"The cabin ceiling was too low and my seat too short," the tall toxicologist complained. "And to make matters worse, the Admiral beat me ten games to four at gin rummy."
"Let me help you throw your luggage in the car, and we'll head into Manhattan."
"Did you set an appointment with Hala Kamil?" asked Sandecker.
Yaeger nodded. "I phoned the UN Headquarters as soon as you radioed your time of arrival. Secretary General Kamil has rearranged her schedule to fit us in. Her aide was surprised she'd do that for you."
Sandecker smiled. "We go back a ways."
"She'll meet with us at ten-thirty."
The Admiral glanced at his watch. "An hour and a half. Time for a cup of coffee and some breakfast."
"Sounds good," said Chapman between yawns. "I'm half starved."
Yaeger took the parkway from the airport and turned off on Coney Island Avenue where he found a delicatessen. They settled into a booth and ordered from a waitress who openly stared at the towering figure of Dr. Chapman.
"What'll it be, gents?"
"Lox, cream cheese, and a bagel," ordered Sandecker.
Chapman opted for a pastrami and salami omelet while Yaeger simply had a Danish. They were silent within their own thoughts until the waitress brought their coffee. Sandecker stirred an ice cube in his cup to cool the brew and then settled back against the booth's backrest.
"What do your electronic babies have to say about the red tides?" he asked Yaeger.
"The projections look pretty grim," the computer expert said, toying with a fork. "I've run a continuous update of the increasing dimensions from satellite photos. The growth rate boggles the mind. It's like the old adage of starting with a penny and doubling it every day until you're a billionaire by the end of the month. The red tide off West Africa is spreading and doubling its size every four days. At four o'clock this morning it covered an area measuring 40,000 square kilometers."
"Or 100,000 square miles," Sandecker translated into the old system of measurement.
"At that rate it will cover the entire South Atlantic in three to four weeks," figured Chapman.
"Do you have a clue to the cause?" asked Yaeger.
"Only that it's probably an organometallic that's promoting a mutation of the dinoflagellates that make up the core of the red tide."
"Organometallic?"
"A combination of a metal and an organic substance," Chapman explained.
"Any particular compound that stands out?"
"Not yet. We identified dozens of contaminants, but none of them appear responsible. All we can guess at the moment is that a metallic element somehow got mixed with synthetic compounds or chemical by-products that were dumped in the Niger River."
"Might even be waste from exotic biotech research," suggested Yaeger.
"There are no exotic biotech experiments going on in West Africa," Sandecker said firmly.
"Somehow this unidentified crap acts as an exciter," Chapman continued, "almost like a hormone as it creates a mutant red tide with a staggering growth rate and an incredible degree of toxicity as well."
The conversation paused as the waitress served their breakfast off a tray. She left and returned with a pot of coffee and refilled their cups.
"Any chance we're looking at a bacterial reaction to a raw sewage spill?" asked Yaeger as he gazed sadly at a Danish that looked as if it had been stepped on by a greasy boot.
"Sewage can act as a nutrient for algae just as manure does with agricultural vegetation on land," said Chapman. "But not in this case. What we're dealing with is an ecological disaster that goes far beyond anything human waste can produce."
Sandecker knifed the cream cheese on his bagel and laid on the salmon. "So while we sit here and stuff our mouths, a red tide is forming that will make the '91 Iraqi oil spill look like a puddle in the Kansas prairie."
"And we can do nothing to stop it," admitted Chapman. "Without the proper analysis of water samples, I can only theorize on the chemical compound. Until Rudi Gunn finds the needle in the haystack and who or what put it there, our hands are tied."
"What's the latest word?" Yaeger asked.
"Word on what?" Sandecker mumbled between bites.
"Our three friends on the Niger," Yaeger answered, irritated at Sandecker's seeming indifference. "Transmission of their data telemetry suddenly stopped yesterday."
The Admiral glanced around the delicatessen to make sure he wasn't heard. "They became involved in a little altercation with two gunboats and a helicopter of the Benin navy."
"A little altercation!" Yaeger blurted incredulously. "How in hell did that happen? Were they injured?"
"We can only assume they survived in good shape," Sandecker said guardedly. "They were about to be boarded. To keep the project intact there was no choice but for them to go into a combat mode. During the fight their communications equipment must have been taken out."
"That explains why their telemetry failed," said Yaeger, calming down.
"Satellite photos from the National Security Agency," continued Sandecker, "show they blasted the hell out of both vessels and the copter and made it safely across the border into Mali."
Yaeger sagged in his seat, suddenly not hungry. "They'll never get out of Mali. They're sailing into a dead-end. I've run computer profiles on the Malian government. Their military leader has the worst record of human rights in West Africa. Pitt and the others will be caught and hanged on the nearest date palm."
"That's why we're meeting with the Secretary General of the UN," said Sandecker.
"What good can she do?"
"The UN is our only hope to get our team and their data out safely."
"Why am I beginning to get the idea our Niger River research was nonsanctioned?" Yaeger asked.
"We couldn't convince the politicians of the immediate urgency," said Chapman in frustration. "They kept insisting on setting up a special committee to look into the matter. Can you believe that? With the world on the brink of extinction, our illustrious elected officials want to strut their self-importance while bunched together in executive chairs and vocalize like an a cappella choir."
"What Darcy is saying," explained Sandecker, smiling at Chapman's choice of words, "is that we explained the emergency to the President, the Secretary of State, and several Congressional leaders. They all refused our request to twist the arms of the West African nations to permit us to analyze the river water."
Yaeger stared at him. "So to get a head start you sent Pitt, Giordino, and Gunn in on the sly."
"There was no other way. The clock is running down. We had to go around our own government. If this operation leaks out, my ass will be dipped in acid."
"This is worse than I thought."
"That's why we need the UN," said Chapman. "Without their cooperation there's too good a chance Pitt, Giordino, and Gunn will go into a Malian prison and never come out."
"And the data we require so desperately," said Sandecker, "will disappear with them."
Yaeger bore a look of sadness. "You sacrificed them, Admiral. You willingly sacrificed our closest friends."
Sandecker gave Yaeger a granite look. "Do you think 1 didn't wrestle with the devil over my decision? Considering the stakes, who would you have trusted to get the job done? Who would you have sent up the Niger?"
Yaeger rubbed his temples for a moment before answering. Finally, he nodded. "You're right, of course. They're the best. If anyone can accomplish the impossible, it's Pitt."
"I'm delighted you agree," Sandecker said gruffly. He looked at his watch again. "We'd better pay up and get rolling. I don't want to keep Secretary General Kamil waiting. Not when I'm about to get down on my knees and beg like a lost soul."