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"The original Fort Foureau. It was abandoned just after World War II. I visited it once."
"The same."
"We'd be tempting suicide without a guide to lead us through the dunes," Levant argued.
"One of the rescued captives is a professional tourist guide. He knows the Malian desert like a nomad."
Levant turned his attention back on the burning airbus for several moments, his mind considering the pros and cons of Pitt's proposal. If he could trade places with General Kazim, he would expect his quarry to run north for the nearest border crossing too. And he would also commit all his mobile fighting forces in an attempt to block them off. Pitt was right, he concluded. There was absolutely no hope of escaping north into Algeria. Kazim would never call off the pursuit until they were all dead. Striking out in the opposite direction just might fool the General and Massarde into a wild goose chase long enough for the tactical team to steal into the clear.
"I didn't tell you, did I, Mr. Pitt? I spent eight years in the desert when I was a member of the Foreign Legion."
"No, Colonel, you didn't."
"The nomads have a fable about a lion with a hunter's spear in his side that walked north from the jungle and swam across the Niger River so he could die in the warm sand of the desert."
"Is there a lesson in it somewhere?" asked Pitt vaguely.
"Not really."
"So what's the meaning?"
Levant turned as the personnel vehicles approached and stopped beside the dune buggy. Then he looked back at Pitt and slowly smiled. "What it means is that I'm going to trust your judgment and push south to the railroad."
Kazim entered Massarde's office at eleven o'clock in the evening. He helped himself to a gin on the rocks and sat down in a chair before Massarde bothered to look up and acknowledge the General's presence.
"I was informed of your unexpected arrival, Zateb," said Massarde. "What brings you to Fort Foureau this time of night?"
Kazim studied his drink as he swirled the ice cubes. "I thought it best I tell you in person."
"Tell me what?" Massarde inquired impatiently.
"Tebezza has been raided."
Massarde frowned. "What are you talking about?"
"About nine o'clock, my communications section received an emergency alert from the mine's security system," explained Kazim. "A few minutes later, the Tebezza radio operator announced an all-clear, saying the alarm went off due to a faulty electrical circuit."
"Sounds innocent enough."
"Only on the surface. I do not trust seemingly innocent situations. I ordered one of my air force fighters to make a reconnaissance flight over the area. The pilot radioed that an unidentified jet transport plane was sitting on Tebezza's airstrip. The same type of French airbus, I might add, that snatched the American from the Gao airport."
Massarde's face turned sober with sudden concern. "Your pilot was positive of this?"
Kazim nodded. "Since no aircraft can land at Tebezza without my authority, I ordered my pilot to destroy it. He acknowledged and launched his attack. He reported a hit on the target in almost the same instant his radio went dead."
"Good God, man, it could have been a commercial airliner that simply made an emergency landing."
"Commercial airliners do not fly the skies without markings."
"I think you're overreacting."
"Then explain why my pilot did not return to his base."
"Mechanical malfunction?" Massarde shrugged. "It could have suffered any number of problems."
"I prefer to believe he was shot down by the force that raided the mines."
