Sahara (Dirk Pitt 11)

"I deeply regret," said Hargrove, "we couldn't arrive sooner."

Levant shrugged. "It is a miracle you are here at all."

"A magnificent stand, Colonel." Hargrove glanced around the destruction. Then he stared past Levant at the battle-weary fighters lined up behind, an incredulous look on his face. "Is this all of you?"

"Yes, all that's left of my fighting force."

"How many under your command?"

"About forty at the beginning."

As if in a trance, Hargrove again saluted Levant. "My compliments on a glorious defense. I've never seen anything like it."

"We have wounded in the fort's underground arsenal," Levant informed Hargrove.

"I was told you also were originally convoying women and children."

"They are below with my wounded."

Hargrove abruptly turned and shouted to his officers. "Get our medics up here and take care of these people. Bring up those from below and evacuate them onto the transport choppers, double quick. The Malian air force can show up any second."

Giordino walked up to Pitt who was standing off to one side and embraced him. "I thought this time, old friend, you weren't going to make it."

Pitt still tried a grin despite the waves of fatigue and the gnawing pain from the bullet hole in the fleshy part of his thigh. "The devil and I couldn't agree on terms."

"I'm sorry I couldn't have put the show on the road two hours sooner," Giordino lamented.

"No one expected you by train."

"Hargrove couldn't risk flying his choppers through Kazim's fighter defense screen in daylight."

Pitt looked up as an Apache warbird circled the fort, its sophisticated electronics probing over the horizons for intruders. "You made it through without detection," he said. "That's what counts."

Giordino looked into Pitt's eyes guardedly. "Eva?"

"Alive but badly injured. Thanks to you and your air horn, she missed dying by two seconds."

"She came that close to being shot by Kazim's mob?" Giordino asked curiously.

"No, shot by me." Before Giordino could reply, Pitt gestured toward the entrance to the arsenal. "Come along. She'll be happy to see your Quasimodo face."

Giordino's face grew sober at the sight of all the wounded with their bloody bandages and splints lying jammed on the floor of the cramped area. He was surprised by the damage caused by falling stones from the ceiling. But what stunned him most was the incredible silence. None of the wounded uttered a sound, no moan escaped their lips. No one in that crumbling arsenal cellar spoke. The children merely stared at him, totally subdued after hours of fright.

Then, as if on cue, they all broke into weak cheers and applause at recognizing Giordino as the one who brought reinforcements and saved their lives. Pitt was amused by it all. He had never seen Giordino display so much modesty and embarrassment as the men reached out to shake his hand and the women kissed him like a long-lost lover.

Then Giordino spotted Eva as she raised her head and flashed a wide smile. "Al. . . oh Al, I knew you'd come back."

He crouched beside her, careful not to make contact with her injuries, and awkwardly patted her hand. "You don't know how glad I am to see you and Dirk still breathing."

"We had quite a party," she said bravely. "Too bad you missed it."

"They sent me out for ice."

She glanced around at the others

suffering around her. "Can't something be done for them?"

"The medics from the Special Forces are on their way," Pitt explained. "Everyone will be evacuated as soon as possible:"