“Then somebody wants something we’ve got.”

“Seems to be heading in that direction.”

“But what?” asked Giordino in exasperation. “Our data on the contaminant?”

“Except for the three of us, Sandecker, and Chapman, no one knows the purpose of our project. Unless there’s a leak, it has to be something else.”

“Like what?”

Pitt grinned. “Would you believe our boat?”

“The Calliope!” Giordino was frankly disbelieving. “You’ll have to do better than that.”

“No,” stated Pitt flatly. “Think about it. A highly specialized craft, built in secrecy, capable of 70 knots, and with enough sting to take out a helicopter and two gunboats within three minutes. Any West African military leader would give his eyeteeth to get his hands on her.”

“Okay, I’ll accept that,” Giordino said grudgingly. “But answer me this. If the Calliope is so desirable, why wasn’t she grabbed by Niger goons while we were standing around the refueling dock in Niamey?”

“A shot in the dark? Okay, somebody cut a deal.”

“Who?”

“Don’t know.”

“Why?”

“Can’t say.”

“So when does the axe fall?”

“They’ve let us get this far, so the answer must lie in Mali.”

Giordino looked at Pitt. “So we’re not returning the way we came.”

“We bought a one-way ticket when we sank the Benin navy.”

“I’m a firm believer of getting there is half the fun.”

“The fun is over, if you are morbid enough to call it that.” Pitt looked over the banks of the river. The green vegetation had given way to a barren landscape of scrub brush, gravel, and yellow dirt. “Judging from the terrain, we may have to trade the boat for camels if we expect to see home again.”

“Oh God!” Giordino groaned. “Can you picture me riding a freak of nature? A reasonable man who believes the only reason God put horses on earth is for background in western movies.”

“We’ll survive,” said Pitt. “The Admiral will move half of heaven and most of hell to get us out after we home in on the poison glop.”

Giordino turned and looked dolefully down the Niger. “So this is it,” he said slowly.

“This is what?”

“The legendary creek people go up and lose their paddles.”

Pitt’s lips curled in a crooked grin. “If that’s where we are, then pull down the French tricolor ensign, and by God we’ll fly our own.”

“We’re under orders to hide our nationality,” Giordino protested. “We can’t go about our sneaky business under the stars and stripes.”

“Who said anything about the stars and stripes?”

Giordino knew he was stepping into deep water. “Okay, dare I ask what flag you intend to raise?”

“This one.” He reached into a drawer of the bridge counter and tossed Giordino a folded black ensign. “I borrowed it at a costume party I attended a couple of months ago.”

Giordino made an expression of shocked dismay as he stared at the grinning skull in the center of the rectangular cloth. “The Jolly Roger, you intend to fly the Jolly Roger?”