but awake.

"You okay?" Austin called out.

A fish flopped onto Zavala's lap. He carefully picked up the creature by the tail and tossed it with the others. "No broken bones. Now I know what it's like to be shot out of a cannon. How about you?"

"A few aches and pains." Austin rubbed the throbbing muscles of his shoulder, then went to work on his legs. "I feel like I've gone through a car wash and a telephone keeps ringing in my ear."

"Your voice sounds like it's still coming over an underwater communicator. Do you know what happened? I was coming to get you in the Brogan when all hell broke loose."

"There was an underwater explosion." Austin glanced at the mirror-flat sea. The boat lay off the cove entrance. The Sea Robin was nowhere in sight. Austin couldn't figure it. Contos and his crew would have heard the blast. Why hadn't they come out to investigate?

He turned his attention back to their own predicament. "Would you ask our friends how we got here?"

Zavala questioned the fishermen in Spanish. One of them did most of the talking, speaking in rapid fire as his brother nodded in agreement. Zavala thanked him and translated the ex change.

"This man's name is Juan," Zavala said. "He remembers us from yesterday up on the cliffs. The other guy is his brother Pedro. They were fishing when they heard a big muffled roar and the water bubbled and foamed in the inlet."

"Si, si, la bufadora," Juan said. He threw his hands expansively into the air like an orchestra conductor calling for a crescendo.

"What's with the theatrics?" Austin asked

"He says the noise was like the blowhole outside Ensenada where the sea comes into a cleft in the rocks and makes a big boom. Only it was many times louder. The cliff split away be hind the tortilla factory. There were big swells, and the boat al most capsized. Then we popped out of the water. They pulled us in like a couple of overgrown sardines, and here we are."

Austin scanned the sea again. "Did they mention seeing the Sea Robin?"

"They saw a ship earlier. From their description it must have been the Robin. It went around to the other side of the headland, and they haven't seen it since."

Austin was starting to worry about Contos and his crew. "Please thank our benefactors for their kindness and ask if they would mind taking us around the point."

Zavala relayed Austin's request, and the fishermen started the old Mercury outboard in a cloud of blue smoke. Coughing like an asthmatic corn popper, the motor effortlessly moved the boat through the silken sea. With Juan manning the tiller, they rounded the headland and immediately saw why the Sea Robin hadn't left its mooring. The NUMA ship wasn't going anywhere for a while.

The deck was covered with a small mountain of dirt and boulders, and the vessel listed heavily to the starboard. The A-frame at the stern and the free-standing cranes on the aft deck had been twisted as easily as pretzels by the debris. Above the boat, the steep cliff face was layered with yellow strata exposed by the rockslide. Crew members were attacking the rubble with shovels and crowbars, tossing what debris they could manage over the side. A forklift was moving the bigger rocks.

Juan maneuvered the fishing boat alongside the NUMA vessel. Contos came to the rail and leaned over. His hands and face were caked with dirt, and he looked as if he had crawled out of a mine.

Austin cupped his hands and called out, "Anyone hurt?"

"A few cuts and bruises," Contos yelled back. "Luckily the aft deck was clear. We had heard a loud boom from the cove and were about to check it out. Then the whole side of the cliff came down before we could weigh anchor. Where the hell have you two been?"

"I like your new makeup," Austin said.

Joe chimed in, "Is it Estee Lauder?"

Contos's attempt to rub the dirt off his nose only made it worse. "It's evident from your wise-ass comment that you're hale and hearty. When you're through being obnoxious, would you mind telling me what happened?"

"That boom you heard was an underwater explosion," Joe said.

Contos shook his head in disbelief. "I don't know of any volcanic activity along here. What caused it?"

"Best we can say for sure is that it was centered in the under water installation," Austin said.

He gave Austin a blank look.

"We'll explain later." Austin surveyed the yellowed "The explosion shook the slide loose."

Contos furrowed his brow. "Hey," he said as a thought struck him. "What did you do with the Brogan?"

Austin and Zavala looked at each other like guilty children who had broken the cookie jar. Austin was beginning to wonder if he were a Jonah, the name mariners give a seaman who at tracts calamity. This was the second craft he had lost in as many days.

"We lost her," Austin said. "Sorry. It couldn't be helped. Juan and Pedro here hauled us out of the water."

"Pleased to meet you," Contos said to the smiling fishermen. "Not much we can do about it now. NUMA will simply have to build me a new one."

Austin swept his eyes over the tilted hull of the Sea Robin. "Your vessel has quite a list. Are you in any danger of sinking?"

"I think we'll be okay. No leaks detected so far. We'll see what happens once we get under way. Most of the damage is to the deck and superstructure. The cranes are useless, as you can see. The forklift can move the big stuff. We haven't called for help because we don't want to have to explain what we're doing in Mexican waters."

"Do we have time to check out the cove?"

Contos looked over his shoulder at the rubble still to be re moved. "Be my guest. We'll get under way as soon as we're able."

Zavala asked the fishermen to take them back to the inlet. The request started an animated argument between the brothers. Pedro had had enough of the cursed place with its strange explosions and stranger mermen popping out of the sea. He clearly wanted to go home, but his brother prevailed.

The boat made its way around the headland. As they entered the cove they could see smoke coming from the tortilla factory. Like the cliff above the Sea Robin, the sheer face behind the factory was layered yellow where the outer rock cover had been dislodged by the explosion. The rock slide had taken with it all traces of the monorail elevator.

The fishing boat cut a path through the debris and dead fish that covered the surface of the inlet. Using a bucket, Austin and Zavala scooped pieces of melted plastic and charred paper from the water. Remembering how a tiny piece of metal had helped track down the source of the TWA jet explosion over Locker bee, Scotland, Austin figured even the tiniest fragment might be of use.

The work was painstaking, but their persistence paid off. Zavala snagged a metal cylinder bobbing in the water. It was about two feet long and six inches in diameter. Austin found a serial number and the name of its manufacturer etched into the metal.

Joe called his attention to movement at the top of the cliffs. Human specks could be seen lining the bluff. Austin didn't feel like answering questions for the local authorities. The fishermen were happy to head back to the ship. The deck was practically clear as they pulled up next to the Sea Robin. The ship was close to its normal pitch. Austin borrowed some money from Contos and tried to pay the fishermen for their services, but the brothers refused the cash. Juan explained through Zavala that showing them the hole in the fence was a service for which he would accept payment, but saving men from the sea was a moral duty. Austin thought about it, then persuaded the fishermen to accept a gift of friendship. After discussing it with Contos, they presented the happy fishermen with an outboard motor soon to be retired from service but in excellent shape.

The engines were started, and the ship slowly headed for open water. No leaks were detected. Contos set a course north. They left just in time. As they cruised along, a dark green helicopter appeared out of nowhere, circled the inlet several times, then dashed off to the north as quickly as it had come. They mingled with the boat traffic around Ensenada, where they spotted a Mexican coast guard boat steaming at full speed in the opposite direction. With the Sea Robin safely on its way, the NUMA

men hit the showers and got into dry clothes. They rejoined Contos on the bridge. He had a fresh pot of coffee waiting.

"Okay, gentlemen," he said, pouring two hot steaming mugs. "As skipper of this vessel, which you commandeered for what turned out to be a commando mission, I'd appreciate it if you would fill me in."

Austin took a sip of the high-octane brew and decided he had never tasted anything more delicious.

"The explosion was a surprise to us," he said. "Our basic mission was pretty simple. We wanted to check out the source of the heat that may have killed those whales. We think we found it." He described the underwater structure as they first saw it, filling Contos in on the approach, the fake hazard buoys, the fishing net, and the high water temperature. Then he turned the narrative over to Joe.

Putting himself back underwater in the moments before the explosion, Zavala curled his hands as if he were clutching an in visible steering wheel.

"Everything's fine. We figure the high temperature readings are coming from the installation. You set off for a closer look, and I put the sub on the bottom to wait. The temps start to go off the charts, and I suggest you get back to the Brogan."

Austin reached into his memory. "I had just looked through a skylight on the top of the structure when I got your call. There were people and machinery inside. I headed back to the sub. Then boom!"

"You said the structure was full of piping," Zavala said. "Some of it would have been high-pressure conduits, hence the potential for explosion."

"I don't know. There could have been a flaw in the piping, but this was a sophisticated operation. They would have had layers of safety valves and shutoffs to prevent a pressure buildup. From what I could see there was nothing out of the ordinary. Nobody was rushing around in a panic. No indication of any thing wrong."

"What about the water temperature buildup?"

"Good question, although the satellite photos indicate this isn't the first time there has been a high-temperature water discharge into the cove, so it probably didn't have a direct link to the explosion." Austin had brought a plastic bag with him. He opened it and produced the metal cylinder. "We found this floating in the cove. Any idea what it is?"

Contos examined the object and shook his head. "I'll try to track down the manufacturer when we get back to Washington."

"Guess your instincts were right, Kurt. Remember, back at Hussong's, when you said you had the feeling a big bad-assed something was watching us."

Austin's coral eyes hardened. "If you'll remember, I made an other astute observation."

"What was that?"

"I said that whatever it is lurking in the shadows, the damned thing is as hungry as hell."

"You two are spooky," Contos said. "It sounds as if you're talking about Godzilla."

Austin said nothing. He stared out at the bow cleaving the waves as if the answers to the questions whirling around in his head could be found beneath the blue-green of the sea.