“We deeply appreciate your time and interest,” said Sandecker, and he meant it.

“There is no doubt about the horror of this threat?” she put to Chapman.

“None. If the red tide spreads unhindered over the oceans, it will stifle the oxygen required to support global life.”

“And that doesn’t take into consideration the toxicity,” added Yaeger, “which is certain to cause mass death of all marine life and any human or animal that consumes it.”

She looked at Sandecker. “What about your Congress, your scientists? Surely there must be concern by your government and the world environmental community.”

“There is concern,” replied Sandecker. “We’ve presented our evidence to the President and members of Congress, but the gears of the bureaucracy grind slowly. Committees are studying the matter, No decisions are forthcoming. The scope of the horror is beyond them. They cannot conceive of the rapidly dwindling time element.”

“We have, of course, passed our preliminary findings along to ocean and contamination scientists,” said Chapman. “But until we can isolate the exact cause of this plague on the seas, there is little any of us can do to create a solution.”

Hala was silent. It was difficult for her to come to grips with apocalypse, especially on such short notice. In a way she was powerless. Her position as Secretary General of the UN was more as an illusionary queen of a hollow kingdom. Her job was to watch over the diverse peacekeeping functions and the many trade and relief programs. She could direct but not command.

She looked across a coffee table at Sandecker. “Other than promise the cooperation of our United Nations Environment Program Organization, I don’t see what else I can do.”

Sandecker’s self-confidence took another step forward and his voice, low and tense, came slow and distinctly. “I sent a boat with a team of men up the Niger River to analyze the water in an attempt to find the source behind the red tide explosion.”

Hala’s dark eyes were cool and penetrating. “Was that your boat that sank the Benin gunboats?” she asked.

“Your intelligence is very good.”

“I receive briefings from reports gathered around the world.”

“Yes, it was a NUMA vessel,” Sandecker admitted.

“You know, I assume, the Admiral who was Chief-of-Staff for the Benin navy and brother of the nation’s president was killed in the battle.”

“I heard.”

“It was my understanding your boat was flying a French ensign. Doing your devious dirty work under a foreign flag could get your crew shot as enemy agents by the West Africans.”

“My men were aware of the danger and volunteered. They knew every hour counts if we are to stop the red tide before it expands beyond our technology to kill it.”

“Are they still alive?”

Sandecker nodded. “As of a few hours ago they had traced the contamination across the Malian border and were I approaching the town of Gao unmolested.”

“Who else in your government knows about this?”