Treasure

The President took a final swallow of wine and set the glass on the table. "I must confess, I like what I hear."

"The crisis in Egypt is far from over," warned Secretary Oates. "Yazid may be pushed out of the limelight for a while, but in President Hasan's absence the Moslem Brotherhood of fundamentalist fanatics has formed an alliance with the Liberal and Socialist Labor parties. Together, they'll work to undemiine Hasan's nile, to bring Egypt under Islamic ties with the United States and scuttle Israeli peace agreements."

The President tilted his head at Schiller. "Do you subscribe to Doug's doomsday canvas, Julius?"

Schiller nodded grimly. "I do."

"Martin?"

Brogan's solemn expression told it all. "The inevitable has only been stalled off. Hasan's government must eventually fall. The military's support will be here today and gone tomorrow. My best brains at Langley project a fairly bloodless coup eighteen to twenty-four months from now."

"I recommend we take a hands-off, wait-and-see attitude, Mr. President,"

said Oates. "And study our options in dealing with another Muslim government."

"You're suggesting an isolationist approach," said the President.

"Maybe it's time we took that stance," suggested Schiller. "Nothing of substance your predecessors attempted in the last twenty years worked."

"The Russians will lose too," added Nichols. "And our big consolation is in keeping Paul Capesterre, also known as Akhmad Yazid, from creating another Iranian disaster. He would have worked to destroy our Middle East interests at any cost.

"I do not entirely agree with your overall picture," said Brogan. "But in the time we have left we still have the opportunity to cultivate the next man to rule Egypt."

A questioning frown crossed the President's face. "What do you have in mind?"

"Egypt's Defense Minister, Abu Hamid."

"You think he'll seize the government?'

"When the time is ripe, yes," Brogan explained patiently. "He has the power of the military in his pocket, and he's shrewdly sought strong support from the moderate Muslim fundamentalists. In my opinion, Abu Hamid is a shoo-in."

"We could do much worse," murmured Oates with a thin smile. "He hasn't been above accepting favors and tapping some of the billions of dollars we've poured into Egypt. Abu Hamid would not be the type to kick a gift horse in the mouth. Oh, sure, he'd make the required noises condemning Israel and cursing the U.S., for the sake of the religious fanatics, but underneath the rhetoric he'd keep a friendly line of communications open."

"The fact that he's on close terms with Hala Kamfl won't hurt us either," Nichols said flatly.

The President was silent, staring into the glass of zinfandel as if it was a crystal ball. Then he raised the glass.

"To a continued friendly union with Egypt."

"Hear, hear," said Mercier and Brogan in unison.

"To Egypt," murmured Oates.

"And Mexico," added Schiller.

The President glanced at his watch and rose, followed by his advisers.

"Sorry to cut this short, but I have a meeting with a group of Treasury people. Congratulate everyone involved in rescuing the hostages for me." He turned to Oates. "I want to meet with you and Senator Pitt the minute he returns."

"To discuss any words he had with President Hasan during their ordeal?"

"I'd be more interested in hearing what he learned from President De Lorenzo on the crisis south of our border. Egypt is of secondary importance compared to Mexico. We can safely assume Akhmad Yazid has been benched for the rest of the season, but Topiltzin is a far worse threat. Concentrate on him, gentlemen. God help us if we can't stabilize the upheaval in Mexico."

Slowly, reluctantly, Pitt rose from the black depths of a sound sleep to the brightly lit surface of consciousness only to find it was accompanied by stiff, aching pain. He tried to go back and reenter the comforting void, but his eyes blinked open, and it was too late. The first thing he focused on was a smiling red face.

"Well, well, he's back among the living," said First Officer Fi

As Fi

"I'm sorry, Doctor, but I can't recollect your,

"Henry Webster," he second-guessed Pitt, smiling warmly. "And if you're wondering where you are, you're in the finest suite on board the Flamborough, which is currently under tow by the Sounder for Punta Arenas."

"How long have I been unconscious?"

"While you weremaking your report to Colonel Hollis, I was tending to your wounds. Soon afterward, I put you under heavy sedation. You've been out for about twelve hours."

"No wonder I'm starving."

"I'll see our chef personally sends down one of his specialties."

"How are Giordino and Findley?"

"Most admirable of you to inquire of your friends before yourself.

Giordino is a very durable man. I took four bullets from him, none in critical areas. He should be ready to party by New Year's Eve.

Findley's wounds were far more serious. Bullets entered his right side and lodged in a lung and kidney. I did what I could for him on the ship.

He and Giordino were airlifted to Punta Arenas and flown to Washington soon after I put you out. Findley will be operated on by bullet-wound specialists at the Walter Reed Medical Center. If there are no complications, he should pull through in fine shape. By the way, your friend Rudi Gu

Before Pitt could make a reply, a digital thermometer was slipped in and out of his mouth.

Dr. Webster studied the reading and nodded. "As for you, Mr.

Pitt-you'll mend nicely. How are you feeling?"

"I don't think I'm up to entering a triathlon, but except for a throb in my head and a stinging sensation in my neck, I'll manage."

"You're a lucky man. None of the bullets struck a bone, internal organ or artery. I stitched up your leg and neck, or, more accurately, your trapezius muscle. Also your cheek. Plastic surgery should hide the scar, unless of course your women find it adds to your sex appeal. The smack on your head caused a concussion. X-rays showed no sign of a hairline fracture. My prognosis is that you'll be swimming the English Cha

Pitt laughed. Almost immediately he tensed as the pain struck from every side. Webster's look became one of quick concern.

"I am sorry. My bedside ma

Pin relaxed and the agony soon subsided. He loved English phrasing and humor. They were a class act, he thought. He smiled grimly and stared at Webster with unconcealed respect. He knew the doctor had down played his skill and labors out of modesty.

"If that hurt," said Pitt, "I can't wait to get your bill."

It was Webster's turn to laugh. "Careful, I wouldn't want you to ruin my beautiful needlework."

Pitt gingerly eased himself to a sitting position and held out his hand.

"I'm grateful for what you did for the four of us."