Polar Shift

31

Austin looked down into the yawning caldera as the paraglider soared like a condor through the notch in the rim. The road they had been following up the side of the volcano went through the low spot and descended a gradual slope to the midpoint of the caldera, where it ended in a low bluff. On the opposite side of the crater, the rim dropped almost vertically to a boulder field at the bottom. A patch of green roughly shaped in a circle was sandwiched between the bottom of the slope and the field of black boulders.

Austin put the glider into a lazy spiral into the crater and looked for a good landing site.

"What's that down there?" Zavala pointed to the base of the slope where the road ended. "Looks like a herd of cows."

Austin squinted through the lens of his goggles. "Too furry to be cows. Maybe they're yaks."

"I could use a few yaks after all we've been through."

Austin cringed at the pun, but his mental pain was short-lived. Zavala called his attention to another section of the green area.

"I'll be damned," Austin said. "People!"

The group stood near the edge of the boulder field. As the paraglider drifted lower, Austin saw someone club another person to the ground. A third figure rushed to the aid of the fallen figure but was jerked away. The paraglider was low enough for Austin to see a flash of blond hair.

"I think we just found Karla Janos," Austin said.

Grisha's thin lips were peeled back in a grin that revealed his bad teeth. He spoke in Russian, and his murderous cohorts appeared from behind the rocks where they had been hiding.

Schroeder quickly sized up the situation. While he and Karla pursued a zigzag path through the city, Grisha and his men could have come straight through the central boulevard and stumbled on the way out.

Grisha motioned for his prisoners to go back the way they had come. As the Russians and their captives broke out of the rocks into the open, Grisha saw the woolly mammoths.

"What are those?" he said. "Sheep?"

"No," Schroeder said. "They're butterflies."

He was unprepared for the fury of Grisha's response. The Russian didn't like being humiliated in front of his men. He let out a feral snarl, raised his gun like a club and slashed Schroeder across the face with the barrel. As Schroeder crumpled to the ground, the last thing he heard was Karla's scream.

Zavala had been watching the drama unfold below. "Looks like she's in bad company. How do you want to handle this? Hawk on a mouse or OK Corral?"

Zavala was asking Austin whether they should make a stealth approach or go in with guns blazing.

"How about Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid?"

"That's a new one, but anything works for me."

"Hand me your gun and take over the controls. We'll come in from behind. The sun will be in their eyes."

"Wyatt Earp could have used one of these rigs against the Clanton boys."

"As I recall, he did pretty well without it."

Zavala slipped his Heckler amp; Koch from its holster. Handling the weapon with great care, he passed it to Austin, and placed his hands on the controls. They were descending rapidly. Austin positioned himself like a gunfighter, with a weapon in each hand.

Grisha had one arm around Karla's neck, his fingers entwined in her hair. The palm of his other hand was pressed against her face so that she could hardly breathe. With a simple twist, he could have broken her neck. He was angry enough to kill her, but his greed was stronger than his more violent tendencies. She was worth more alive than dead.

But that didn't mean he and his men couldn't have some fun with the beautiful young woman. He removed his hand from her face and pulled down the zipper of her jacket. Frustrated by the layers of warm-weather clothing underneath, he cursed and knocked her to the ground. One of his men shouted.

Grisha glimpsed a shadow moving on the ground and he looked up.

His mouth dropped in amazement.

A two-headed man was swooping down on him from out of the sky.

When the distance narrowed to a couple of hundred feet, Austin started blazing away with both handguns. He aimed off to the side to avoid hitting Karla. Her captors ran for their lives.

With Karla out of the way, Austin was free to aim at his fleeing targets, but it was difficult to get a clear shot while he was moving. Zavala yelled at Austin to get ready to land. He tucked one gun into its holster, the other in his belt.

They attempted to land on their feet, but they had come in too fast. They hit the ground and lurched forward onto their hands and knees. Luckily, the vegetation cushioned the impact. They quickly unstrapped the power unit. While Zavala rolled up the lines to the sail, Austin went over to the blond woman who was kneeling beside an older man.

"Miss Janos?" Austin said.

She glanced up at Austin with her striking gray eyes. "Who are you?"

"Kurt Austin. My friend Joe and I have been looking for you. Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine," she said. "My uncle needs help."

Austin dug a first-aid kit out of his pack. The man was still conscious. He lay on his back with his eyes open. He could have been anywhere from sixty-five to seventy-five years old, but it was hard to tell because his long-jawed face was covered with blood that flowed from lacerations on the cheek and brow.

Austin knelt by his side, cleaned the wound and applied antiseptic on the raw flesh. His ministrations must have been painful, but the man didn't flinch. His arctic blue eyes watched every move Austin made.

Austin had barely started his first aid when the man said, "That's enough. Help me up." With Austin's aid, Schroeder struggled to stand. He was a tall man, several inches over Austin's six foot one.

Karla put her arm around her uncle's waist. "Are you all right?"

"I'm a tough old lizard," he said. "It's you I'm worried about."

"I'm okay, thanks to these two men."

Austin noticed the evident bond between the older man and the young woman. He introduced himself and Zavala.

"My name is Schroeder," the man said. "Thank you for your help. How did you find us?"

"We talked to a woman named Maria Arbatov."

"Maria. How is she?" Karla said.

"She's going to be fine, but her husband and two other men were murdered. I assume they were your fellow scientists. There was another man we couldn't identify."

Karla glanced at Schroeder, who said, "He attacked Karla. I had to stop him." He squinted toward the boulder field. "This is a dangerous place. They'll be back. They have automatic weapons, and we're totally exposed out here."

"This is your neighborhood," Austin said. "Where can we find cover?

Schroeder pointed to the base of the slope that came down from the rim of the caldera.

"Down there in the city."

Austin wondered if the man was delirious from his injuries.

"Did you say 'city'?" He saw only the low bluffs at the base of the slope.

"That's right," Karla said. "Oh no, the dwarves are gone. The gunfire must have scared them."

It was Zavala's turn to wonder if he was hearing things. "Dwarves?"

"Yes," Karla said. "Dwarf woolly mammoths."

Austin and Zavala exchanged glances.

"Enough talk. We've got to get moving," Schroeder said.

Clutching Karla by the arm, he limped toward the edge of the bowl. Austin and Zavala took up the rear. Schroeder's insistence that they start moving proved to be sound advice. The group had almost reached the edge of the green area when Grisha and his men suddenly broke from their rocky cover and began firing their guns.

Fountains of dirt erupted in the grass about a dozen feet behind the fleeing group.

It would take only a second for Grisha and his men to get the range. Austin yelled at the others to keep going. He turned and threw himself belly-down on the ground and took careful aim with his Bowen at the nearest Russian.

He cracked off a couple of shots that fell short. Grisha and his men were taking no chances. When Austin fired, they stopped shooting and went belly-down as well.

Austin turned and saw that the others were nearly at the face of the bluff. He scrambled to his feet and sprinted after them. Grisha's men started shooting again. The bullets were practically hitting the ground at his heels as he ducked the others into an opening in the face of the cliff.

Karla shook her flashlight, and the batteries apparently still had a little juice left in them because the bulb glowed dimly. They picked their way through the winding path. When the flashlight finally sputtered and died, they had entered the area where some buildings still stood among the rubble and were beginning to see the glow from the underground city. They followed the beckoning light like moths toward a flame and soon came upon the subterranean metropolis.

Austin gazed at the shimmering streets and buildings.

"What is this place, the land of Oz?" he said.

Karla laughed. "It's an underground city built of some sort of light-producing mineral," Karla said. "We don't know who built it, but these are only the suburbs. It's quite extensive."

Schroeder hushed Karla and said they could talk about it later, and then he led the way through the maze of streets until they were back at the plaza where they had first come upon the mammoths.

The dwarf mammoths had returned to the plaza and were huddled around the pyramid. They seemed restive, snorting frequently as they milled around the square.

Karla saw Austin reach for his gun. She put her hand on his arm. "It's all right. They won't hurt you. They must have been spooked by the noise."

Austin had seen many strange sights on missions that took him to remote places around the world and under the oceans. But nothing like the creatures moving around the plaza. He was looking at smaller versions, from the tips of their tails to their curved tusks, of the ancient behemoths he had seen pictured in textbooks.

Zavala was equally dumbfounded. "I thought these things were extinct."

"They are extinct," Karla said. "Rather, they were. These animals are the descendants of full-size mammoths that once lived on the island."

"Karla," Schroeder said. "We should be talking about how to get away from those murderers."

"He's right," Austin said. "Is there another way out of here?"

"Yes, but it's long and treacherous," Karla said.

"I can't make it, but that's no reason for you not to try," Schroeder said. "If I can borrow a gun, I'll pin them down here while you and our new friends escape through the cave."

Austin grinned. "Nice try, Uncle Karl. Martyrdom went out of style in the Middle Ages. We're sticking together."

"I'm just starting to like this place," Joe said. "Warm. Romantic lighting. A unique, uh, fragrance in the air."

Schroeder smiled. He didn't know who these men were, but he was glad for Karla's sake that he had them by his side. "If you are going to be foolish, we'd better get ready."

At Austin's suggestion, Zavala went to stand watch where the street entered the plaza.

Austin turned to Schroeder. "Any suggestions?"

"It's useless to run. We can take positions in the square and try to get them in a cross fire."

Austin was glad Schroeder wanted to go on the offensive. The city provided a protective maze that offered dozens of places to hide, but, like Schroeder, he knew that the constant movement would eventually take its toll.

"I don't know how much firing I'll be doing," Austin said. "We brought extra ammunition, but we didn't expect the Little Bighorn."

"They only have to wait until we run out of ammunition and they can pick us off one by one. Too bad I used my hand grenade."

Austin gave Schroeder an odd look. The old man didn't look like the type who walked around with a grenade in his pocket. Austin was reminded that looks were deceiving. Schroeder was old enough for Medicare, but he talked as if he were part of a SWAT team.

Zavala trotted over from his lookout post. "Showtime. Our pals are coming down the street."

Austin took a quick look around the plaza. "I've got a crazy idea," he said. He quickly outlined his scheme.

"It might work," Schroeder said with excitement in his voice. "Yes, it might work."

"It better work," Austin said.

"Isn't there another way?" Karla said. "They're such beautiful creatures."

"I'm afraid not. If we do this right, they won't be hurt."

Karla sighed, but she knew they had little choice. At Austin's direction, Karla and the others moved quietly around the perimeter of the plaza, leaving the side nearest the street open. Then they waited.

The mammoths had picked up their heads when they saw the humans on the move, and became more nervous at the harsh voices of Grisha and his men. The ivory hunters were making no effort to keep the noise down. They may have done it deliberately to frighten their prey, or were just plain stupid. But whatever the reason, their arrival was making the mammoths even more restless.

The herd moved away from the plaza and stopped when the mammoths saw the humans standing around the edge of the square. Those in the front ranks turned and collided with the others in the herd. The snorts and squeaks grew louder.

There was a flicker of movement at the entrance to the street. Grisha stuck his head around the corner. The sight and smell of another unpleasant, two-legged creature spooked the animals closest to him. In their eagerness to escape, they bumped against the other mammoths.

Emboldened at the lack of a challenge, Grisha stepped into the open, followed by the other thugs. They stood at the edge of the square, spellbound at the sight of the animals they had glimpsed only at a distance.

The herd had reached critical mass. Austin set off the chain reaction. He fired his gun in the air. Zavala began firing too. Schroeder and Karla yelled and clapped their hands. The herd was transformed in an instant from an uneasy group of placid animals to a full-blown stampede. Trumpeting in fear, the moving mass of heavy bodies and sharp tusks flowed toward the only avenue of escape, the narrow street that would lead them to safety outside the cave.

Unfortunately for Grisha, he and his men stood between the rampaging herd of mammoths and their goal of freedom.

The Russians raised their guns to fire at the crazed animals, but the herd was almost on top of them. They turned and ran. They got only a few steps before they were knocked to the ground and trampled underfoot by tons of mammoth flesh. Grisha had sprinted past the others, his eyes frantically darting from side to side as he looked for an escape route, but he slipped and fell under the furred onslaught.

Austin and the others took no chances that the herd would turn back. They continued to make as much racket as they could.

It was all over in a few seconds.

The plaza was empty. The rumble of the stampeding herd echoed in the distance. Austin and Zavala cautiously advanced along the street. Zavala looked down at the bloodied mounds of clothing that once had been men. They found a flashlight that had been undamaged by the stampede. Austin yelled at Schroeder and Karla that it was safe to come ahead.

"They don't look human," Karla said as they made their way around the mangled bodies.

Austin remembered the dead scientists lying in the ravine. "Who's to say they ever were."

Schroeder let forth with a deep laugh.

"I learned long ago that in the right hands anything can be used as a weapon," he said. "But there was nothing in the textbook about little furry elephants."

Austin wondered what book Schroeder was referring to and what school he had gone to. He put his thoughts aside. They weren't out of trouble yet. They made their way through the ruined city and the rubble. The sunlight slanting in through the gap in the rocks gave them renewed energy. They went to retrieve the paraglider, and discovered that Grisha and his men had smashed the power unit and slashed the canopy.

Using sections of aluminum tubing and pieces of the canopy, they fashioned a rough splint for Schroeder. They climbed the low bluff at the bottom of the slope and ascended the road to the rim of the caldera. The switchbacks cut the steepness of the climb but made it much longer. They stopped frequently for Schroeder's sake, but he only allowed the rest stops to last a few minutes before urging the party to push on.

Hours later, they stood on the rim and looked down on the other side of the volcano. Mist obscured most of the island. After a last, wondering glance back into the caldera, they started down the outside of the volcano. The descent was as difficult as the climb. The road was a glorified mountain trail, the uneven surface covered with rocks and boulders that would have made walking hard even under ideal circumstances.

About two-thirds of the way down the outside of the mountain, they discovered they were not alone. Antlike figures were making their way up the trail. Austin's party kept on moving. They had been seen, so there was no use hiding, but they kept their weapons ready. Austin counted six people in the unknown group. As the newcomers neared, the man leading the procession waved his arm. A few moments later, Austin was close enough to see Petrov's grinning face.

The Russian was accompanied by members of his special ops team, including Veronika and her husband. Petrov sprinted the last few steps up the path.

He was grinning. "Good afternoon, Austin," he puffed. "You and Joe have added mountain climbing to your many accomplishments.

You never cease to amaze me." He turned to Karla. "And this must be Mademoiselle Janos. Very pleased to meet you. I don't know this gentleman," he said to Schroeder.

"I'm just an old man who should be home in his rocking chair," Schroeder said with a weary grin.

"How did you find us?" Austin said.

"We talked to the captain of the icebreaker. He said you were striking off to explore the volcano in some sort of aircraft."

"We had a paraglider."

"I remember now. The two large bags you brought with you."

Austin nodded. "You missed all the fun."

"On the contrary," Petrov said in a cheerful tone. "We have had a great deal of fun. We encountered a group of armed men coming in on a boat. They gave us a warm welcome, but our thank-you was even warmer. The survivor said they had been sent in to help some men who were already here." He looked over Austin's shoulder as if he expected to see someone following him.

"Those men are no longer with us," Schroeder said.

"Yes," Austin said. "They were trampled by a herd of woolly mammoths."

"Dwarf mammoths," Zavala corrected.

Petrov shook his head. "I studied American culture for years, but I'll never understand your strange humor."

"That's all right," Austin said. "Even we don't understand it. Do you think you can give us a hand the rest of the way down the mountain?"

"Of course," Petrov said with a grin. He reached into his backpack and produced a bottle of vodka. "But first we will have our drink together."