Sahara (Dirk Pitt 11)

"You're needlessly endangering lives," murmured Yerli.

"Not if I take out insurance."

Yerli looked at Hopper, not comprehending. "Insurance?"

"Actually a press conference. Before we leave, I'll call in every foreign correspondent and news service in Cairo and explain our project with special emphasis on Mali. Of course, I'll make mention of the potential dangers involved. Then, in light of the international publicity surrounding our presence in his country, General Kazim will think twice before threatening the lives of scientists-on a well-publicized mission of mercy."

Yerli sighed heavily. "For your sakes, I hope so. I truly hope so."

Eva came over and sat down by the Turk. "It will be all right," she insisted quietly. "No harm will come to us."

"Nothing I can say will talk you out of it? You must go then?"

"There are thousands who might die if we don't," said Hopper firmly.

Yerli stared sadly at them, then bowed his head in silent acceptance, his face suddenly pale.

"Then may Allah protect you, because if he doesn't, you will surely die."

Pitt was standing in the lobby of the Nile Hilton when Eva stepped from the elevator. He was dressed in a tan poplin suit with single-breasted jacket and pleated pants. The shirt was a light shade of blue with a wide Botticelli tie of deep blue silk with black and gold paisleys.

He stood casual and loose, his hands clasped behind his back, head tilted slightly to one side, as he studied a beautiful, young, raven-haired Egyptian woman in a tightfitting gold sequin dress. She was sweeping across the lobby in a blaze of glitter, hooked arm in arm with an elderly man easily three times her age. She jabbered every step across the carpet. Her ample bottom swung back and forth like a melon on a pendulum.

There was nothing in Pitt's expression to suggest lust. He stared at the performance with a detached sort of curiosity. Eva walked up behind him and placed her hand on his elbow. "You like her?" she asked, smiling.

Pitt turned and looked down at her through the greenest eyes she had ever seen. His lips raised in a slight crooked grin that Eva found devastating. "She does make a statement."

"Is she your type?"

"No, I prefer quiet, intelligent women."

His voice was deep with a mellow quality, she thought. She smelled a faint aroma of men's cologne, not the pungent variety brewed by French perfume companies for fashion designers' private labels, but a more masculine scent. "I hope I can take that as a compliment."

"You may."

She flushed, and her eyes unconsciously lowered. "I have an early-morning flight tomorrow, so I should get to bed early." God, this is awful, she thought. I'm acting like a girl meeting her date for a freshman prom.

"A great pity. I'd planned to stay out all night and show you every den of iniquity and sin pot in Cairo. All the exotic spots unfrequented by tourists."

"Are you serious?"

Pitt laughed. "Not really. Actually, I thought it wise if we dine in your hotel and stay off the streets. Your friends might have it in their heads to try again."

She looked around the crowded lobby. "The hotel is packed. We'll be lucky to get a table."

"I have reservations," Pitt said, taking her by the hand and leading her into the elevator that rose to the posh restaurant on the top floor of the hotel.

Like most women, Eva liked a take-charge man. She also liked the way he kept his light but firm grip on her hand on the ride up to the restaurant.

The maitre d' showed them to a table beside a window with a spectacular view of Cairo and the Nile. A universe of lights sparkled in the evening haze. The bridges over the river were jammed with honking autos that fanned out on the streets and mingled with the horse-drawn delivery wagons and tourist carriages.

"Unless you prefer a cocktail," said Pitt, "I suggest that we stay with wine."

Eva nodded and flashed a satisfied smile. "Fine by me. Why don't you order the courses as well?"

"I love an adventurous soul," he smiled. He studied the wine list briefly. "We'll