"Could it be a dump site with nuclear waste too?"

Gunn nodded. "I'm finding fairly high readings of radiation in the water. It's only another portion of the overall pollution and has no relation to our contaminant's qualities, but there is a definite connection."

Pitt didn't reply but looked again into the radar screen at the image of the gunboat, still out of eyesight astern. If anything, it had dropped farther back. He turned and scanned the sky for the fighter jets. They were still lazily clawing at the sky, conserving their fuel while keeping a distant watch over the Calliope. The river had widened to several kilometers and he lost sight of the armored cars.

"Our job is only half done," he said. "The next exercise is to target where the toxin enters the Niger. The Malians don't seem in any hurry to harass us. So we'll continue our survey upstream and attempt to wrap this thing up before they slam the door."

"With our data transmission system kaput, how do we get th

e results to Chapman and Sandecker?" asked Giordino.

"I'll figure something."

Gunn placed his trust in Pitt without hesitation. He nodded without speaking and returned to his cabin lab.

Pitt thankfully turned over the helm to Giordino while he stretched out on a deck mat under the cockpit canopy and caught up on his lost sleep.

When he woke up, the sun's orange ball was a third down over the horizon, and yet the air felt 10 degrees warmer. A quick check of the radar showed the gunboat was still dogging their stern, but the watchdog fighter jets were on a course back to their base to refuel. They were getting cocky, Pitt surmised. The Malians must have thought their quarry was in the bag. Why else would the fighters depart without being relieved by another flight? As he rose to his feet and stretched his arms and shoulders, Giordino handed him a mug of coffee.

"Here, this should wake you up. Good Egyptian coffee with mud on the bottom of the cup."

"How long was I in dreamland?"

"You were dead to the world for a little over two hours."

"Have we passed Gao?"

"Cruised past the city about 50 kilometers back. You missed seeing a floating villa with a bevy of bikini-clad beauties throwing kisses to me from the railings."

"You're putting me on."

Giordino held up three fingers. "Scout's honor. It was the fanciest houseboat I've ever laid eyes on."

"Is Rudi still reading strong toxin levels?"

Giordino nodded. "He says the concentration gets hotter with each passing kilometer."

We must be close."

"He thinks we're almost on top of the stuff."

Just for an instant something flickered deep in Pitt's eyes, a sudden gleam, almost as if something was created, something imagined that reflected from inside his brain. Giordino always knew when Pitt departed reality and traveled to some unknown destination. With a blink of his opaline eyes all recognition was gone, replaced with a view of another scene.

Giordino stared at him curiously. "I don't like that look."

Pitt came back down to earth. "Just thinking of a way to keep the Calliope from a despotic backwater jerk who wants it for his drunken orgies."

"And how do you expect to erase the possessive gleam in Kazim's eye?"

Pitt smiled like a reincarnated Fagin. "By conjuring up a dirty scheme to defeat his expectations."

Shortly before sunset, Gunn called from below. "We've crossed into clean water. The contamination just disappeared off my instruments."

Pitt and Giordino immediately turned their heads and scouted both shores. The river at this point ran on a slight angle from west of north to east of south. There were no villages or bordering roads to be seen. Only desolation met the eyes, level and barren without disruption all the way to the four horizons.

"Empty," muttered Giordino. "Empty as a shaven armpit."

Gunn emerged, staring back over the stern. "See anything?"

Tags: Clive Cussler Dirk Pitt Thriller
Source: readsnovelonline.net