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Massarde scanned the contents and nodded. "Express my compliments and say he is to continue his investigation."

After the crewman left, Kazim asked, "Good news?"

"Most enlightening," Massarde purred. "From my agent with the United Nations. It seems these men are from the National Underwater and Marine Agency in Washington. Their mission was to hunt down a source of chemical contamination that originates in the Niger and causes a rapid growth in red tides after it enters the sea."

"A facade," sneered Kazim, "nothing more. They were sniffing around for something far more significant than pollution. My guess is oil."

"The very thoughts of my agent in New York. He suggested it might be a cover, and yet his source of information didn't think so."

Kazim looked at Massarde suspiciously. "Not a leak from Fort Foureau, I hope?"

"No, not at all," Massarde answered without hesitation. "My project is too distant to impact the Niger. No, it can only be another one of your many clandestine ventures you haven't seen fit to reveal."

Kazim's face went rigid and lifeless. "If anyone is responsible for spilling contamination in Mali, old friend, it must be you."

"Not possible," Massarde said flatly. He stared at Pitt. "You find this conversation interesting, Mr. Pitt?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You and your partner must be very valuable men."

"Not really. At the moment we're just your everyday, garden-variety prisoners."

"What do you mean by valuable?" inquired Kazim.

"My agent also reports the UN is sending a special tactical team to rescue them."

Just for a second Kazim looked shocked. Then he quickly came back on balance. "A special force is coming here?"

"Probably already on its way, now that Mr. Pitt was able to contact his superior." Massarde glanced at the message again. "According to my agent, his name is Admiral James Sandecker."

"It would appear there is no fooling you." The elegant room on the houseboat was cooled by air conditioning, and Pitt shivered uncontrollably after suffering the steamed heat in the bilge, but he was more conscious of a nameless chill. It came as a shock that Massarde was privy to the entire mission. He tried to imagine who might have betrayed them, but no one came immediately to mind.

"Well, well, well, we are not so clever and indifferent now that our cover is blown, are we my friend?" Kazim poured himself another glass of Massarde's excellent champagne. Then he looked up abruptly from his glass. "Where were you planning to rendezvous with the UN force, Mr. Pitt?"

Pitt was trying to give his impression of a man with amnesia. This was a dead-end street. The Gao airport was too obvious a pickup point. He dared not compromise Gunn, but he took a long shot in hopes that Kazim was as dumb as he looked.

"The Gao airport, they're flying in at dawn. We were to wait at the west end of the airstrip."

Kazim stared at Pitt for a brief moment, then suddenly he struck Pitt across the forehead with the barrel of his Beretta. "Liar!" he snapped.

Pitt ducked his head and covered his face with his arms. "It's the truth, I swear."

"Liar," Kazim repeated. "The airstrip at Gao runs north and south. There is no west end."

Pitt exhaled his breath in a long silent sigh, and shook his head very slowly. "I guess it would be useless to hold out. You'll get it out of me sooner or later."

"Unfortunately for you, I have methods for doing just that."

"Very well," Pitt said. "Admiral Sandecker's instructions after we destroyed the boat were to head due south of Gao about 20 kilometers to a wide, shallow ravine. A helicopter is to be flown in from Niger."

"What is the signal for a safe pickup?"

"There is no need for a signal. The surrounding countryside is deserted. I was told the helicopter will scout the area with its landing lights until they spot us."

"What time?"

"Four A.M."

Kazim looked at him long and pensively, then said caustically, "If you have lied to me again, you will deeply regret it."

Kazim put his Beretta back in its holster and turned to Massarde. "No time to waste. I have to prepare a welcoming ceremony."

"You would be smart, Zateb, to keep the UN at arm's length. I strongly advise against interfering with their tactical team. When they do not find Pitt and his friend, they will fly back to Nigeria. Shooting down the helicopter and killing every man on board will only open a hornet's nest."

"They are invading my country."

"A trivial point." Massarde waved his hand. "National pride does not become you. The loss of aid and funding for your, shall we say, nefarious programs, would not be worth satisfying a blood lust. Let them go unmolested."

Kazim gave a twisted smile, and a dry, humorless laugh. "Yves, you take all the pleasure from my life."

"While putting millions of francs in your pockets."

"And that too," Kazim acquiesced.

Massarde nodded at Pitt. "Besides, you can still have your fun with this one and his friend. I'm sure they will tell you what you wish to learn."

"They will talk before noon."

"I'm quite sure they will."

"Thank you for softening them up in your engine room sweat box."

"My pleasure." Massarde walked to a side door. "Now if you will excuse me, I must see to my guests. I've ignored them far too long."

"A favor," said Kazim.

"You have but to name it."

"Keep Mr. Pitt and Mr. Giordino in your steam room for a while longer. I would like any remaining spirit and hostility melted away before I have them transported to my headquarters in Bamako."

"As you wish," Massarde agreed. "I'll instruct my crew to return Mr. Pitt to the bilge."

"Thank you, Yves, my friend, for capturing and turning them over to me. I'm grateful."

Massarde bowed his head. "My pleasure."

Before the door closed behind Massarde, Kazim refocused his attention on Pitt. His black eyes blazed with fiendishness. Pitt could only remember once before seeing such concentrated malevolence in a human face.

"Enjoy your stay in the sweat bilge, Mr. Pitt. Afterward, you will suffer, suffer beyond your wildest nightmares."

If Kazim expected Pitt to tremble with fear, it didn't happen. If anything, Pitt looked incredibly calm. He wore the beaming expression of a man who just hit a jackpot on a slot machine. Inwardly, Pitt was rejoicing because the General had unwittingly unraveled the hitch in his escape plans. The gate had cracked open, and Pitt was going to slip through.

Too wound up to sleep, Eva was the first of the dozing scientists to notice the descent of the aircraft. Though the pilots feathered the controls as gently as possible, Eva sensed the slight drop in engine power and knew the plane had lost altitude when her ears suddenly popped.

She looked out the window, but all she saw was total blackness. There were no lights to be seen on the empty desert floor. A glance at her watch told her it was ten past midnight, only one and a half short hours since they loaded the last of the equipment and contamination samples on board and took off from the graveyard that was Asselar.

She sat quietly and relaxed, thinking that perhaps the pilots were simply turning on a new course and changing altitude. But the sinking sensation in her stomach told her the plane was still dropping.

Eva rose into the aisle and walked to the rear of the cabin where Hopper exiled himself so he could smoke his pipe. She approached his seat and gently shook him awake. "Frank, something's wrong."

Hopper was a light sleeper and almost instantly focused his eyes and looked up at her questioningly. "What did you say?"

"The plane is descending. I think we're landing."

"Nonsense," he snorted. "Cairo is five hours away."

"No, I heard the engines slack off."