Sahara

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.'

    'The pilots have probably throttled back to conserve fuel.'

    'We're losing altitude. I'm sure of it.'

    Hopper reacted to the seriousness of her tone and sat up and tilted his head, listening to the engines. Then he leaned over his armrest and peered down the aisle toward the forward bulkhead of the passenger cabin. 'I believe you're right. The nose seems angled down slightly.'

    Eva nodded toward the cockpit. 'The pilots have always kept the door open during flight. It's closed now.'

    'Does appear odd, but I'm sure we're overreacting.' He threw off the blanket covering his large frame and stiffly rose to a standing position. 'However, it won't hurt to have a look.'

    Eva followed him up the aisle to the cockpit door. Hopper turned the knob and his face suddenly clouded with concern. 'The damn thing's locked.' He pounded on the door, but after a few moments there was no response. If anything, the aircraft's angle of descent increased. 'Something mighty queer is going on. You better wake the others.'

    Eva hurried back down the aisle and prodded the other members of the team out of their weary sleep. Grimes was the first to reach Hopper.

    'Why are we landing?' he asked Hopper.

    'I haven't the vaguest idea. The pilots aren't of a mind to communicate.'

    'Perhaps they're making an emergency landing.'

    'If they are, they're keeping it to themselves.'

    Eva leaned over a seat and peered into the darkness through a window. A small cluster of dim, yellow lights pierced the night several kilometers beyond the nose of the aircraft. 'Lights ahead,' she announced.

    'We could kick the door in,' Grimes suggested.

    'For what purpose?' demanded Hopper. 'If the pilots mean to land, there's no way we can stop them. None of us can take control of a jetliner.'

    'Then there is little we can do but return to our seats and fasten our seatbelts,' said Eva.

    The words had not left her mouth when the landing lights flashed on, illuminating a faceless desert. The landing gear dropped and the pilot made a tight bank as he lined up on the as yet unseen airfield. By the time they had all strapped themselves in, the tires thumped into hard-packed sand and the engines roared as the pilot engaged the air brakes. The soft surface of the unpaved runway produced enough drag to slow the plane down without the pilots standing on the brakes. The plane taxied toward a row of floodlights that stood beside the airstrip and rolled to a halt.

    'I wonder where this is?' murmured Eva.

    'We'll find out soon enough,' said Hopper, moving toward the cockpit door, determined this time to kick it in. But it swung open before he reached it, and the pilot stepped into the cabin. 'What is the meaning of this stopover?' Hopper demanded. 'Is there a mechanical problem?'

    'This is where you get off,' the pilot said slowly.

    'What are you talking about? You're supposed to fly us to Cairo.'

    'My orders are to set you down at Tebezza.'

    'This is a UN chartered aircraft. You were hired to take us to whatever destination we require, and Tebezza, or whatever you call it, is not one of them.'

    'Consider it an unscheduled stop,' the pilot said doggedly.

    'You simply can't throw us out in the middle of the desert. How do we get out of here and continue to Cairo?'

    'Arrangements have been made.'

    'What about our equipment?'

    'It will be guarded.'

    'Our samples must get to the World Health laboratory in Paris as soon as possible.'

    'That is not my concern. Now if you will please collect your personal items and disembark.'

    'We'll do no such thing,' Hopper said indignantly.

    The pilot brushed past Hopper and walked swiftly down the aisle to the rear exit. He undogged the shaft locks and pushed a large switch. The hydraulic pumps whirred as the aft floor slowly dropped and became a stairway leading to the ground. Then the pilot raised a large-caliber revolver he'd been holding behind his back and waved it at the startled scientists.

    'Get off the aircraft, now!' he ordered gruffly.

    Hopper moved until he was standing almost toe-to-toe with the pilot, completely ignoring the gun barrel touching his stomach. 'Who are you? Why are you doing this?'