Hopper stared at the terminal. It was little more than a metal shed with windows. "Oh very well, if that's the best you can do," he said dryly, refusing to kowtow.
They walked straight to the terminal and into a small, oven-hot office that was bare except for a shabby, wooden table and two chairs. Behind the table an officer, who was senior to Batutta and looked like he was going through a very unhappy phase, sat and studied Hopper for a moment with undisguised contempt.
"I am Colonel Nouhoum Mansa. May I see your passport please?"
Hopper had come prepared and handed over the six passports he'd collected from his team. Mansa flipped through the pages without interest, noting only the nationalities. Finally he asked, "Why did you come to Mali?"
Hopper had traveled the world and had little use for ridiculous formality. "I believe you know the purpose of our visit."
"You will answer the question."
"We're members of the United Nations World Health Organization on a mission to study reports of toxic illness among your people."
"Where is no such illness among my people," the Colonel said firmly.
"Then you won't mind if we analyze water supplies and take air samples in a random selection of the towns and cities along the Niger."
"We do not take kindly to foreigners seeking out deficiencies in our country."
Hopper was not about to back down in the face of stupid authority. "We're here to save lives. I thought General Kazim understood that."
Mansa tensed. The fact that Hopper threw out Kazim's name instead of President Tahir caught him off guard. "General Kazim . . . he's given orders authorizing your visit?"
"Why don't you ring him up and find out?" It was a bluff, but Hopper had nothing to lose.
Colonel Mansa rose and walked to the door. "Wait here," he ordered brusquely.
"Please tell the General," said Hopper, "that his neighboring countries have invited United Nations scientists to help them locate the source of contamination, and if he refuses my team's entry into Mali, he will be scorned and lose face among the nations of the world."
Mansa made no reply and left the stifling room.
While he waited, Hopper gave Captain Batutta his best intimidating stare. Batutta locked eyes for a few moments, but then turned away and began pacing the room.
After about five minutes, Mansa returned and sat down at the desk. Without a word, he precisely stamped each passport and then passed them to Hopper. "You have been allowed to enter Mali to conduct your research. But please remember, Doctor, you and your people are guests here. No more. If you make unkind statements or take part in any action detrimental to security, you will be deported."
"Thank you, Colonel. And please thank General Kazim for his kind permission."
"You will be accompanied by Captain Batutta and ten of his men for your protection."
"I'm honored to have a bodyguard."
"You will also report your findings directly to me. I expect your full cooperation in this matter-"
"How will I report from the hinterland?"
"The Captain's unit will carry the necessary communications equipment."
"We should get along handsomely," Hopper said loftily to Batutta. He turned back to Mansa. "My team and I will need a car, preferably a four-wheel-drive, for personnel and two lorries to transport our laboratory gear."
Colonel Mansa's face reddened. "I will arrange for military vehicles."
Hopper was well aware that it was important for the Colonel to save face and have the last word. "Thank you, Colonel Mansa. You are a generous and honorable man. General Kazim must be very proud to have a true warrior of the desert at his side."
Mansa leaned back, a growing look of triumph and satisfaction in his eyes. "Yes, the General has often expressed gratitude for my loyalty and service."
The interview was over, and Hopper returned to the aircraft and directed the unloading of the cargo. Mansa watched from the window of the terminal office, a faint smile on his lips.
"Shall I restrict their investigation to unclassified areas?" asked Batutta.