away from coming to a standstill.'
'But it appears both our efforts have paid off,' acknowledged Chapman. 'You and Al, finding and burning the source of the synthetic amino acid that stimulated the dinoflagellate population explosion, and our NUMA scientific team discovering the little critters are fussy about reproducing if they're subjected to a one-part- per=million dose of copper.'
'Have you found a significant drop in the contamination streaming into the Niger River since we shut off the flow?' asked Pitt.
Gunn nodded. 'By nearly 30 percent. I underestimated the migration rate of groundwater from the hazardous waste project south to the river. It moves more rapidly through the textured sand and gravel of the Sahara than I originally projected.'
'How long before the pollution reaches a safe level?'
'Dr. Chapman and I are predicting a good six months before most of its residue has flowed into the ocean.'
'Cutting off the pollutant was a vital first step,' Chapman spelled out. 'It gave us extra time to air drop copper particles over large areas of the tides. I think it's safe to say we've turned the corner on an eco-disaster of frightening consequences.'
'But the battle is far from over,' Sandecker reminded him. 'The United States alone produces only 58 percent of the oxygen it consumes, oxygen mostly created by plankton in the Pacific Ocean. In another twenty years, because of the increase in auto and air traffic, and the continuing devastation to the world's forests and wetlands, we'll begin to use up our oxygen faster than nature can replenish it.'
'And we still face the problem we're currently experiencing of chemicals poisoning the oceans,' Chapman followed the Admiral. 'We've had a bad scare, but the near tragedy with the red tides has demonstrated how critically close human and wildlife are to the last gasp of oxygen'
'Maybe from now on,' said Pitt, 'we won't take our air supply for granted.'
'Two weeks have passed since you took over Fort Foureau,' said Sandecker. 'What's your situation with the operation?'
'Pretty damned good, actually,' answered Giordino. 'After cutting off all incoming waste shipments by train, we've kept the solar reactor burning day and night. Another thirty-six hours should see all industrial contaminants that Massarde hid away in the underground storage vaults destroyed.'
'What have you done about the nuclear waste storage?' asked Chapman.
'After they had a brief rest from their ordeal at Tebezza,' Pitt replied, 'I asked the original French engineers who supervised the construction of the project to return. They agreed and have since assembled Malian work crews to continue excavating the storage chamber down to 1.5 kilometers.'
'Will that depth keep high-level waste safe from earth's organisms? Plutonium 239, for example, has a half-life of 24,000 years.'
Pitt smiled. 'Unknowingly, Massarde couldn't have selected a better place for the deep burial of waste. The geology is very stable in this part of the Sahara. The rock beds have been undisturbed for hundreds of millions of years. We're nowhere near crustal-plate boundaries, and far below existing groundwater. No one will have to worry about the waste affecting life ever again.'
'How do you intend to contain the waste after it's stored underground?'
'The safety criteria the French waste experts have created are stringent. Before burial in the deep rock it will be encased in concrete and then in a stainless-steel cylinder. This is surrounded by a layer of asphalt and a cast-iron enclosure. Finally, a backfill of concrete is poured around the container before it is embedded in the rock.'
Chapman grinned from ear to ear. 'My compliments, Dirk. You've put together a world-class waste disposal site.'
'Another bit of interesting news,' said Sandecker. 'Our government and that of Mongolia have shut down Massarde's hazardous waste projects in the Mojave and Gobi Deserts after surprise inspections by a team of international waste investigators found them to be substandard and unsafe.'
'The Australian outback installation was also closed,' Chapman added.
Pitt sat back and sighed. 'I'm happy to hear Massarde is out of the waste disposal business.'
'Speaking of the Scorpion,' said Giordino, 'how's his condition?'
'He was buried in Tripoli yesterday,' replied Sandecker. 'CIA agents reported that just before he died, he went insane and tried to make a meal of a doctor.'
'The perfect ending,' Giordino muttered sardonically.
'By the way,' said Sandecker. 'The President sends his warmest regards and thanks. Says he's going to issue a special citation of merit for your achievement.'
Pitt and Giordino turned to each other and shrugged indifferently.
Sandecker chose to ignore the display of distaste. 'You might be interested in knowing that for the first time in two decades, our State Department is working closely with the new Malian parliament. Much of the improved relations were due to you turning all profits from the project over to the government to aid their social programs.'
'It seemed the proper thing to do since we couldn't profit by it,' said Pitt benevolently.
'Any chance of a coup by the army?' inquired Gunn.
'Without Kazim, the inner core of his officers fell apart. To a man they crawled on their knees and swore undying allegiance to the leaders of the new government.'
'It's been almost a month since any of us have seen your ugly faces in person,' Sandecker smiled. 'Your job is finished in the Sahara. When can I expect you back in Washington?'
'Even the turmoil and mess of the nation's capital would look good after this place,' muttered Giordino.
'A week's vacation would be nice,' Pitt answered seriously. 'I have to ship something home and take care of some personal business. And then there's a little historical project I'd like to investigate here in the desert.'
'The Texas?'
'How did you know?'
'St. Julien Perlmutter whispered in my ear.'
'I'd be grateful for a favor, Admiral.'
Sandecker made an act of shrugging condescendingly. 'I guess I owe you a little free time.'
'Please arrange for Julien to fly to Mali as quickly as possible.'
'With Julien weighing in at 180 kilograms,' Sandecker looked at Pitt roguishly, 'you'll never get him on a camel.'
'Much less induce him to trek over blistering sand under a blazing sun,' Gunn joined in.
'If I'm right,' said Pitt, staring through the monitor at them in amusement, 'all I'll need to get Julien to walk twenty paces across desert terrain is a bottle of chilled Chardonnay.'
'Before I forget,' Sandecker spoke up, 'the Aussies were overjoyed at your discovery of Kitty Mannock and her aircraft. You and Giordino are national heroes according to the Sydney papers.'
'Do they have plans for a recovery?'
'A wealthy rancher from her home town has agreed to fund the operation. He plans to restore the plane and hang it in a museum in Melbourne. A recovery team should be at the location you provided by tomorrow.'
'And Kitty?'
'A national holiday when her body is returned. I was told by the Australian ambassador that contributions are pouring in from all over the country for a memorial over her proposed grave site.'
'Our country should contribute too, especially the South.'
Curious, Sandecker asked, 'What is our connection with her?'
'She's going to lead us to the Texas, ' answered Pitt matter-of-factly.
Sandecker exchanged questioning looks with the NUMA men around the table. Then he refaced Pitt's image in the monitor and said, 'We'd all be interested in knowing how a woman who's been dead for sixty-five years can pull off that little trick.'
'I found Kitty's logbook in the wreckage,' Pitt replied slowly. 'She describes her discovery of a ship before she died, an iron ship buried in the desert.'
