"So long, big guy. Don't forget me."
Pitt nodded and said simply, "I couldn't if I tried."
Shortly after Shannon and Miles left in their rented car for the airport in San Diego, a NUMA helicopter dropped out of the sun and touched down on the deck of the Alhambra. The pilot left the engine idling as he jumped down from the cargo hatch. He looked around a moment and then, recognizing Sandecker, approached him.
"Good morning, Admiral. Ready to leave, or should 1 shut down the engine?"
"Keep it running," answered Sandecker. "What's the status of my NUMA passenger jet?"
"Waiting on the ground at the Yuma Marine Corps Air Station to fly you and the others back to Washington."
"Okay, we're set to board." Sandecker turned to Pitt. "So, you're going on sick leave?"
"Loren and I thought we'd join a Classic Car Club of America tour through Arizona."
"I'll expect you in one week." He turned to Loren and gave her a brief kiss on the cheek. "You're a member of Congress. Don't take any crap from him and see that he gets back in one piece, fit for work."
Loren smiled. "Don't worry, Admiral. My constituents want me back on the job infighting shape too."
"What about me?" said Giordino. "Don't I get time off to recuperate?"
"You can sit behind a desk just as easily in a wheelchair." Then Sandecker smiled fiendishly. "Now, Rudi, he's a different case. I think I'll send him to Bermuda for a month."
"Whatta guy," said Gunn, trying desperately to keep a straight face.
It was a charade. Pitt and Giordino were like sons to Sandecker. Nothing went on between them that wasn't marked with a high degree of respect. The admiral knew with dead certainty that as soon as they were sound and able, they'd be in his office pressuring him for an ocean project to direct.
Two dockhands lifted Giordino into the helicopter. One seat had to be removed to accommodate his outstretched legs.
Pitt leaned in the doorway and tweaked one of the toes that protruded from the cast. "Try not to lose this helicopter like all the others."
"No big deal," Giordino came back. "I get one of these things every time I buy ten gallons of gas."
Gunn placed his hand on Pitt's shoulder. "It's been fun," he said lightly. "We must do it again sometime."
Pitt made a horrified face. "Not on your life."
Sandecker gave Pitt a light hug. "You rest up and take it easy," he said softly so the others couldn't hear above the beat of the rotor blades. "I'll see you when I see you."
"I'll make it soon."
Loren and Pitt stood on the deck of the ferryboat and waved until the helicopter turned northeast over the waters of the Gulf. He turned to her. "Well, that just leaves us."
She smiled teasingly. "I'm starved. Why don't we head into Mexicali and find us a good Mexican restaurant?"
"Now that you've broached the subject, I have a sudden craving for huevos rancheros."
"I guess I'll have to do the driving."
Pitt lifted his hand. "I still have one good arm."
Loren wouldn't heir of it. Pitt stood on the dock and guided her as she competently drove the big Pierce Arrow and its trailer up the ramp from the auto deck of the ferryboat onto the dock.
Pitt took one last, longing look at the walking beams of the old paddle steamer and wished he could have sailed it through the Panama Canal and up the Potomac River to Washington. But it was not meant to be. He gave a forlorn sigh and was slipping into the passenger seat when a car pulled up alongside. Curtis Starger climbed out.
He hailed them. "Glad I caught you before you left. Dave Gaskill said to make sure you got this."
He handed Pitt something wrapped in an Indian blanket. Unable to take it with both hands, he looked helplessly at Loren. She took the blanket and spread it open.
Four faces painted on clublike prayer sticks stared hack at them. "The sacred idols of the Montolos," Pitt said quietly. "Where did you find them?"
"We recovered them inside Joseph Zolar's private plane in Guaymas."
"I'd guessed the idols were in his dirty hands."
"They were positively identified as the missing Montolo effigies from a collectors data sheet we found with them," explained Starger.
"This will make the Montolos very happy."
Starger looked at him with a crooked smile. "I think we can trust you to deliver them."
Pitt chuckled and tilted his head toward the Travelodge. "They're not nearly as valuable as all the gold inside the trailer."
Starger threw Pitt a you-can't-fool-me look. "Very funny. All the golden artifacts are accounted for."
"I promise to drop the idols of in the Montolo village on our way to the border."
"Dave Gaskill and I never nourished a doubt."
"How are the Zolars?" Pitt asked.
"In jail with every charge from theft and illegal smuggling to murder hanging over their heads. You'll be happy to learn the judge denied them bail, dead certain they would flee the country.
"You people do nice work."
"Thanks to your help, Mr. Pitt. If the Customs Service can ever do you a favor, short of smuggling illegal goods into the country, of course, don't hesitate to give us a call."
"I'll remember that, thank you."
Billy Yuma was unsaddling his horse after making the daily rounds of his small herd. He paused to look over the rugged landscape of cactus, mesquite, and tamarisk scattered through the rock outcroppings making up his part of the Sonoran Desert. He saw a dust cloud approaching that slowly materialized into what looked to him to be a very old automobile pulling a trailer, both vehicles painted in the same shade of dark, almost black, blue.
His curiosity rose even higher when the car and trailer stopped in front of his house. He walked from the corral as the passenger door opened and Pitt stepped out.
"A warm sun to you, my friend," Yuma greeted him.
"And clear skies to you," Pitt replied.
Yuma shook Pitt's right hand vigorously. "I'm real glad to see you. They told me you died in the darkness."
"Almost, but not quite," said Pitt, nodding at the arm held by the sling. "I wanted to thank you for entering the mountain and saving the lives of my friends."
"Evil men are meant to die," said Yuma philosophically. "I'm happy I came in time."
Pitt handed Yuma the blanket-wrapped idols. "I've brought something for you and your tribe."
Yuma pulled back the top half of the blanket tenderly, as if peeking at a baby. He stared mutely for several moments into the faces of the four deities. Then tears brimmed in his eyes. "You have returned the soul of my people, our dreams, our religion. Now our children can be initiated and become men and women."
"I was told those who stole them experienced strange sounds like children wailing."
"They were crying to come home."
"I thought Indians never cried."
Yuma smiled as the joyous impact of what he held in his hands washed over him. "Don't you believe it. We just don't like to let anyone see us."
Pitt introduced Loren to Billy's wife, Polly, who insisted they stay for dinner, and would not take no for an answer. Loren let it slip that Pitt had a taste for huevos rancheros, so Polly made him enough to feed five ranch hands.
During the meal, Yuma's friends and family came to the house and reverently looked upon the cottonwood idols. The men shook Pitt's hand while the women presented small handcrafted gifts to Loren. It was a very moving scene and Loren wept unashamedly.
Pitt and Yuma saw in each other two men who were basically very much alike. Neither had any illusions left. Pitt smiled at him. "It is an honor to have you as a friend, Billy."