"Dirk Pitt, the man who saved my life. He said somebody doesn't want me in Africa. He also thought you and the others might be on a hit list too."
Yerli threw up his hands. "Incredible, the man thinks we're dealing with the Sicilian Mafia."
"Most fortunate he was nearby," said Hopper.
Yerli exhaled a blue cloud from his meerschaum and stared at the smoke thoughtfully. "More like opportune, considering the only other body on miles of shoreline had the courage to face a trio of assassins. Almost a miracle, or…" he stretched out the pause, "a preconceived presence."
Eva's eyes widened in skepticism. "If you're thinking it was a setup, Ismail, you can forget it."
"Maybe he staged the act to frighten you back to the States."
"I saw him kill three men with my own eyes. Believe you me, there was nothing staged about it."
"Have you heard from him since he dropped you off at the hotel?" queried Hopper.
"Only a message at the front desk asking me to have dinner with him this evening."
"And you still think he was just a passing good Samaritan," Yerli persisted.
Eva ignored him and looked at Hopper. "Pitt told me he was in Egypt for an archaeological survey of the Nile River for the National Underwater and Marine Agency. I have little reason to doubt him."
Hopper turned to Yerli. "That should be easy enough to check out."
Yerli nodded. "I'll call a friend who's a marine biologist with NUMA."
"The question is still why?" muttered Hopper almost absently.
Yerli shrugged. "If Eva's attempted murder was a conspiracy, it may well have been part of a plot to instill fear and force us to cancel our mission."
"Yes, but we have five separate research teams of six members each heading for the southern desert. They'll be spread across five nations from Sudan to Mauritania. No one forced us on them. Their governments asked the United Nations for help in finding an answer to the strange sickness sweeping their lands. We are invited guests, certainly not unwanted enemies."
Yerli stared at Hopper. "You're forgetting, Frank. There was one government who wanted no part of us."
Hopper nodded grimly. "You're right. I overlooked President Tahir of Mali. He was very reluctant to allow us inside his borders."
"More likely General Kazim," said Yerli. "Tahir is a puppet head of state. Zateb Kazim is the true power behind the Malian government."
"What's he got against harmless biologists trying to save lives?" asked Eva.
Yerli turned up his palms. "We may never know."
"It does seem a timely coincidence," said Hopper softly, "that people, especially Europeans, have been vanishing with some regularity in the great emptiness of northern Mali during the past year."
"Like the tourist safari that's making the headlines," said Eva.
"Their whereabouts and fate are still a mystery," added Yerli quietly.
"I can't believe there's a connection between that tragedy and Eva's attack," said Hopper.
"But if we assume that General Kazim is the villain in Eva's case, it would stand to reason his spies ferreted out the yet that she was a member of the Malian biological studies gram. With that knowledge in hand, he ordered her assassination as a warning for the rest of us to stay clear of his camel park."
Eva laughed. "With your fertile imagination, Ismail, you'd make a great Hollywood screenwriter."
Yerli's thick eyebrows pinched together. "I think we should play safe and keep the Mali team in Cairo until this matter can be fully investigated and resolved."
"You're overreacting," Hopper said to Yerli. "How do you vote, Eva? Cancel the mission or go?"
"I'll risk it," said Eva. "But I can't speak for the other team members."
Hopper stared at the floor, nodding his head. "Then we'll ask for volunteers. I won't cancel the Mali mission, not with hundreds, maybe thousands, of people dying out there from something nobody can explain. I'll lead the team myself."
"No, Frank!" snapped Eva. "What if the worst happens? You're too valuable to lose."
"It's our duty to report this affair to the police before you run off half-cocked," Yerli persisted.
"Get serious, Ismail," said Hopper impatiently. "Go to the local police and they're liable to-hold us up and delay the entire mission. We could be bound in red tape for a month. I'll not walk into the clutches of Middle East bureaucracy."
"My contacts can cut the red tape," pleaded Yerli.
"No," Hopper said adamantly. "I want all teams on board our chartered aircraft and in the air toward their designated locations as scheduled."
"Then we're on for tomorrow morning," said Eva.
Hopper nodded. "No hang-ups, no rainchecks. We're going to put our show on the road first thing in the morning."
"You're needlessly endangering lives," murmured Yerli.
"Not if I take out insurance."
Yerli looked at Hopper, not comprehending. "Insurance?"
"Actually a press conference. Before we leave, I'll call in every foreign correspondent and news service in Cairo and explain our project with special emphasis on Mali. Of course, I'll make mention of the potential dangers involved. Then, in light of the international publicity surrounding our presence in his country, General Kazim will think twice before threatening the lives of scientists-on a well-publicized mission of mercy."
Yerli sighed heavily. "For your sakes, I hope so. I truly hope so."
Eva came over and sat down by the Turk. "It will be all right," she insisted quietly. "No harm will come to us."
"Nothing I can say will talk you out of it? You must go then?"
"There are thousands who might die if we don't," said Hopper firmly.
Yerli stared sadly at them, then bowed his head in silent acceptance, his face suddenly pale.
"Then may Allah protect you, because if he doesn't, you will surely die."
Pitt was standing in the lobby of the Nile Hilton when Eva stepped from the elevator. He was dressed in a tan poplin suit with single-breasted jacket and pleated pants. The shirt was a light shade of blue with a wide Botticelli tie of deep blue silk with black and gold paisleys.
He stood casual and loose, his hands clasped behind his back, head tilted slightly to one side, as he studied a beautiful, young, raven-haired Egyptian woman in a tightfitting gold sequin dress. She was sweeping across the lobby in a blaze of glitter, hooked arm in arm with an elderly man easily three times her age. She jabbered every step across the carpet. Her ample bottom swung back and forth like a melon on a pendulum.
There was nothing in Pitt's expression to suggest lust. He stared at the performance with a detached sort of curiosity. Eva walked up behind him and placed her hand on his elbow. "You like her?" she asked, smiling.
Pitt turned and looked down at her through the greenest eyes she had ever seen. His lips raised in a slight crooked grin that Eva found devastating. "She does make a statement."
"Is she your type?"
"No, I prefer quiet, intelligent women."
His voice was deep with a mellow quality, she thought. She smelled a faint aroma of men's cologne, not the pungent variety brewed by French perfume companies for fashion designers' private labels, but a more masculine scent. "I hope I can take that as a compliment."
"You may."
She flushed, and her eyes unconsciously lowered. "I have an early-morning flight tomorrow, so I should get to bed early." God, this is awful, she thought. I'm acting like a girl meeting her date for a freshman prom.
"A great pity. I'd planned to stay out all night and show you every den of iniquity and sin pot in Cairo. All the exotic spots unfrequented by tourists."
"Are you serious?"
Pitt laughed. "Not really. Actually, I thought it wise if we dine in your hotel and stay off the streets. Your friends might have it in their heads to try again."