Sahara (Dirk Pitt 11)

"Do you have their location?" Levant asked Sandecker.

"I do," answered Sandecker. "One is attempting to smuggle himself on board a plane at the Gao airport. The other two are on a houseboat in the Niger River belonging to Yves Massarde."

Levant's eyes widened at hearing the name. "Ah yes, the Scorpion."

"You know him?" asked Bock.

"Only by reputation. Yves Massarde is an international entrepreneur who amassed a fortune estimated to be around two billion American dollars. He's called the Scorpion because a number of his competitors and business partners mysteriously disappeared, leaving him the sole proprietor of several large and very profitable corporations. He's considered quite ruthless, not to mention an embarrassment to the French government. Your friends couldn't have picked worse company."

"Does he carry out criminal activities?" asked Sandecker.

"Most definitely, but he leaves no evidence that would convict him in a court of law. Friends in Interpol tell me they have a file on him a meter thick."

"Of all the people in the Sahara," murmured Bock, "how did your people run into him?"

"If you knew Dirk Pitt and Al Giordino," Sandecker shrugged wearily, "you'd understand."

"I'm still at a loss why Secretary General Kamil approved an operation to smuggle your NUMA people out of Mali," said Bock. "Missions by our UN Critical Response and Tactical Team are usually undertaken in deep secrecy during times of international crisis. I fail to see why saving the lives of three NUMA researchers is so crucial."

Sandecker looked Bock straight in the eye. "Believe me, General, you'll never have a mission more important than this one. The scientific data these men have gathered in West Africa must be brought to our labs in Washington at the first opportunity. Our government, for stupid reasons known only to God, refuses to become involved. Hala Kamil, thankfully, saw the urgency of the situation and sanctioned your mission."

"May I ask what sort of data?" Levant queried Sandecker.

The Admiral shook his head. "I can't tell you."

"Is this a classified matter concerning only the United States?"

"No, it concerns every man, woman, and child who walks the earth."

Bock and Levant exchanged quizzical glances.

After a moment Bock turned back to Sandecker. "You stated that your men have split up. This factor makes a successful operation extremely difficult. We run a high risk by dividing our force."

"Are you telling me you can't get all my men out?" asked Sandecker incredulously.

"What General Bock is saying," explained Levant, "is that we double the risk by attempting two missions simultaneously. The element of surprise is cut in half. As an example, we stand a far greater chance of success by concentrating our force on removing the two men off Massarde's houseboat because we don't expect it to be secured by heavily armed military guards. And, we can determine the exact location. The airport is a different story. We have no idea where your man. . ."

"Rudi Gunn," Sandecker offered. "His name is Rudi Gunn."

"Where Gunn is hiding," Levant continued. "Our team would have to waste precious time searching him out. Also, the field is used by the Malian air force as well as commercial airliners. Military security runs around the clock. Anyone attempting to escape the country from the Gao airport would have to be extraordinarily fortunate to make it out in one piece."

"You want me to make a choice?"

"To plan for unforeseen difficulties," said Levant, "we must designate which rescue mission is a top priority and which one is our secondary."

Bock looked at Sandecker. "It's your call, Admiral."

Sandecker looked down at the map of Mali spread out across the table, focusing his eyes on the red line in the Niger River that marked the course of the Calliope. There was really little doubt in his mind as to a decision. The chemical analysis was all that mattered. Pitt's final words about remaining behind and continuing the search for the contamination origin came back to haunt him. He took out one of his custom-rolled cigars from a leather case and slowly lit it. He stared at the marking that indicated Gao for a long, meaningful moment before looking up at Bock and Levant again.

"Gunn must be your priority rescue," Sandecker said flatly.

Bock nodded. "So be it."

"But how can we be sure Gunn hasn't already managed to board a plane departing the country?"

Levant gave a knowledgeable shrug. "My staff has already checked the flight schedules. The next flight by an. Air Mali aircraft, or any other aircraft for that matter, scheduled to depart Gao for a destination outside the country is four days from now, providing it isn't canceled, which is by no means a rare event."

"Four days," Sandecker repeated, his expectations suddenly dashed. "No way Gunn can hide out for four days. Twenty-four hours maybe. After that, Malian security forces are bound to ferret him out."