Clive Cussler - Sahara

"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.

The tents making up Kazim's former field headquarters bore desert camouflage markings but were shaped more like stage settings from a production of Kismet. Colonel Hargrove was in the main tent leaning over a table, studying Kazim's military communication codes when they walked inside. A stub of a cigar was pushed between his lips.

Without greeting, he asked, "Do either of you by chance know what Zateb Kazim looks like?"

"We've met him," answered Pitt.

"Could you identify him?"

"Probably."

Hargrove straightened and moved through the tent's opening. "Out here." He led them across a short stretch of level ground to a bullet-riddled car. He removed the cigar and spit in the sand. "Recognize any of these clowns?"

Pitt leaned into the interior of the car. Already hordes of flies were swarming on the blood-coated bodies. He glanced at Giordino who was peering in from the other side. Giordino simply nodded.

Pitt turned to Hargrove. "The one in the middle is the late General Zateb Kazim."

"You're sure," Hargrove demanded.

"Positive," Pitt said firmly.

"And the others must be high-ranking members of his staff," added Giordino.

"Congratulations, Colonel. Now all you have to do is inform the Malian government that you have the General in your custody and are holding him as hostage to ensure the safe return of your force to Mauritania."

Hargrove stared at Pitt. "But the man is a corpse."

"So who's to know? Certainly not his subordinates in the Malian security forces."

Hargrove dropped his cigar and ground it into the sand. He looked at the several hundred survivors of Kazim's assault force that were now massed in a large circle and guarded by his American Rangers. "I see no reason why it won't work. I'll have my intelligence officer open communications while we wind up the evacuations."

"Since you're no longer in a big rush to dash out of here, there is one other thing."

"That is?" asked Hargrove.

"A favor."

"What exactly is it I can do for you?"

Pitt smiled down at Hargrove who was half a head shorter. "One of your helicopters, Colonel. I'd like to borrow it and several of your best men."

After he communicated with high-level Malian officials and threw them the lie he was holding Kazim hostage, Hargrove was convinced no military action would be taken against his evacuating force. He was no longer filled with trepidation and was highly relieved now that the pressure was off the final stage of his rescue mission. He was also quite amused when the puppet president of Mali begged him to execute General Kazim.

But Hargrove had no intention of loaning his personal Sikorsky H-76 Eagle helicopter, its crew, and six of his Rangers to a pair of smart-ass bureaucrats, certainly not in a combat area. His only concession to Pitt's request was to pass it along to Special Operations Command in Florida over Kazim's captured communications systems, positive his superiors would have a good laugh out of it.

He was dumbstruck when the request came back almost immediately. Not only was it granted, but it was approved by presidential order.

Hargrove said acidly to Pitt, "You must have friends in high places."

"I'm not out for a joyride," Pitt replied, failing to hide the satisfaction in his voice. "You weren't told, but there was far more at stake here than a covert rescue mission."

"Probably just as well," Hargrove sighed heavily. "How long do you require my men and chopper?"

"Two hours."

"And then?"

"If all goes according to my plan, it will be returned to you, along with your men and crew, in pristine condition."

"And you and Giordino?"

"We remain behind."

"I won't bother asking why," said Hargrove, shaking his head. "This whole operation has been a mystery to me."

"Ever heard of a military operation that wasn't?" said Pitt seriously. "What you accomplished here today has a ripple effect beyond anything you can imagine"

Hargrove's eyebrows lifted questioningly. "Think I'll ever know what it is you're talking about?"

"To use the time-honored method of finding out government secrets," Pitt said slyly, "you read about them in tomorrow's newspaper."

After a 20-kilometer detour to an abandoned village where they took contaminated water samples from a well in the marketplace, Pitt directed the Eagle's pilot to fly a leisurely scouting pattern around the Fort Foureau hazardous waste project.

"Let the security guards get a good look at your armament," Pitt said to the pilot. "But stay alert for ground fire."

"Massarde's executive helicopter is sitting on the landing pad with its rotor blades turning," observed Giordino. "He must be planning a hasty departure."

"With Kazim dead, he can't have received word yet on the final outcome of the fight," said Pitt, "but he's canny enough to know something went wrong."

"A shame we have to cancel his flight," Giordino said fiendishly.

"No sign of ground fire, sir," the pilot notified Pitt.

"Okay, let us off on the landing pad,"'

"You don't want us to go in with you?" asked a rugged looking sergeant,

"Now that the security guards are properly impressed, Al and I can take it from here. Hang around the area as a show of force for about thirty minutes to intimidate anyone dumb enough to resist. And stop that helicopter on the ground if it attempts to lift off. Then at my signal head back to Colonel Hargrove's field command."

"You have a welcoming committee," said the pilot, pointing to the landing pad.

"My, my," said Giordino, squinting in the bright sunlight. "It looks like our old pal, Captain Brunone."

"And a squad of his goons," Pitt added. He tapped the pilot on the shoulder. "Keep your firepower aimed at them until we wave you off."

The pilot hovered half a meter from the ground, keeping his rocket launchers and Chain gun pointed at the waiting security guards. Giordino dropped lightly to the concrete pad and then helped Pitt step down to favor his leg. They walked over to Brunone who stiffened as he recognized them and stared in astonishment.

"I did not expect to see you two again," said Brunone.

"I'll bet you didn't," muttered Giordino nastily.

Pitt stared hard at Brunone, reading an expression in the Captain's eyes that Giordino missed, an expression of relief instead of anger or fear. "You almost look happy to see us."

"I am. I was told no one ever escaped from Tebezza."

"Did you send the project engineers and their wives and children there?"

Brunone shook his head solemnly. "No, that travesty occurred a week before I arrived."

"But you knew about their imprisonment."

"I only heard rumors. I tried to investigate the matter, but Mr. Massarde pulled a wall of secrecy around it. Anyone connected with the crime has vanished from the project."

"He probably slit their throats to shut them up," said Giordino.

"You don't much like Massarde, do you?" said Pitt.

"The man is a pig and a thief," Brunone spat. "I could tell you things about this project--"