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"Welcome home, sailor."
She stepped forward and threw her arms around his neck. He winced and groaned under his breath. She jumped back.
"Oh, I'm sorry."
Pin clutched her. "Don't be." Then he mashed his lips against hers. His beard scraped against her skin and he smelled of gin-and delightfully masculine.
"There's something to be said for men who only come home once a week,"
she said finally.
"And for women who wait," he said, stepping back. He glanced around.
"What have you and Hiram found out since I left?"
"I'll let Hiram tell you," she answered airily, taking him by the hand and leading him across the computer installation.
Yaeger charged out of his office. Without a word of greeting or sympathy for Pitts wounds, he came straight to the heart of the breakthrough.
"We've found it!" he announced grandly.
"The river?" Pitt asked anxiously.
"Not only the river, but I think I can put you within two square miles of the artifacts' cavern."
+"Where?"
"Texas. A little border town called Roma."
Yaeger had the smug, complacent look of a Tyrannosaurus rex that had just dined on a brontosaurus. "Nwned for seven hills, just like the capital of Italy. Pretty low, insignificant hills, I admit. But there are also reports of Roman artifacts supposedly having been dug up in the area. Scoffed at by accredited archaeologists, of course, but what do they know?"
"Then the river is?"
"The Rio Bravo, as it's called in Spanish." Yaeger nodded. "Better known on this side as the Rio Grande."
"The Rio Grande." Pitt repeated the words slowly, savoring each syllable to the full, finding it difficult to accept the truth after dozens of missed hunches, wild guesses and dead-end speculations.
"It's really a great shame," Yaeger suddenly said morosely.
Pitt glanced at him in faint surprise. "Why do you say that?"
Yaeger shook his head heavily. "Because there'll be no living with the Texans as soon as they learn what they've been sitting on for the last sixteen centuries."
At noon the next day, after landing at the Corpus Christi Naval Air Station, Pitt and Lily, along with Admiral Sandecker, were driven by a Seaman First Class to NUMA!s ocean research center on the bay. Sandecker directed the driver to stop beside a helicopter squatting on a concrete pad beside a long dock. There were no clouds, the sun was alone in the sky. The temperature was mild but the humidity high, and they quickly began to sweat after exiting the car.
NUMAs chief geologist, Herb Garza, gave a friendly wave and approached.
He was short, plump, brown-skinned, with a few pockmarks on his cheeks and gleaming black hair. Garza wore a California Angels baseball cap and a fluorescent orange shirt that was so blasting Pitt could still see it after he momentarily closed his eyes.
"Garza," said Sandecker curtly. "Good to see you again."
"I've looked forward to your arrival," Garza said warmly. "We can take off as soon as you board." He turned and introduced the pilot, Joe Mifflin, who wore "Smiling Jack" sunglasses and struck Pitt as being about as animated as a door knob.
Pitt and Garza had worked together on a project along the western desert stretch of coast in South Africa. "How long has it been, Herb?" said Pitt. "Three, four years?"
"Who counts?" Garza said with a broad smile as they shook hands. "Good to be on the same team with you again."
"May I introduce Dr. Lily Sharp."
