Sahara (Dirk Pitt 11)

"They were caught?"

"Not as of four hours ago."

"Where exactly were they searching?"

Yerli seemed upset, and Hala detected the strained urgency in his tone. "The Niger River."

Yerli clutched her arm and his eyes turned deadly. "I want to know more about this."

For the first time she felt a chill run through her. "They were hunting for the source of a chemical compound that is causing the giant red tide off the coast of Africa."

"I've read about it in the newspapers. Go on."

"I was told they used a boat with chemical analysis equipment to track the chemical to where it emptied into the river."

"Did they find it?" he demanded.

"According to Admiral Sandecker, they had traced it as far as Gao in Mali."

Yerli didn't look convinced. "Disinformation, that has to be the answer. This thing must be a cover-up for something else."

She shook her head. "Unlike you, the Admiral does not lie for a living."

"You say NUMA was behind the operation?"

Hala nodded.

"Not the CIA or another American intelligence agency?"

She shook her arm free and smiled smugly. "You mean your devious intelligence sources in West Africa had no idea the Americans were operating under their noses?"

"Don't be absurd. What spectacular secrets could an impoverished nation like Mali possibly have that would attract American interests?"

"There must be something. Why don't you tell me what it is?"

Yerli seemed distracted and did not immediately answer her. "Nothing . . . nothing of course." He rapped on the glass to get the driver's attention. Then he motioned to the curb.

The chauffeur braked and pulled to a stop in front of a large office building. "You're tearing yourself away from me?" Her voice was th

ick with contempt.

He turned and looked at her. "I am truly sorry. Can you forgive me?"

Something inside her ached. She shook her head. "No, Ismail. I won't forgive you. We will never meet again. I expect your resignation letter on my desk by noon tomorrow. If not, I will have you expelled from the UN."

"Aren't you being a bit harsh?"

Hala's path was set. "Your concerns are not with the 'World Health Organization. Nor, if they only knew it, are you even 50 percent loyal to the French. If anything, you're working for your own financial ends." She leaned over him and pushed open the door. "Now get out!"

Silently, Yerli climbed from the car and stood on the curb. Hala, with tears forming in her eyes, pulled the door shut and never looked back as the driver shifted the limousine into gear and merged into the one-way traffic.

Yerli wished he could feel remorse or sadness, but he was too professional. She was right, he had used her. His affection toward her was an act. His only attraction for her was sexual. She had simply been another assignment. But like too many women who are drawn to aloof men who treat them indifferently, she could not help herself from falling in love with him. And she was only now beginning to learn the cost.

He walked into the cocktail lounge of the Algonquin Hotel, ordered a drink, and then used the pay phone. He dialed a number and waited for someone to answer on the other end.

"Yes?"

He lowered his voice and talked in a confidential tone. "I have information vital to Mr. Massarde."