standing in only the hospital smock. 'I escaped the clutches of the nurse from hell to come here and greet you,' he said, without any sign of embarrassment.
'Are you mending okay?'
'I'll be back at my desk at NUMA before you.'
Pitt turned and hailed Rodgers. 'Miles, you got your camera?'
'No good photographer is ever without his cameras,' Rodgers shouted over the noise of the crowd.
'Take a picture of the three battered bastards of Cerro el Capirote.'
'And one battered bitch,' added Loren, squeezing into the lineup.
Rodgers got off three shots before the reporters took over.
'Mr. Pitt!' One of the TV interviewers pushed a microphone in front of his face. 'What can you tell us about the subterranean river?'
'Only that it exists,' he answered smoothly, 'and that it's very wet.'
'How large would you say it is?'
He had to think a moment as he slipped his arm around Loren and squeezed her hip. 'I'd guess about two-thirds the size of the Rio Grande.'
'That big?'
'Easily.'
'How do you feel after swimming through underground caverns for over a hundred kilometers?'
Pitt was always irritated when a reporter asked how a mother or father felt after their house burned down with all their children inside, or how a witness felt who watched someone fall from an airplane without a parachute.
'Feel?' stated Pitt. 'Right now I feel that my bladder will burst if I don't get to a bathroom.'
HOMECOMING
Two days later, after everyone gave detailed statements to the Mexican investigators, they were free to leave the country. They assembled on the dock to bid their farewells.
Dr. Peter Duncan was the first to leave. The hydrologist slipped away early in the morning and was gone before anyone missed him. He had a busy year ahead of him as director of the Sonoran Water Project, as it was to be called. The water from the river was to prove a godsend to the drought-plagued Southwest. Water, the lifeblood of civilization, would create jobs for the people of the desert. Construction of aqueducts and pipelines would channel the water into towns and cities and would turn a dry lake into a recreational reservoir the size of Lake Powell.
Soon to follow would be projects to mine the mineral riches Pitt had discovered on his underground odyssey and to build a tourist center beneath the earth.
Dr. Shannon Kelsey was invited back to Peru to continue her excavations of the ruins in the Chachapoyan cities. Where she went, Miles Rodgers followed.
'I hope we meet again,' said Rodgers, shaking Pitt's hand.
'Only if you promise to stay out of sacred sinkholes,' Pitt said warmly.
Rodgers laughed. 'Count on it.'
Pitt looked down into Shannon's eyes. The determination and boldness burned as bright as ever. 'I wish you all the best.'
She saw in him the only man she had ever met whom she couldn't have or control. She felt an undercurrent of affection toward him she couldn't explain. Just to spite Loren again, Shannon kissed Pitt long and hard.
'So long, big guy. Don't forget me.'
Pitt nodded and said simply, 'I couldn't if I tried.'
Shortly after Shannon and Miles left in their rented car for the airport in San Diego, a NUMA helicopter dropped out of the sun and touched down on the deck of the Alhambra. The pilot left the engine idling as he jumped down from the cargo hatch. He looked around a moment and then, recognizing Sandecker, approached him.
'Good morning, Admiral. Ready to leave, or should 1 shut down the engine?'
'Keep it running,' answered Sandecker. 'What's the status of my NUMA passenger jet?'
'Waiting on the ground at the Yuma Marine Corps Air Station to fly you and the others back to Washington.'
'Okay, we're set to board.' Sandecker turned to Pitt. 'So, you're going on sick leave?'
'Loren and I thought we'd join a Classic Car Club of America tour through Arizona.'
'I'll expect you in one week.' He turned to Loren and gave her a brief kiss on the cheek. 'You're a member of Congress. Don't take any crap from him and see that he gets back in one piece, fit for work.'
Loren smiled. 'Don't worry, Admiral. My constituents want me back on the job infighting shape too.'
'What about me?' said Giordino. 'Don't I get time off to recuperate?'
'You can sit behind a desk just as easily in a wheelchair.' Then Sandecker smiled fiendishly. 'Now, Rudi, he's a different case. I think I'll send him to Bermuda for a month.'
'Whatta guy,' said Gunn, trying desperately to keep a straight face.
It was a charade. Pitt and Giordino were like sons to Sandecker. Nothing went on between them that wasn't marked with a high degree of respect. The admiral knew with dead certainty that as soon as they were sound and able, they'd be in his office pressuring him for an ocean project to direct.
Two dockhands lifted Giordino into the helicopter. One seat had to be removed to accommodate his outstretched legs.
Pitt leaned in the doorway and tweaked one of the toes that protruded from the cast. 'Try not to lose this helicopter like all the others.'
'No big deal,' Giordino came back. 'I get one of these things every time I buy ten gallons of gas.'
Gunn placed his hand on Pitt's shoulder. 'It's been fun,' he said lightly. 'We must do it again sometime.'
Pitt made a horrified face. 'Not on your life.'
Sandecker gave Pitt a light hug. 'You rest up and take it easy,' he said softly so the others couldn't hear above the beat of the rotor blades. 'I'll see you when I see you.'
'I'll make it soon.'
Loren and Pitt stood on the deck of the ferryboat and waved until the helicopter turned northeast over the waters of the Gulf. He turned to her. 'Well, that just leaves us.'
She smiled teasingly. 'I'm starved. Why don't we head into Mexicali and find us a good Mexican restaurant?'
'Now that you've broached the subject, I have a sudden craving for huevos rancheros.'
'I guess I'll have to do the driving.'
Pitt lifted his hand. 'I still have one good arm.'
Loren wouldn't heir of it. Pitt stood on the dock and guided her as she competently drove the big Pierce Arrow and its trailer up the ramp from the auto deck of the ferryboat onto the dock.
Pitt took one last, longing look at the walking beams of the old paddle steamer and wished he could have sailed it through the Panama Canal and up the Potomac River to Washington. But it was not meant to be. He gave a forlorn sigh and was slipping into the passenger seat when a car pulled up alongside. Curtis Starger climbed out.
He hailed them. 'Glad I caught you before you left. Dave Gaskill said to make sure you got this.'
He handed Pitt something wrapped in an Indian blanket. Unable to take it with both hands, he looked helplessly at Loren. She took the blanket and spread it open.
Four faces painted on clublike prayer sticks stared hack at them. 'The sacred idols of the Montolos,' Pitt said quietly. 'Where did you find them?'
'We recovered them inside Joseph Zolar's private plane in Guaymas.'
'I'd guessed the idols were in his dirty hands.'
'They were positively identified as the missing Montolo effigies from a collectors data sheet we found with them,' explained Starger.
'This will make the Montolos very happy.'
