Yaeger nodded. "I phoned the UN Headquarters as soon as you radioed your time of arrival. Secretary General Kamil has rearranged her schedule to fit us in. Her aide was surprised she'd do that for you."
Sandecker smiled. "We go back a ways."
"She'll meet with us at ten-thirty."
The Admiral glanced at his watch. "An hour and a half. Time for a cup of coffee and some breakfast."
"Sounds good," said Chapman between yawns. "I'm half starved."
Yaeger took the parkway from the airport and turned off on Coney Island Avenue where he found a delicatessen. They settled into a booth and ordered from a waitress who openly stared at the towering figure of Dr. Chapman.
"What'll it be, gents?"
"Lox, cream cheese, and a bagel," ordered Sandecker.
Chapman opted for a pastrami and salami omelet while Yaeger simply had a Danish. They were silent within their own thoughts until the waitress brought their coffee. Sandecker stirred an ice cube in his cup to cool the brew and then settled back against the booth's backrest.
"What do your electronic babies have to say about the red tides?" he asked Yaeger.
"The projections look pretty grim," the computer expert said, toying with a fork. "I've run a continuous update of the increasing dimensions from satellite photos. The growth rate boggles the mind. It's like the old adage of starting with a penny and doubling it every day until you're a billionaire by the end of the month. The red tide off West Africa is spreading and doubling its size every four days. At four o'clock this morning it covered an area measuring 40,000 square kilometers."
"Or 100,000 square miles," Sandecker translated into the old system of measurement.
"At that rate it will cover the entire South Atlantic in three to four weeks," figured Chapman.
"Do you have a clue to the cause?" asked Yaeger.
"Only that it's probably an organometallic that's promoting a mutation of the dinoflagellates that make up the core of the red tide."
"Organometallic?"
"A combination of a metal and an organic substance," Chapman explained.
"Any particular compound that stands out?"
"Not yet. We identified dozens of contaminants, but none of them appear responsible. All we can guess at the moment is that a metallic element somehow got mixed with synthetic compounds or chemical by-products that were dumped in the Niger River."
"Might even be waste from exotic biotech research," suggested Yaeger.
"There are no exotic biotech experiments going on in West Africa," Sandecker said firmly.
"Somehow this unidentified crap acts as an exciter," Chapman continued, "almost like a hormone as it creates a mutant red tide with a staggering growth rate and an incredible degree of toxicity as well."
The conversation paused as the waitress served their breakfast off a tray. She left and returned with a pot of coffee and refilled their cups.
"Any chance we're looking at a bacterial reaction to a raw sewage spill?" asked Yaeger as he gazed sadly at a Danish that looked as if it had been stepped on by a greasy boot.
"Sewage can act as a nutrient for algae just as manure does with agricultural vegetation on land," said Chapman. "But not in this case. What we're dealing with is an ecological disaster that goes far beyond anything human waste can produce."
Sandecker knifed the cream cheese on his bagel and laid on the salmon. "So while we sit here and stuff our mouths, a red tide is forming that will make the '91 Iraqi oil spill look like a puddle in the Kansas prairie."
"And we can do nothing to stop it," admitted Chapman. "Without the proper analysis of water samples, I can only theorize on the chemical compound. Until Rudi Gunn finds the needle in the haystack and who or what put it there, our hands are tied."
"What's the latest word?" Yaeger asked.
"Word on what?" Sandecker mumbled between bites.
"Our three friends on the Niger," Yaeger answered, irritated at Sandecker's seeming indifference. "Transmission of their data telemetry suddenly stopped yesterday."