Treasure (Dirk Pitt 9)

"Some observation post," grumbled Giordino- "In the dark and rain and sleet, we'd be lucky to see our own shoelaces."

"CozY and safe and out of harm's way," Pitt said pontifically. "We may light a fire in the stove and have ourselves a picnic."

"You do that," Hollis said with some satisfaction. He looked around at the assembled men. "Well, gentlemen, I won't bore you with a gung ho pep talk. Let's just do our jobs and save some lives."

"And will just one for the Gipper," Giordino muttered. "What did you say?"

"Al was saying what an honor it was to be part of an elite fighting force," said Pitt.

Hollis gave Giordino a stare that would cut glass. "Special Operations Forces do not give out honorary memberships. You civilians will stay back out of the way." Hollis turned to Dillenger. "If any of these NUMA people attempt to set foot on the ship before I give permission, shoot them. That's an order."

"A pleasure," Dillenger grinned sharkishly.

Giordino shrugged. "They certainily know how to vent wrath around here."

Pitt did not share Giordino's caustic mood. He understood perfectly Hollis's position. His men were professional, a team. He gazed around at them, big, quiet men, ranged in a mugh circle around the model. None was over twenty-five.

As he stared into their faces he couldn't help wondering which ones were going to die in a few short hours.

"How much longer?" Machado asked Ammar as he sprawled on Captain Collins's settee.

With no ship's power, the Captain's cabin was dimly lit by four flashlights strategically hung from the ceiling. Ammar shrugged indifferently while he read from the Koran. "You spend more time in the communications room than I do. You tell me."

Machado made a spitting gesture at the deck. "I am sick of waiting around like a pregnant duck. I say shoot the lot of them and get the hell away from this barren purgatory.

Ammar looked at his peer in the business of murder. Machado was sloppy in his habits. His hair was oily and his fingernails wedged with dirt.

One whiff at two paces was enough to recognize he seldom bathed. Ammar respected Machado as a dangerous threat, but beyond that there was only disgust.

Machado rolled off the settee to his feet and restlessly roamed the cabin before settling in a chair. "We should have received instructions twenty-four hours ago," he said. "Topiltzin is not one to hesitate."

"Neither is Akhmad Yazid," said Ammar while keeping his eyes focused on the Koran. "He and Allah will provide."

"Provide what? Helicopters, a ship, a submarine, before we're discovered? You know the answer, my Egyptian friend, yet you sit like your Sphinx."

Ammar turned a page without looking up. "Tomorrow at this time you and your men will be safely back in Mexico."

"What guarantee can you give we won't all be sacrificed for the good of the cause?"

"Yazid and Topiltzin cannot risk our capture by international commando forces," Ammar said wearily, "for fear we might talk under torture.

Their blossoming empires would be chipped to pieces if one of us revealed their involvement. Trust me, arrangements have been made for our escape. You must be patient."

"What arrangements?"

"You'll learn that part of the plan as soon as instructions arrive concerning the fate of our hostages."

The deep-dyed falsehood was beginning to fray at the edges. Machado might see the light at any time. As long as one of Ammar's men operated the ship's commu

nications network, no signals were received while the radio was set on the wrong frequency. Yazid, and probably Topiltzin too, Ammar thought, must be sweating if they thought he had ignored the original plan and murdered everyone on board, instead of keeping them alive for propaganda purposes.

"Why not act on our own, lock them all below, sink the ship and be done with it?" Machado's voice came thick with exasperation.

"Killing the entire British crew, the American Senator and other non-Mexican or Egyptian nationals would not be wise. You may enjoy the excitement and constant intrigue of being the object of an international manhunt, Captain. Me, I'd prefer to live out my life in comfortable convenience."

"Stupid to leave witnesses."

The fool had no idea how right he was, Ammar thought. He sighed and laid down the Koran. "Your only concern is President De Lorenzo. Mine is President Hasan and Hala Kamil. Our relationship ends there."