He hesitated before entering the aircraft, turned, and gazed out over the ugly vastness of sand and rock. From his elevated position he could clearly see the Niger River, little more than a kilometer to the west.
Where were they now? What was their situation?
He tore himself from the sight and entered the cabin, the air-conditioned air striking his sweating body like a breaking wave. His eyes were smarting as the aircraft lifted off the runway past the flaming jet fighters.
Colonel Levant sat in the seat next to Gunn and studied the sorrowful expression. He searched Gunn's eyes for understanding, but found none. "You don't seem happy to be getting out of this mess."
Gunn stared out the window. "Just thinking of the men I left behind."
"Pitt and Giordino, they were good friends?"
"For many years."
"Why didn't they come with you?" asked Levant.
"They had a job to finish."
Levant shook his head, uncomprehending. "They are either very brave men or very stupid."
"Not stupid," said Gunn. "Not stupid at all." "They will surely end up in hell." "You don't know them." Only then did Gunn force a grin. "If anyone can enter hell and walk out again carrying a glass of tequila over ice," he said with renewed confidence, "it's Dirk Pitt."
Six elite soldiers of General Kazim's personal bodyguard force snapped to attention as Massarde stepped from his launch to the dock. A Major stepped forward and saluted. "Monsieur Massarde?"
"What is it?"
"General Kazim has asked that I escort you to him immediately."
"Did he know my presence is required at Fort Foureau and I do not wish to have my schedule interrupted?"
Politely the Major bowed. "I believe his request for a meeting with you is quite urgent."
Massarde gave a Gallic shrug of annoyance and motioned for the Major to lead. "After you."
The Major nodded and gave a curt order to a sergeant. Then he walked over the worn and bleached dock planking toward a large warehouse that bordered the dock. Massarde duly followed in the Major's footsteps, surrounded by the security guard.
"Please, this way," the Major said, gesturing around the corner of the warehouse while stepping into a small side alley.
There, under heavy security by armed guards, stood a Mercedes-Benz truck and trailer that was General Kazim's private mobile command and living quarters. Massarde was ushered up steps and through a door that immediately closed behind him.
"General Kazim is in his office," said the Major, opening another door and standing aside. The interior of the office felt like an Arctic ice floe after the heat outside. Kazim must have kept the air conditioning running at full blast, Massarde surmised. Curtains were drawn over bulletproof windows and he stood motionless for a moment waiting for his eyes to adjust after the bright sunlight.
"Come in, Yves, sit down," Kazim called from a desk as he replaced the receiver from one of four telephones.
Massarde smiled and remained standing. "Why so many guards? Do you expect an assassination?"
Kazim smiled back. "In light of the events of the past few hours, extra security seems a valid precaution."
"Have you found my helicopter?" Massarde asked directly.
"Not yet."
"How can you lose a helicopter in the desert? It only had enough fuel for half an hour's flight."
"It appears the two Americans you allowed to escape-"
"My houseboat is not equipped to contain prisoners," Massarde snapped. "You should have taken them off my hands when you had the chance."
Kazim stared directly at him. "Be that as it may, my friend, mistakes were made. It appears that after the NUMA agents stole your helicopter, they flew to Bourem where I have reason to believe they sank it in the river, walked to the village, and then stole my car."
"Your old Voisin?" Massarde pronounced it Vahsaan.
"Yes," Kazim acknowledged through taut lips. "The American scum made off with my rare, classic car."
"And you haven't found it or apprehended them yet?"
"No."
Massarde finally sat down, anger at losing his aircraft mixed with delight over the theft of Kazim's precious automobile. "What of their rendezvous with a helicopter south of Gao?"
"Much to my regret, I fell for their lie. The force I positioned in ambush 20 kilometers to the south waited in vain, and my radar field units detected no sign of aircraft. They came instead to the Gao airport in a commercial airliner."
"Why weren't you alerted?"
"It did not appear to be a security matter," Kazim answered. "Only an hour before sunrise, Air Afrique officials in Gao were notified that one of their aircraft was making an unscheduled landing so a group of tourists could visit the city and take a short cruise on the river."
"The airline officials believed it?" asked Massarde incredulously.
"And why not. They routinely asked for confirmation from company headquarters in Algiers and received it."
"Then what happened?"
"According to the airport controller and the ground crew, the aircraft, flying the markings of Air Afrique, supplied the proper identification on approach. But after it set down and taxied to the terminal, an armed force along with a weapons vehicle shot from the plane's interior and gunned down the security guards on the military side of the field before they could resist. Then the weapons vehicle destroyed an entire squadron of eight of my jet fighters."
"Yes, the explosions woke everyone on the houseboat," said Massarde. "We saw the smoke rise in the direction of the airport and thought a plane had crashed."
Kazim grunted. "Nothing that ordinary."
"Did the ground crew or controller identify the assault force?"
"The attackers wore unfamiliar uniforms with no badges or insignia."
"How many of your people were killed?"
"Fortunately, only two security guards. The rest of the base personnel, maintenance crew, and pilots were on leave for a religious festival."
Massarde's face grew serious. "This is no mere intrusion to find contamination. This sounds more like a raid by your rebel opposition. They're smarter and more powerful than you give them credit for."
Kazim waved his hand in a gesture of dismissal. "A few dissident Tuaregs fighting on camels with swords. Hardly what you'd call highly trained special forces with modern firepower."
"Maybe they've hired mercenaries."
"With what funds?" Kazim shook his head. "No, this was a well-conceived plan carried off by a professional force. The destruction of the fighters was purely to eliminate any means of counterattack or interception during their escape after picking up one of the NUMA agents."
Massarde gave Kazim a bitter look. "Forgot to tell me about that little item, didn't you?"
"The ground crewmen reported that the leader of the attackers called for a man named Gunn, who appeared out of the desert where he'd been hiding. After Gunn boarded the aircraft, it took off on a northwesterly course and flew toward Algeria."
"Sounds like the plot for a second-rate motion picture."
"Do not be facetious, Yves." Kazim's tone was smooth but with a sharp edge. "The evidence points toward a conspiracy that goes far beyond a search for oil. I strongly believe both our interests are threatened by outside forces."
Massarde was hesitant to completely buy Kazim's theory. Their minimal trust was built on respect for each other's shrewd mind and a healthy fear of their respective powers. Massarde was very leery of the game that Kazim was playing. A game that could only end with the General on the receiving end. He looked into the eyes of a jackal while Kazim gazed into the eyes of a fox.