The pilot swung around the huge crane on the Sounder’s stern and settled onto the landing pad aft of the superstructure. Pitt was the first to step down to the deck, followed by Gunn. Giordino, moving like a zombie, brought up the rear, yawning every step of the way. Several crewmen and scientists, who were old friends, met and exchanged greetings with them as the rotor blades spun to a stop and the helicopter was tied down.

Pitt knew his way about and headed up a ladder to the hatch that led to one of the Sounder’s marine laboratories. He passed through the counters piled with chemical apparatus and into a conference and lecture room. For a working research ship, the room was pleasantly furnished like an executive boardroom with a long, mahogany table and comfortably padded leather chairs.

A black man stood in front of a large, rear projection screen with his back to Pitt. He seemed engrossed in a graphic diagram that imaged on the screen. He was at least twenty years older than Pitt and much taller. Pitt guessed him at slightly over 2 meters tall with the loose-limbed movements of an ex-basketball player written all over him.

But what caught and locked the eye of Pitt and his two friends was neither the colored graphics on the screen nor the incredibly tall presence of the stranger It was the other figure in the conference room, a short, trim and .yet commanding figure who leaned indifferently with one hand on the table while the other held a huge unlit cigar. The narrow face, the cold, authoritative blue eyes, the flaming but now graying red hair and precisely trimmed beard gave him the image of a retired naval admiral, which, as the blue blazer with the embroidered gold anchors on the breast pocket suggested, was exactly what he was.

Admiral James Sandecker, the driving force behind NUMA, straightened, smiled his barracuda smile, and stepped forward, his hand extended.

“Dirk! AI!” The greeting came as if he was surprised by their unexpected visit. “Congratulations on discovering the pharaoh’s funeral barge. A beautiful job. Well done.” He noticed Gunn and merely nodded. “Rudi, I see you rounded them up without incident.”

“Like lambs to a slaughter,” Gunn said with a grim smile.

Pitt gave Gunn a hard look, then turned to Sandecker. “You pulled us off the Nile in a hell of a hurry. Why?”

Sandecker feigned a hurt expression. “No hello or glad to see you. No greeting at all for your poor old boss who had to cancel a dinner date with a ravishing, wealthy, Washington socialite and fly 6000 kilometers just to compliment your performance.”

“Why is it your highly dubious blessing fills me with anxiety?”

Giordino dropped moodily into a chair. “Since we did so good, how about a nice fat raise, a bonus, a quick flight home, and a two-week vacation with pay?”

Sandecker said with forbearance, “The ticker tape parade down Broadway comes later. After you’ve taken a leisurely cruise up the Niger River.”