"Take a picture of the three battered bastards of Cerro el Capirote."
"And one battered bitch," added Loren, squeezing into the lineup.
Rodgers got off three shots before the reporters took over.
"Mr. Pitt!" One of the TV interviewers pushed a microphone in front of his face. "What can you tell us about the subterranean river?"
"Only that it exists," he answered smoothly, "and that it's very wet."
"How large would you say it is?"
He had to think a moment as he slipped his arm around Loren and squeezed her hip. "I'd guess about two-thirds the size of the Rio Grande."
"That big?"
"Easily."
"How do you feel after swimming through underground caverns for over a hundred kilometers?"
Pitt was always irritated when a reporter asked how a mother or father felt after their house burned down with all their children inside, or how a witness felt who watched someone fall from an airplane without a parachute.
"Feel?" stated Pitt. "Right now I feel that my bladder will burst if I don't get to a bathroom."
HOMECOMING
November 4, 1998
San Felipe, Baja California
Two days later, after everyone gave detailed statements to the Mexican investigators, they were free to leave the country. They assembled on the dock to bid their farewells.
Dr. Peter Duncan was the first to leave. The hydrologist slipped away early in the morning and was gone before anyone missed him. He had a busy year ahead of him as director of the Sonoran Water Project, as it was to be called. The water from the river was to prove a godsend to the drought-plagued Southwest. Water, the lifeblood of civilization, would create jobs for the people of the desert.
Construction of aqueducts and pipelines would channel the water into towns and cities and would turn a dry lake into a recreational reservoir the size of Lake Powell.
Soon to follow would be projects to mine the mineral riches Pitt had discovered on his underground odyssey and to build a tourist center beneath the earth.
Dr. Shannon Kelsey was in
vited back to Peru to continue her excavations of the ruins in the Chachapoyan cities. Where she went, Miles Rodgers followed.
"I hope we meet again," said Rodgers, shaking Pitt's hand.
"Only if you promise to stay out of sacred sinkholes," Pitt said warmly.
Rodgers laughed. "Count on it."
Pitt looked down into Shannon's eyes. The determination and boldness burned as bright as ever. "I wish you all the best."
She saw in him the only man she had ever met whom she couldn't have or control. She felt an undercurrent of affection toward him she couldn't explain. Just to spite Loren again, Shannon kissed Pitt long and hard.
"So long, big guy. Don't forget me."
Pitt nodded and said simply, "I couldn't if I tried."
Shortly after Shannon and Miles left in their rented car for the airport in San Diego, a NUMA helicopter dropped out of the sun and touched down on the deck of the Alhambra. The pilot left the engine idling as he jumped down from the cargo hatch. He looked around a moment and then, recognizing Sandecker, approached him.
"Good morning, Admiral. Ready to leave, or should 1 shut down the engine?"