Free The Mediterranean Caper by Clive Cussler Page B

Colonel,” replied Pitt, “until after it’s been applied.”
    Giordino walked toward the door. “I’ll run over to Base Operations and send that message to the admiral.”
    â€œWhen you’ve finished,” said Lewis, “drop by my quarters for supper.” Twisting his moustache, he turned to Pitt. “You’re invited too. I’ll give you men a real treat and whip up my renowned specialty: scallops with mushrooms in white wine sauce.”
    â€œIt sounds very appetizing,” said Pitt. “But I’m afraid I must decline. I have a previous dinner engagement…with a very attractive lady.”
    Giordino and Lewis could only gawk at him in dazed amazement.
    Pitt tried to look nonchalant. “She’s sending a car to pick me up at the main gate at six. I have just two minutes and thirty seconds to get there, so I’d best be leaving. Good evening, Colonel, and thank you for your invitation. I hope you’ll give me a rain check.” He faced Giordino. “Al, let me know the minute the admiral’s reply comes in.” Pitt turned and opened the door and left the room.
    Lewis slowly shook his head. “Is he bullshitting or does he really have a date with a girl?”
    â€œI’ve never known Dirk to bullshit about women, sir,” said Giordino. He was beginning to enjoy Lewis’ state of shock.
    â€œBut where did he meet her? To my knowledge he hasn’t been anywhere except the field and the ship.”
    Giordino shrugged. “Beats me. But knowing Pitt as I do, it wouldn’t surprise me if he picked up a girl on the hundred yards between the main gate and the First Attempt ’s loading dock.”
    Lewis’ booming laugh cracked across the room. “Well come along, Captain. I’m not a sexy girl but at least I can cook. How about some of my scallops?”
    â€œWhy not?” said Giordino. “That’s the best offer I’ve had all afternoon.”

5
    The furnace-like atmosphere cooled slightly as the fading sun fell to the west beyond the Thasos mountains. Long crooked shadows from the mountains’ tree-lined summits had moved down the slopes and were touching the seaward edge of Brady Field when Pitt passed through the main gate. He stopped on the outer road and inhaled the pure Mediterranean air, enjoying the inner sensation of having his lungs tingle. The habitual call for a cigarette tugged at his mind, but he pushed the urge aside and took another deep breath, looking out to sea. Beyond the rolling surf, the setting sun painted the First Attempt a colorful golden orange. The visibility was crystal clear, and at a distance of two miles his eyes could pick out an amazing amount of detail on board the ship. He stood quiet and still for almost a full two minutes, lost in the beauty of the scene. Then he glanced about, looking for the car that Teri promised to send for him.
    It was there, sitting off to one side of the road like a palatial and sumptuous yacht resting at anchor.
    â€œWell I’ll be damned,” Pitt muttered, spotting the car. He moved closer and his face betrayed an admiration for fine automobiles.
    It was a Maybach-Zeppelin town car, complete with a sliding glass partition separating the enclosed passenger compartment from the driver, who sat in the open exposed to the sun. Behind the large double-M ornament on the radiator, the hood stretched back six feet and ended at a low split windshield, giving the car an image of great brutish power. The long flowing fenders and running boards gleamed black but the coachwork was painted a deep multi-coated silver. It was a classic among classics: superb Teutonic craftsmanship evident in every fitting, every nut and every bolt. If the 1936 Rolls-Royce Phantom III typified the British ideal of silence and distinguished mechanical efficiency, then its German counterpart was found in the 1936 Maybach-Zeppelin.
    Pitt stepped up beside the car