Hala Kamil, the Egyptian Secretary General of the United Nations, had the beauty and mystery of Nefertiti. Forty-seven years old, black eyes with a haunting quality, long ebony hair flowing slightly below her shoulders, delicate facial features enhanced by a flawless complexion, she kept her beauty and youthful look despite the heavy weight of her prestigious office. She was tall, and her shapely figure was apparent even under her conservative suit.
She rose and came from behind her desk as Sandecker and his friends were ushered into her office in the UN Headquarters Building. "Admiral Sandecker, how nice to see you again."
"My pleasure, Madam Secretary." Sandecker fairly beamed when in the presence of a beautiful woman. He returned her firm handshake and made a slight bow. "Thank you for seeing me."
"You're amazing, Admiral. You haven't changed."
"And you look even younger."
She smiled a ravishing smile. "Compliments aside. We've both added a wrinkle or two. It has been a long time."
"Almost five, years." Then he turned and introduced Chapman and Yaeger.
Hala took little notice of Chapman's size or Yaeger's attire. She was too used to meeting multisized people from a hundred nations in a variety of dress. She held out a small hand in the direction of facing sofas. "Please be seated."
"I'll be brief," Sandecker said without preamble. "I need your help in an urgent matter concerning an environmental disaster in the making that is threatening the very existence of the human race."
Her dark eyes stared at him skeptically. "You've made a very weighty statement, Admiral. If this is another dire prediction of the greenhouse effect, I've become immune."
"Something far worse," Sandecker said seriously. "By the end of the year most of the world's population will only be a memory."
Hala looked at the faces of the men sitting across from her. Their faces were set and grim. She began to believe him. She didn't exactly know why she believed him. But she knew Sandecker well enough to feel confident he was not a man given to fancy, nor would he run around claiming the sky was falling unless he had absolute, scientific proof.
"Please go on," she said briefly.
Sandecker turned the meeting over to Chapman and Yaeger, who reported their findings on the mushrooming red tide. After about twenty minutes, Hala excused herself and pressed a button on a desk intercom. "Sarah, would you please call the ambassador of Peru and tell him an important matter has come up and ask him if it's convenient for him to postpone our meeting until this time tomorrow."
"We deeply appreciate your time and interest," said Sandecker, and he meant it.
"There is no doubt about the horror of this threat?" she put to Chapman.
"None. If the red tide spreads unhindered over the oceans, it will stifle the oxygen required to support global life."
"And that doesn't take into consideration the toxicity," added Yaeger, "which is certain to cause mass death of all marine life and any human or animal that consumes it."
She looked at Sandecker. "What about your Congress, your scientists? Surely there must be concern by your government and the world environmental community."
"There is concern," replied Sandecker. "We've presented our evidence to the President and members of Congress, but the gears of the bureaucracy grind slowly. Committees are studying the matter, No decisions are forthcoming. The scope of the horror is beyond them. They cannot conceive of the rapidly dwindling time element."
"We have, of course, passed our preliminary findings along to ocean and contamination scientists," said Chapman. "But until we can isolate the exact cause of this plague on the seas, there is little any of us can do to create a solution."
Hala was silent. It was difficult for her to come to grips with apocalypse, especially on such short notice. In a way she was powerless. Her position as Secretary General of the UN was more as an illusionary queen of a hollow kingdom. Her job was to watch over the diverse peacekeeping functions and the many trade and relief programs. She could direct but not command.
She looked across a coffee table at Sandecker. "Other than promise the cooperation of our United Nations Environment Program Organization, I don't see what else I can do."
Sandecker's self-confidence took another step forward and his voice, low and tense, came slow and distinctly. "I sent a boat with a team of men up the Niger River to analyze the water in an attempt to find the source behind the red tide explosion."
Hala's dark eyes were cool and penetrating. "Was that your boat that sank the Benin gunboats?" she asked.
"Your intelligence is very good."
"I receive briefings from reports gathered around the world."
"Yes, it was a NUMA vessel," Sandecker admitted.
"You know, I assume, the Admiral who was Chief-of-Staff for the Benin navy and brother of the nation's president was killed in the battle."
"I heard."
"It was my understanding your boat was flying a French ensign. Doing your devious dirty work under a foreign flag could get your crew shot as enemy agents by the West Africans."
"My men were aware of the danger and volunteered. They knew every hour counts if we are to stop the red tide before it expands beyond our technology to kill it."
"Are they still alive?"
Sandecker nodded. "As of a few hours ago they had traced the contamination across the Malian border and were I approaching the town of Gao unmolested."
"Who else in your government knows about this?"
Sandecker nodded at Chapman and Yaeger. "Only the three of us and the men on the boat. No one outside of NUMA except you."
"General Kazim, the Malian Chief of Security, is no fool. He'll learn about the battle with Benin's navy, and his intelligence will have warned him of your crew's, entry into his country. He'll arrest them the minute they dock."
"The very reason I came to you, Madam Secretary."
This was it, Hala thought. "What do you want from me, Admiral?"
"Your help in saving my men."
"I thought it would come down to that."
"It's vital they be rescued as soon as they discover the origin of the contamination."
"We desperately need their analysis data," said Chapman flatly.
"Then it's the findings you really want to rescue," she said coldly.
"I'm not in the habit of abandoning brave men," Sandecker said, his chin thrust forward.
Hala gave a negative shake of her head. "Sorry, gentlemen, I can understand your desperation. But I cannot jeopardize the honor of this office by misusing my power to take part in an illegitimate international operation, regardless of how crucial."
"Not even if the men you save are Dirk Pitt and Al Giordino and Rudi Gunn."
Her eyes widened for a brief moment, and then she sagged back in her chair, her thoughts lost in the past for a brief instant. "I begin to see the picture," she said softly. "You're using me just as you used them."
"I'm not planning a celebrity tennis match," said Sandecker flatly. "I'm trying to prevent the loss of uncountable lives."
"You really shoot for the heart, don't you?"
"When it's necessary."
Chapman's eyebrows rose. "I'm afraid I don't understand any of this."
Hala stared off into space as she spoke. "About five years ago, the three men you sent up the Niger saved my life from terrorist assassins, not once but twice. The first time was on a mountain in Breckenridge, Colorado; the other was at an abandoned mine near a glacier on the Straits of Magellan. Admiral Sandecker is playing on my conscience to repay the favor."
"I seem to recall," said Yaeger, nodding. "It was during the hunt for the Alexandria Library treasure."
Sandecker rose, came over, and sat down beside her. "Will you help us, Madam Secretary?"
Hala sat motionless as a statue that slowly began to crack. Her breathing seemed faint and shallow. Finally, she turned slightly and faced Sandecker.