'No one expected you by train.'
'Hargrove couldn't risk flying his choppers through Kazim's fighter defense screen in daylight.'
Pitt looked up as an Apache warbird circled the fort, its sophisticated electronics probing over the horizons for intruders. 'You made it through without detection,' he said. 'That's what counts.'
Giordino looked into Pitt's eyes guardedly. 'Eva?'
'Alive but badly injured. Thanks to you and your air horn, she missed dying by two seconds.'
'She came that close to being shot by Kazim's mob?' Giordino asked curiously.
'No, shot by me.' Before Giordino could reply, Pitt gestured toward the entrance to the arsenal. 'Come along. She'll be happy to see your Quasimodo face.'
Giordino's face grew sober at the sight of all the wounded with their bloody bandages and splints lying jammed on the floor of the cramped area. He was surprised by the damage caused by falling stones from the ceiling. But what stunned him most was the incredible silence. None of the wounded uttered a sound, no moan escaped their lips. No one in that crumbling arsenal cellar spoke. The children merely stared at him, totally subdued after hours of fright.
Then, as if on cue, they all broke into weak cheers and applause at recognizing Giordino as the one who brought reinforcements and saved their lives. Pitt was amused by it all. He had never seen Giordino display so much modesty and embarrassment as the men reached out to shake his hand and the women kissed him like a long-lost lover.
Then Giordino spotted Eva as she raised her head and flashed a wide smile. 'Al. . . oh Al, I knew you'd come back.'
He crouched beside her, careful not to make contact with her injuries, and awkwardly patted her hand. 'You don't know how glad I am to see you and Dirk still breathing.'
'We had quite a party,' she said bravely. 'Too bad you missed it.'
'They sent me out for ice.'
She glanced around at the others suffering around her. 'Can't something be done for them?'
'The medics from the Special Forces are on their way,' Pitt explained. 'Everyone will be evacuated as soon as possible:'
Another few moments of small talk and the big, tough looking Rangers appeared and began tenderly carrying the children and helping their mothers outside to a waiting transport helicopter that had set down on the parade ground. The Ranger medics, assisted by the exhausted UN medical team, then directed the evacuation of the wounded.
Giordino obtained a stretcher, and with Pitt hobbling on one end, gently carried Eva into the bright afternoon sun.
'I never thought I'd hear myself say the desert heat feels good,' she murmured.
Two Rangers reached through the open cargo door of the helicopter. 'We'll take her from here,' said one.
'Put her in first class,' Pitt smiled at the men. 'She's a very special lady.'
'Eva!' a voice thundered from inside the helicopter. Dr. Hopper sat up on a stretcher, a bandage covering half his bare chest and another across one side of his face. 'Let us hope this flight has a more enjoyable destination than the last one.'
'Congratulations, Doc,' said Pitt. 'I'm glad to see you came through.'
'Got four of the beggars before one downed me with a hand grenade.'
'Fairweather?' asked Pitt, not seeing the Britisher.
Hopper shook his head sadly. 'He didn't make it.'
Pitt and Giordino helped the Rangers tie down Eva's stretcher next to Hopper's. Then Pitt brushed her hair back with his hands. 'You're in good company with the Doc.'
She looked up at Pitt, wishing with all her heart that he could sweep her into his arms. 'You're not coming?'
'Not this trip.'
'But you need medical care,' she protested.
'I have some unfinished business.'
'You can't stay in Mali,' she implored him. 'You mustn't, not after all that's happened.'
'Al and I came to West Africa to do a job. It isn't finished yet.'
'Is this the end of us then?' she asked in a choking voice.
'No, nothing so final.'
'When will I see you again?'
'Soon, if all goes well,' he said sincerely.
She lifted her head, her eyes gleaming in the sunlight with unshed tears. Then she kissed him lightly on the mouth. 'Please hurry.'
Pitt and Giordino stepped back as the helicopter's pilot increased the rpms and the craft lifted off the ground, throwing up a maelstrom of dust inside the fort. They watched the chopper as it rose above the crumpled walls and swung toward the west.
Then Giordino turned to Pitt and nodded at his injuries. 'We'd better get you patched up if you're about to do what I think you want to do.'
Pitt insisted on waiting until all of the more seriously wounded were treated before he allowed a medic to remove the shrapnel from his left arm and shoulder, stitch them up along with the bullet hole in the flesh of his thigh, give him two shots for infection and one for pain, before padding him with bandages. Afterward, he and Giordino bid their goodbyes to Levant and Pembroke-Smythe before the UN officers were airlifted out with the surviving members of the UN team.
'You're not joining us?' asked Levant.
'The one who lies behind all this senseless slaughter cannot be allowed to walk away,' Pitt answered cryptically.
'Yves Massarde?'
Pitt nodded silently.
'I wish you luck.' He shook their hands. 'Gentlemen, I can think of little more to say except to thank you for your services.'
'A pleasure, Colonel,' said Giordino with a cocky smile. 'Call on us anytime.'
'I hope they give you a medal,' said Pitt, 'and promote you to General. No man deserves it more.'
Levant surveyed the devastation as if searching for something, perhaps envisioning the men of his command who were still buried under the rubble. 'I hope the sacrifices endured by both sides were worth the terrible price in lives.'
Pitt shrugged heavily. 'Death is paid for by grief and measured only by the depth of the grave.'
Pembroke-Smythe, head high, glorious disdain engraved on his handsome face, was the last to board. 'Bloody good sport,' he said. 'We must all get together and do it again some time,'
'We can hold a reunion,' muttered Giordino sarcastically.
'If we ever meet in London,' said Pembroke-Smythe, unperturbed, 'the Dom Perignon is on me. In fact, I'll introduce you to some marvelous girls who oddly find Americans appealing.'
'Will we get a ride in your Bentley?' asked Pitt.
'How did you know I drove a Bentley?' replied Pembroke-Smythe in mild surprise.
Pitt grinned. 'Somehow it fit.'
They turned away without a backward look as the helicopter carrying the last of the UN Tactical Team soared across the desert toward Mauritania and safety. A young black lieutenant trotted across their path and waved them to a stop.
'Pardon me, Mr. Pitt, Mr. Giordino?'
Pitt nodded. 'That's us.'
'Colonel Hargrove wants you over at the Malian headquarters across the railroad track.'
Giordino knew better than to offer Pitt a shoulder as his friend limped across the sand, teeth gritted against the pain shooting from his thigh. The opaline eyes never ceased to gleam with determination from a gaunt face partly covered by a bandage.
