Sahara (Dirk Pitt 11)

"The world environmental regulation organizations must be told of this," exclaimed Grimes. "The damage a toxic dump the size of Fort Foureau can produce is inestimable."

"Enough talk," said Hopper. "Time is precious. We have to move forward on the escape plan for these men."

"What about the rest of you?"

"We're in no shape to cross the desert. Our strength has been sapped and our bodies racked from slaving in the mines, too little sleep, and almost no food or water. No way we can make it. So we did the next best thing. Hoarded supplies and prayed for someone like you to arrive in good physical condition."

Pitt looked down at Eva. "I can't leave her."

"Then stay and die with the rest of us," Grimes said abruptly. "You're the only hope for everyone in this hellhole."

Eva clutched Pitt's hand. "You must go, and go quickly," she pleaded. "Before it's too late."

"She's right, you know," added Fairweather. "Forty-eight hours in the shafts and they break you. Look at us. We're washed out. None of us could cross 5 kilometers of desert before dropping."

Pitt stared at the dirt floor. "How far do you think Al and I'd get without water? Twenty, maybe 30 kilometers farther than you?"

"We've only hoarded enough for one man," said Hopper. "We'll leave it to you to decide who makes the attempt and who stays."

Pitt shook his head. "Al and I go together."

"Two will never get far enough for rescue."

"What kind of distance are we talking about?" asked Giordino.

"The Trans-Saharan Motor Track is close to 400 kilometers due east of here, across the border in Algeria," replied Fairweather. "After 300, you'll have to trust to luck to get you the rest of the way. Once you reach the track, you should be able to flag down a passing vehicle."

Pitt tilted his head as if he didn't hear Fairweather right. "Maybe I missed something. You neglected to explain how we breeze past the first 300 kilometers?"

"You steal one of O'Bannion's trucks once you reach the surface. It should carry you that far."

"A little optimistic, aren't we," said Pitt. "What if its fuel tank is empty?"

"No one ever keeps an empty petrol tank in the desert," Fairweather said firmly.

"Just walk out of here, punch an elevator button, ride to the surface, steal a truck, and roll merrily on our way," Giordino scowled. "Sure we will."

Hopper smiled. "Do you have a better plan?"

"To be honest," Pitt laughed, "we don't even have an outline."

"We'd hurry things up a bit," warned Fairweather. "Melika will be dragging everyone back to the mines within the hour."

Pitt looked around the prisoners' cave. "Do you all blast and load ore?"

"The political prisoners, which includes us," answered Grimes, "dig and load the ore after it's blasted from the rock. The criminal prisoners labor in the rock crusher and recovery levels. They also make up the blasting crew. Poor devils, none of them last long. If they don't blow themselves to bits with explosives they die from the mercury and cyanide used in the amalgamation and refining of the gold."

"How many foreign nationals are you?"

"There are five of us left from the original team of six. One was murdered by Melika, who beat her to death."

"A woman?"

Hopper nodded. "Dr. Marie Victor, a vivacious lady and one of the finest physiologists in Europe." Hopper's jovial expression had vanished. "She was the third since we arrived. Two of the wives of the French engineers from Fort Foureau were murdered by Melika too." He paused to look sadly at the wasted little girl in the bunk. "Their children suffer the worst, and there is nothing we can do."

Fairweather pointed to a group of people clustered around three of the tiered bunks. Four were women, eight were men. One of the women was holding a little boy about three against her body.

"My God!" Pitt whispered. "Of course, of course! Massarde couldn't allow the engineers who constructed his project to return to France and spill the truth."