Sahara

danger.'

    'What looked obvious to me, seemed absurd to others,' she said quietly.

    'I feel better now that the debate and controversy are over and we can concentrate our efforts to stop this thing.'

    'The next problem we face is keeping it a secret. The story will most certainly go public within forty-eight hours.'

    'An invasion by an army of reporters is almost inevitable,' Sandecker nodded. 'Scientists aren't exactly noted for keeping a tight lip.'

    Hala stared out over the now empty auditorium. The spirit of cooperation was far above anything she'd seen in the General Assembly. Maybe there was hope after all for a world divided by so many ethnic cultures and languages.

    'What are your plans now?' she asked.

    Sandecker shrugged. 'Get Pitt and Giordino out of Mali.'

    'How long has it been since they were arrested at the solar waste project?'

    'Four days.'

    'Any word of their fate?'

    'None I'm afraid. Our intelligence is weak in that part of the world, and we have no idea where they were taken.'

    'If they've fallen into Kazim's hands I fear the worst.'

    Sandecker could not bring himself to accept Pitt and Giordino's loss. He changed the subject. 'Have investigators found any sign of foul play in the deaths of your World Health inspection team?'

    For a moment she did not answer. 'They're still probing through the wreckage of the plane,' she finally said. 'But preliminary reports say there is no evidence the crash was caused by a bomb. So far it's a mystery.'

    'There were no survivors?'

    'No, Dr. Hopper and his entire team were killed along with the flight crew.'

    'Hard to believe Kazim wasn't behind it.'

    'He is an evil man,' Hala said, her face somber and thoughtful. 'I too think he was responsible. Dr. Hopper must have discovered something about the plague that is sweeping Mali, something Kazim could not allow to be revealed, especially among foreign governments that provide him with aid.'

    'Hopefully, Pitt and Giordino will have the answers.'

    She looked at Sandecker, an expression of sympathy in her eyes. 'You must face the very real possibility that they are already dead, executed on Kazim's orders.'

    The weariness seemed to fall off Sandecker like a discarded overcoat as a grim smile touched his lips. 'No,' he said slowly, 'I'll never accept Pitt's death, not until I make a positive identification myself. He's come back from the dead on any number of occasions with uncanny regularity.'

    Hala took Sandecker's hand in hers. 'Let us pray that he can do it again.'

    Felix Verenne was waiting at the Gao airport when Ismail Yerli came down the boarding stairs. 'Welcome back to Mali,' he said, extending a hand. 'I hear you spent time here some years ago.'

    Yerli did not smile as he took the offered hand. 'Sorry for arriving late, but the Massarde Enterprises plane you sent to pick me up in Paris had mechanical problems.'

    'So I heard. I would have ordered another plane, but you had already departed on an Air Afrique Bight.'

    'I was under the impression Mr. Massarde wanted me here as soon as possible.'

    Verenne nodded. 'You were informed by Bordeaux as to your assignment?'

    'I'm well aware, of course, of the unfortunate investigations by the United Nations and the National Underwater and Marine Agency, but Bordeaux only insinuated that my job was to become chummy with General Kazim and prevent him from interfering with Mr. Massarde's operations.'

    'The idiot has blundered this whole contamination inspection thing. It's a wonder the world news media hasn't gotten wind of it.'

    'Are Hopper and his team dead?'

    'Might as well be. They're laboring as slaves in a secret gold mining operation of Mr. Massarde's in the deepest part of the Sahara.'

    'And the NUMA intruders?'

    'They were also captured and sent to the mines.'

    'Then you and Mr. Massarde have everything under control.'

    'The reason Mr. Massarde sent for you. To prevent any more fiascos by Kazim.'

    'Where do I go from here?' asked Yerli.

    'To Fort Foureau for instructions from Massarde himself. He'll arrange an introduction with Kazim, glorifying the horrifying little man with your intelligence accomplishments. Kazim has a fetish for spy novels. He'll leap at the opportunity to use your services, unknowing you will be reporting his every movement and action to Mr. Massarde.'

    'How far is Fort Foureau?'

    'A two-hour flight by helicopter. Come along, we'll pick up your luggage and be on our way.'

    Like the Japanese who conducted their business without buying products manufactured by the nations they hustled, Massarde only hired French engineers and construction workers as well as using French-manufactured equipment and transportation. The French-built Ecureuil helicopter was a mate to the one Pitt crashed in the Niger River. Verenne had the copilot collect Yerli's bags and deposit them on board.

    As he and the expressionless Turk settled in comfortable leather chairs, a steward served hors d'oeuvres and champagne.

    A bit fancy aren't we?' asked Yerli. 'Do you always throw out the red carpet for ordinary visitors?'

    'Mr. Massarde's orders,' replied Verenne stiffly. 'He abhors the American practice of offering soft drinks, beer, and nuts. He insists that as Frenchmen we demonstrate refined taste in keeping with French culture, regardless of the status of our visitors.'

    Yerli held up his glass of champagne. 'To Yves Massarde, may he never cease being generous.'

    'To our boss,' said Verenne. 'May he never stop his generosity to those who are loyal.'

    Yerli downed his glass with an indifferent shrug of his shoulders and held it out for a refill. 'Any feedback on your operations at Fort Foureau from environmentalist groups?'

    'Not really. They're in a bit of a quandary. They applaud our self-sufficient solar energy design, but they're scared to death of what burning toxic wastes will do to the desert air.'

    Yerli studied the bubbles in his champagne glass. 'You are certain the secret of Fort Foureau is still safe? What if European and American governments get wind of the real operation?'

    Verenne laughed. 'Are you joking? Most of the governments of the industrialized world are only too happy to go along with secretly getting rid of their hazardous garbage without public knowledge. Privately, bureaucratic officials and business executives of nuclear and chemical plants around the world have given us their blessing.'

    'They know?' Yerli asked in surprise.

    Verenne looked at him with a bemused smile. 'Who do you think are Massarde's clients?'

    After leaving the truck, Pitt and Giordino walked through the heat of the afternoon and under the cold of the night, wanting to travel as far as possible while they were still reasonably fresh. When they finally stopped and rested, it was the following dawn. By burrowing m the sand and covering their bodies during the heat of the day, they shielded themselves from the blazing sun and reduced their water loss. The gentle pressure from the sand also gave some relief to their tired muscles.

    They made 48 kilometers (30 miles) toward their goal the first trek. They actually walked further, meandering across the hard floor valleys between sand dunes. The second night they set out before sunset so Pitt could position the stake and set their course until the stars came out. By sunup the next morning the Trans-Saharan Track was another 42 kilometers closer. Before digging under their daily blanket of sand, they drained the last drops of water from the canister. From now on, until they found a new supply of water, their bodies would begin to wither and die.

    The third night of their trek, they had to cross a barrier of dunes that stretched out of sight to the right and left. The dunes, though menacing, were things of beauty. Their delicate, smooth surfaces were sculptured into