Chapman grinned from ear to ear. "My compliments, Dirk. You've put together a world-class waste disposal site."
"Another bit of interesting news," said Sandecker. "Our government and that of Mongolia have shut down Massarde's hazardous waste projects in the Mojave and Gobi Deserts after surprise inspections by a team of international waste investigators found them to be substandard and unsafe."
"The Australian outback installation was also closed," Chapman added.
Pitt sat back and sighed. "I'm happy to hear Massarde is out of the waste disposal business."
"Speaking of the Scorpion," said Giordino, "how's his condition?"
"He was buried in Tripoli yesterday," replied Sandecker. "CIA agents reported that just before he died, he went insane and tried to make a meal of a doctor."
"The perfect ending," Giordino muttered sardonically.
"By the way," said Sandecker. "The President sends his warmest regards and thanks. Says he's going to issue a special citation of merit for your achievement."
Pitt and Giordino turned to each other and shrugged indifferently.
Sandecker chose to ignore the display of distaste. "You might be interested in knowing that for the first time in two decades, our State Department is working closely with the new Malian parliament. Much of the improved relations were due to you turning all profits from the project over to the government to aid their social programs."
"It seemed the proper thing to do since we couldn't profit by it," said Pitt benevolently.
"Any chance of a coup by the army?" inquired Gunn.
"Without Kazim, the inner core of his officers fell apart. To a man they crawled on their knees and swore undying allegiance to the leaders of the new government."
"It's been almost a month since any of us have seen your ugly faces in person," Sandecker smiled. "Your job is finished in the Sahara. When can I expect you back in Washington?"
"Even the turmoil and mess of the nation's capital would look good after this place," muttered Giordino.
"A week's vacation would be nice," Pitt answered seriously. "I have to ship something home and take care of some personal business. And then there's a little historical project I'd like to investigate here in the desert."
"The Texas?"
"How did you know?"
"St. Julien Perlmutter whispered in my ear."
"I'd be grateful for a favor, Admiral."
Sandecker made an act of shrugging condescendingly. "I guess I owe you a little free time."
"Please arrange for Julien to fly to Mali as quickly as possible."
"With Julien weighing in at 180 kilograms," Sandecker looked at Pitt roguishly, "you'll never get him on a camel."
"Much less induce him to trek over blistering sand under a blazing sun," Gunn joined in.
"If I'm right," said Pitt, staring through the monitor at them in amusement, "all I'll need to get Julien to walk twenty paces across desert terrain is a bottle of chilled Chardonnay."
"Before I forget," Sandecker spoke up, "the Aussies were overjoyed at your discovery of Kitty Mannock and her aircraft. You and Giordino are national heroes according to the Sydney papers."
"Do they have plans for a recovery?"
"A wealthy rancher from her home town has agreed to fund the operation. He plans to restore the plane and hang it in a museum in Melbourne. A recovery team should be at the location you provided by tomorrow."
"And Kitty?"
"A national holiday when her body is returned. I was told by the Australian ambassador that contributions are pouring in from all over the country for a memorial over her proposed grave site."
"Our country should contribute too, especially the South."
Curious, Sandecker asked, "What is our connection with her?"
"She's going to lead us to the Texas, " answered Pitt matter-of-factly.
Sandecker exchanged questioning looks with the NUMA men around the table. Then he refaced Pitt's image in the monitor and said, "We'd all be interested in knowing how a woman who's been dead for sixty-five years can pull off that little trick."
"I found Kitty's logbook in the wreckage," Pitt replied slowly. "She describes her discovery of a ship before she died, an iron ship buried in the desert."
"Good lord!" Perlmutter uttered as he peered out the helicopter's windshield at the sunrise illuminating the dead land below. "You walked through that?"
"Actually, we sailed across this section of the desert in our improvised land yacht," Pitt answered. "We're flying our trek in reverse."
Perlmutter had flown into Algiers on a military jet, and then caught a commercial airliner to the small desert city of Adrar in southern Algeria. There, Pitt and Giordino had met him shortly after midnight and escorted him aboard a helicopter they'd borrowed from the project's French construction crew.
After refueling, they headed south, spotting the land yacht just after dawn, lying forlornly on its side where they had left it after their rescue by the Arab truck driver. They landed and dismantled the old wing, cables, and wheels that had saved their lives, lashing the pieces to the landing skids of the helicopter. Then they lifted off with Pitt at the controls and set a course for the ravine that held Kitty Mannock's lost aircraft:
During the flight, Perlmutter read over a copy Pitt had made of Kitty's logbook. "What a courageous lady," he said in admiration. "With only a few swallows of water, a broken ankle, and a badly sprained knee, she hobbled nearly 16 kilometers under the most wretched conditions."
"And that was only one way," Pitt reminded him. "After stumbling on the ship in the desert, she limped back to her aircraft."
"Yes, here it is," said Perlmutter, reading aloud.
Wednesday, October 14. Extreme heat. Becoming very miserable. Followed ravine southward until it finally opened out onto a wide, dry riverbed, I estimate about 10 miles from plane. Have trouble sleeping in the bitter cold nights. This afternoon I found a strange-looking ship half buried, in the desert. Thought I was hallucinating, but after touching the sloping sides of iron, I realized it was real. Entered around an old cannon protruding through an opening and spent the night. Shelter at last.
Thursday, October 15. Searched interior of ship. Too dark to see very much. Found several remains of the former crew. Very well preserved. Must have been dead a long time judging from the look of their uniforms. A plane flew over, but did not see the ship. I could not climb outside in time to signal. It was traveling in the direction of my crash. I will never be found here and have decided to return to my plane in the chance it has been discovered. I know now it was a mistake to try and walk out. If searchers found my plane they could never follow my trail. The wind has blown sand over it like snow in a blizzard. The desert has its own game, and I cannot beat it.
Perlmutter paused and looked up. "That explains why you found the logbook with her entries at the crash site. She carne back in the vain hope the search planes had found hers."
"What were her last words?" asked Giordino.
Perlmutter turned a page and continued reading.
Sunday, October 18. Returned to plane but have seen to sign of rescue party. Am pretty well done in. If I am round after I'm gone, please forgive the grief I've caused. A kiss for my mum and dad. Tell them I tried to die bravely. I cannot write more, my brain no longer controls my hand.
When Perlmutter finished, each man felt a deep sense of sadness and melancholy. They were all moved by Kitty's epic fight to survive. Tough guys to the end, they all fought to suppress their glistening eyes.
"She could have taught a lot of men the meaning of courage," Pitt said heavily.