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Hala slid to her knees and leaned over and looked into the mirror. There was enough light to clearly see her reflection. The face that stared back was flat-eyed and expressionless. It was also a disaster. She looked like an over-the-hill streetwalker who had been beaten up by her pimp.
She reached out and pulled several paper towels from a rack. She dipped them in the cold water, then wiped clear the clotted blood and lipstick which had smeared around her mouth. Her mascara and eye shadow looked as if they had been applied by Jackson Pollock on a drip painting. She wiped away that mess too. Her hair was still reasonably intact so she patted the loose ends into place.
She still looked awful, she thought despairingly. She forced a smile when Pitt reappeared, hoping she looked more presentable.
. He looked at her a long moment and then screwed his face into an expression of awed curiosity. "Excuse me, g
orgeous creature, but have you seen an old crone anywhere?"
Tears welled in Hala's eyes and she half-laughed, halfcried. "You're a nice man, Mr. Pitt. Thank you."
"I try, God Icnows I try," he said humorously.
Pitt had returned with several blankets and he bundled them around her.
He placed one arm under her knees and the other around her waist and lifted her without the slightest sign of strain. As he carried her up the aisle his numbed legs began to give out and he stumbled for several steps before recovering.
"Are you all right?" she asked.
"Nothing a shot of Jack Daniel's Tennessee whiskey won't cure."
"As soon as I return home I'll send you a whole case."
"Where's home?"
"At the moment, New York."
"Next time I'm in town, let's have dinner together."
"I'd consider it an honor, Mister Pitt."
"Likewise, Miss Kaniil."
Hala raised her eyebrows. "You recognized me, looking horrible like this?"
"I admit it wasn't until after you'd fixed your face a bit."
"Forgive me for putting you to all this trouble. Your legs and feet must be frozen stiff."
"A minor discomfort is a small price for freezing.I held the SecretaryGeneral of the U.N. in my arms."
Amazing, truly amazing, thought Pitt. This has to be a redbanner day.
Dating the only three women, and attractive ones at that, within two thousand miles of frigid desolation inside of minutes had to be some sort of record. The feat meant more to him than discovering the Russian submarine.
Fifteen minutes later, after Hala, Rubin and the flight attendant were comfortably settled inside the helicopter, Pitt stood in front of the cockpit and waved to Giordino, who acknowledged with a thumbs up sign.
The rotors were engaged and the craft rose in the air above a swirling cloud of snow, swung around a hundred and eighty degrees and headed for the Polar Explorer. Only when it was safely airborne and on its way did Pitt hobble over to the auxiliary heating unit.
He pulled off his waterlogged boots and soggy socks and dangled his feet over the exhaust, soaking up the heat and gratefully accepting the stabbing pain of recirculation. He became vaguely aware of Simon's approach.
Simon stopped and stood, gazing at the wrinkled sides of the aircraft.
It did not look forlorn any more. To him, the knowledge of the dead inside gave it a camel house appearance.
"United Nations delegates," Simon said distantly, "is that who they were?"
"Several were members of the General Assembly," answered Pitt. "The
