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The name brought back a fond memory in Pitt's mind of an interlude spent with Hala Kamil on board a ship in the Straits of Magellan. Two years ago, he recalled, during the search for the Alexandria Library treasures.
Levant caught the faraway look and Giordino knowingly smiled. Pitt saw their expressions and refocused his attention to the satellite map. "There is a catch."
"There are several," said Levant evenly. "But they can all be overcome."
"Except two."
"And they are. . .?"
"We don't know where O'Bannion's communications center and security monitoring rooms are located. If he sends out an alert to Kazim's security forces before you can stop him, we won't stand a bishop's chance in hell of making it back to this aircraft and getting a good headstart to Algeria before one of his fighter squadrons shows up and nails us to the nearest barn door."
"In that case, we have to get in and out of the mine within forty minutes," said Levant. "Not impossible if most of the captives can make it aboveground without help. If many of them have to be carried, we will lose valuable time we cannot spare."
At that moment Captain Pembroke-Smythe appeared with a tray of coffee and sandwiches from the aircraft's galley. "Our fare is filling if not gourmet," he said cheerfully. "You have a choice between chicken salad and tuna fish."
Pitt looked at Levant and grinned. "You weren't kidding when you said you ran on a tight budget."
As the airbus soared over the desert as black as the sea, Pitt and Giordino sketched large diagrams of the mine levels as they remembered them. Levant was amazed at their recollections. Neither professed to photographic memories, but they recalled an enormous amount of detail for the short time they were held prisoner in the mine.
Levant and two other officers in
terrogated the NUMA men in depth, often repeating questions three or four times in hopes of obtaining details observed but overlooked. The track to the canyon, the layout of the mine, the weapons of the guards, it was all covered over and over.
The data was voice recorded on computer and the sketches of the mine programmed into three dimensions. Nothing was overlooked. The weather forecast for the next several hours, the flight time of Kazim's jet fighters from Gao, alternate escape plans and routes should the airbus be destroyed on the ground. Every possible contingency was given a plan.
An hour before touchdown at Tebezza, Levant assembled his small force of men and women in the main cabin. Pitt led off the briefing by describing the guards, their numbers and arms, and observations of their indolent attitude from living and working beneath the desert.
He was followed by Giordino who gave them a tour of the mine levels with the oversized sketches pinned to a standing easel.
Pembroke-Smythe divided up the UN tactical team that was to execute the assault into four units and passed out individual maps of the underground tunnels printed from the computer. Levant capped the briefing by instructing the teams on their missions.
"I apologize for our lack of intelligence," he began. "We've never attempted such a dangerous mission with so little data. The charts you've been given of the mine show probably less than 20 percent of the existing tunnels and shafts. We have to strike hard and fast by securing the offices and guards' quarters. Once we've eliminated resistance, we will round up the prisoners and begin our withdrawal. Final rendezvous will be at the entrance cavern exactly forty minutes from the time we go in. Any questions so far?"
A hand went up and a man near the front spoke up with a Slavic accent. "Why forty minutes, Colonel?"
"Any more, Corporal Wadilinski, and a Malian fighter pilot at the nearest air force base can close and shoot us down before we're safely back into Algeria. I'm hoping that most of the captives can make it to our transports without help. If many of them have to be carried, we will be delayed."
Another hand. "What if we get lost in the mine and cannot find our way back to the rendezvous in time for the withdrawal?"
"Then you will be left behind," Levant answered conversationally. "Anyone else?"
"Do we get to keep any gold we find?"
The query came from a muscle-bound character in the back, followed by a round of laughter.
"You will all be strip searched at the end of the mission," replied Pembroke-Smythe jovially. "And any gold found will be turned over to my personal account in Switzerland."
"The ladies too?" This from one of the women.
He threw her a wily smile. "Especially the ladies."
Though it did not crack his serious expression, Levant was thankful for the show of humor to relax the tense atmosphere. "Now that we know where the booty goes," he said, "let us wrap this up. I will lead the first unit with Mr. Pitt as our guide. We will clear the offices on the upper level before descending into the mine and releasing the captives from their hellhole. Unit two, under the command of Captain Pembroke-Smythe and led by Mr. Giordino, wilt drop down the elevator and secure the guards' quarters. Lieutenant Steinholm will be in charge of unit three and will follow as backup and take up defensive positions at the side shafts off the main tunnel to prevent flanking movements: Unit four under Lieutenant Morrison will secure the gold ore recovery levels. Except for the medical team, the rest of you will remain to guard the airstrip. Any further questions shall be directed to your unit commanders."
Levant paused and stared around the interior of the cabin at the faces of his men. "I regret we've had so little time to prepare for this operation, but it should not prove beyond the capabilities of a team that has successfully accomplished its last six missions without the loss of a single man or woman. If you should confront the unexpected, improvise. We have to get in, free the captives, and get out fast before we are pursued by the Malian air force. End of speech. Good luck to all of you." Then Levant turned and walked into his command compartment.
The data from satellite positioning systems was downlinked to the navigational computer which fed the course into the automatic pilot and put the UN airbus precisely over the plateau of Tebezza. A slight correction toward a new grid coordinate and the pilot was soon circling the airstrip that showed as a barren strip across the desert on the monitor of the sonar/radar system:
