Free Sahara by Clive Cussler Page B

investigating the outbreaks of toxic poisoning in the southwestern desert.”
    “At this point of the project,” said Hopper, “we don’t even know if contamination is the culprit. The mystery malady could be viral or bacterial.”
    Eva nodded. “That’s what Pitt suggested.”
    “Who?” Hopper asked for the second time.
    “Dirk Pitt, the man who saved my life. He said somebody doesn’t want me in Africa. He also thought you and the others might be on a hit list too.”
    Yerli threw up his hands. “Incredible, the man thinks we’re dealing with the Sicilian Mafia.”
    “Most fortunate he was nearby,” said Hopper.
    Yerli exhaled a blue cloud from his meerschaum and stared at the smoke thoughtfully. “More like opportune, considering the only other body on miles of shoreline had the courage to face a trio of assassins. Almost a miracle, or . . .” he stretched out the pause, “a preconceived presence.”
    Eva’s eyes widened in skepticism. “If you’re thinking it was a setup, Ismail, you can forget it.”
    “Maybe he staged the act to frighten you back to the States.”
    “I saw him kill three men with my own eyes. Believe you me, there was nothing staged about it.”
    “Have you heard from him since he dropped you off at the hotel?” queried Hopper.
    “Only a message at the front desk asking me to have dinner with him this evening.”
    “And you still think he was just a passing good Samar i tan,” Yerli persisted.
    Eva ignored him and looked at Hopper. “Pitt told me he was in Egypt for an archaeological survey of the Nile River for the National Underwater and Marine Agency. I have little reason to doubt him.”
    Hopper turned to Yerli. “That should be easy enough to check out.”
    Yerli nodded. “I’ll call a friend who’s a marine biologist with NUMA.”
    “The question is still why?” muttered Hopper almost absently.
    Yerli shrugged. “If Eva’s attempted murder was a conspiracy, it may well have been part of a plot to instill fear and force us to cancel our mission.”
    “Yes, but we have five separate research teams of six members each heading for the southern desert. They’ll be spread across five nations from Sudan to Mauritania. No one forced us on them. Their governments asked the United Nations for help in finding an answer to the strange sickness sweeping their lands. We are invited guests, certainly not unwanted enemies.”
    Yerli stared at Hopper. “You’re forgetting, Frank. There was one government who wanted no part of us.”
    Hopper nodded grimly. “You’re right. I overlooked President Tahir of Mali. He was very reluctant to allow us inside his borders.”
    “More likely General Kazim,” said Yerli. “Tahir is a puppet head of state. Zateb Kazim is the true power behind the Malian government.”
    “What’s he got against harmless biologists trying to save lives?” asked Eva.
    Yerli turned up his palms. “We may never know.”
    “It does seem a timely coincidence,” said Hopper softly, “that people, especially Europeans, have been vanishing with some regularity in the great emptiness of northern Mali during the past year.”
    “Like the tourist safari that’s making the headlines,” said Eva.
    “Their whereabouts and fate are still a mystery,” added Yerli quietly.
    “I can’t believe there’s a connection between that tragedy and Eva’s attack,” said Hopper.
    “But if we assume that General Kazim is the villain in Eva’s case, it would stand to reason his spies ferreted out the fact that she was a member of the Malian biological studies team. With that knowledge in hand, he ordered her assassination as a warning for the rest of us to stay clear of his camel park.”
    Eva laughed. “With your fertile imagination, Ismail, you’d make a great Hollywood screenwriter.”
    Yerli’s thick eyebrows pinched together. “I think we should play safe and keep the Mali team in Cairo until this matter can be fully investigated and