Mansa had never been on board, but he’d heard stories of the glass-domed spiral staircase that ascended from the spacious master suite to the heliport. The ten sumptuous staterooms furnished in French antiques, the high-ceilinged dining room with murals from the time of Louis XIV taken from the walls of a Loire River chateau, the steam rooms, sauna, Jacuzzis, and cocktail bar in a revolving observation lounge, and the electronic communication systems linking Massarde to his worldwide empire, they all worked together to make the mansion on the water unlike anything ever built.

As the Colonel climbed from the boat onto the gangway and up the teak steps, he had hopes of seeing something of the luxurious craft, but his expectations turned sour when Kazim met him on the deck beside the gangway. He was holding a glass half filled with champagne. He made no effort to offer Mansa one.

“I hope your interruption of my business conference with Monsieur Massarde is as urgent as you implied in your message,” Kazim said coldly.

Mansa saluted smartly and began a hurried but precise briefing, embellishing the facts and polishing the details of Batutta’s report on the United Nations World Health team, but never mentioning the captain by name.

Kazim listened with curious interest. His dark eyes deepened and stared unseeing into the glistening lights of the houseboat dancing on the water. A worried crease appeared in his face, but this was soon replaced with a tight smile across his lips.

When Mansa finished speaking, Kazim asked, “When is Hopper and his caravan expected back in Timbuktu?”

“If they leave tomorrow morning, they should arrive by late afternoon.”

“More than enough time to circumvent the good doctor’s plans.” He looked icily into Mansa’s eyes. “I trust you will appear disappointed and most solicitous when Hopper announces the failure of his investigation to you.”

“I will be at my diplomatic best,” Mansa assured him.

“Is his aircraft and its crew still on the ground in Timbuktu?”

Mansa nodded. “The pilots are staying at the Hotel Azalai.”

“You say Hopper intends to pay them a bonus to land in the desert north of here?”

“Yes, that is what he told the others.”

“We must gain control of the aircraft.”

“You wish me to bribe the pilots above what Hopper offers them?”

“A waste of good money,” Kazim sneered. “Kill them.”

Mansa half expected the order and did not react. “Yes, sir.”

“And replace them with pilots from our own military who resemble their size and facial features.”

“A masterful plan, my General.”

“Also, inform Dr. Hopper that I insist Captain Batutta accompany them to Cairo to act as my personal representative to the World Health Organization. He will oversee the operation.”

“What orders do you wish me to give our replacement officers?”

“Order them,” said Kazim with evil blackness in his eyes, “to land Dr. Hopper and his party at Asselar.”