What river had Venator sailed before burying the priceless objects? it could be any one of a thousand that course into the Atlantic between the Saint Lawrence in Canada to the Rfo de la Plata of Argentina. No, not quite. Yaeger theorized the Serapes had taken on water and made repairs off what was to become New Jersey. The unknown river had to be south, much further south than the rivers that flow into Chesapeake Bay.
Could Venator have led his fleet into the Gulf of Mexico and up the Mississippi? Today's stream must be far different from what it was sixteen hundred years ago. Perhaps he had sailed into the OTinoco in Venezuela, which could be navigated for two hundred miles. Or maybe the Amazon?
He let his mind wander through the irony of it all. If Junius Venator's voyage to the Americas was absolutely proved by the discovery of the buried Library artifacts, history books needed to be revised and new chapters written.
Poor Leif Eriksson and Christopher Columbus would be relegated to footnotes.
Pitt was still daydreaming when he was interrupted by the steward telling him to fasten his seat belt.
It was dusk and the aircraft had dipped its nose and was dropping into the long glide toward Andrews Air Force Base. The twinkling sprawl of Washington slid past, and Pitt soon found himself hobbling down the steps on a cane hastily bent from an aluminum tube and presented by the grateful crew of the Lady Flamborough. He set foot on the concrete at almost exactly the same spot as on his arrival from Greenland.
Hala came down and bid him goodbye. She was continuing on with the plane to New York.
"You've become a treasured memory, Dirk Pitt."
"We never did make our dinner date."
"The next time you're in Cairo, it's on me."
The Senator overheard and came over. "Cairo, Ms. Kamil. Not New York?"
Hala gave him a smile worthy of the beautiful Aphrodite. "I am resigning as SecretaryGeneral and returning home. Democracy is dying in Egypt. I can do more to keep it alive by working in the midst of my people."
"What of Yazid?"
"President Hasan has vowed to place him under house arrest."
A frown crossed Senator Pitts face. "Be careful. Yazid is still a dangerous man."
"if not Yazid, there is always another maniac waiting in the wings." Her soft dark eyes belied the fear that rode in her heart. She gave him a daughterly hug. "tell your President Egypt will not become a nation of insane fanatics."
"I'll pass along your words."
She turned back to Pitt. She was on the brink of falling in love with him but fought her feelings with every bit of will she possessed. Her legs felt weak as she took both his hands and stared upward into his ageless face. for an instant, in her mind's eye, she saw herself entwilled with his body, caressing his muscled skin, and then just as quickly she erased the thought. She had found brief fulfillment with him, long denied, but she knew she could never divide her love for one man with that for Egypt.
Her life belonged to those who had no life except misery and poverty.
She kissed him tenderly.
"Do not forget me."
Before Pitt could answer, Hala had turned and hurried up the steps into the aircraft. He stood looking at the empty entrance for a long moment.
The Senator read his thoughts and interrupted them. "They've sent an ambulance to take you to the hospital."
"Hospital?" Pitt said vacantly, still watching as the door closed. The jet engines whistled as the pilot increased the rpm and began to taxi toward the main strip.
Pitt tore the bandages from around his head and face and threw them into the jet's exhaust, where they were caught and sent swirling through the air like airborne snakes.
Only when the plane was airborne did he make his reply. "I'm not going to no damned hospital."
"Over doing it a bit, don't you ?" think?" the Senator said with paternal concern, full knowing it was a waste of breath to preach to his independent-minded son.
"How are you getting to the White House?" asked Pitt. The Senator nodded toward a waiting helicopter about a hundred meters away. "the President arranged my transportation."
"Mind dropping me at NUMA?"
His father looked at him slyly. "You're speaking figuratively, of course."
Pitt grinned. "You never let me forget which side of the family my sadistic sense of humor came from."
The Senator slapped his arm around Pitts waist. "Come on, you crazy nut, let me help you over to the helicopter."
The tension built like a twisting knot in his stomach as Pitt stood in the elevator, watching the numbers rise toward NUMAs computer complex.
Lily was standing in the foyer as the doors parted and he stepped out.
She wore a big smile that froze when she saw the , bedraggled look, the long scab on his cheek, the hump of the bandage beneath a knit fisherman's turtleneck sweater borrowed from his father, the dragging leg and cane. Then she bravely broke out the smile again.
"Welcome home, sailor."
She stepped forward and threw her arms around his neck. He winced and groaned under his breath. She jumped back.
"Oh, I'm sorry."
Pin clutched her. "Don't be." Then he mashed his lips against hers. His beard scraped against her skin and he smelled of gin-and delightfully masculine.
"There's something to be said for men who only come home once a week,"
she said finally.
"And for women who wait," he said, stepping back. He glanced around.
"What have you and Hiram found out since I left?"
"I'll let Hiram tell you," she answered airily, taking him by the hand and leading him across the computer installation.
Yaeger charged out of his office. Without a word of greeting or sympathy for Pitts wounds, he came straight to the heart of the breakthrough.
"We've found it!" he announced grandly.
"The river?" Pitt asked anxiously.
"Not only the river, but I think I can put you within two square miles of the artifacts' cavern."
+"Where?"
"Texas. A little border town called Roma."
Yaeger had the smug, complacent look of a Tyrannosaurus rex that had just dined on a brontosaurus. "Nwned for seven hills, just like the capital of Italy. Pretty low, insignificant hills, I admit. But there are also reports of Roman artifacts supposedly having been dug up in the area. Scoffed at by accredited archaeologists, of course, but what do they know?"
"Then the river is?"
"The Rio Bravo, as it's called in Spanish." Yaeger nodded. "Better known on this side as the Rio Grande."
"The Rio Grande." Pitt repeated the words slowly, savoring each syllable to the full, finding it difficult to accept the truth after dozens of missed hunches, wild guesses and dead-end speculations.
"It's really a great shame," Yaeger suddenly said morosely.
Pitt glanced at him in faint surprise. "Why do you say that?"
Yaeger shook his head heavily. "Because there'll be no living with the Texans as soon as they learn what they've been sitting on for the last sixteen centuries."
At noon the next day, after landing at the Corpus Christi Naval Air Station, Pitt and Lily, along with Admiral Sandecker, were driven by a Seaman First Class to NUMA!s ocean research center on the bay. Sandecker directed the driver to stop beside a helicopter squatting on a concrete pad beside a long dock. There were no clouds, the sun was alone in the sky. The temperature was mild but the humidity high, and they quickly began to sweat after exiting the car.
NUMAs chief geologist, Herb Garza, gave a friendly wave and approached.
He was short, plump, brown-skinned, with a few pockmarks on his cheeks and gleaming black hair. Garza wore a California Angels baseball cap and a fluorescent orange shirt that was so blasting Pitt could still see it after he momentarily closed his eyes.
"Garza," said Sandecker curtly. "Good to see you again."
"I've looked forward to your arrival," Garza said warmly. "We can take off as soon as you board." He turned and introduced the pilot, Joe Mifflin, who wore "Smiling Jack" sunglasses and struck Pitt as being about as animated as a door knob.