Treasure

"Is that bad?" asked Ammar with an i

Yazid gave him a cold stare. "The man is a pro-Western charlatan, too cowardly to give up American aid. All that matters to him are his precious jets, helicopter gunships and tanks. He fears Egypt will go the way of Iran. The idiot insists on an orderly transition of governments so loans from world banks and financial aid from America will keep pouring in,"

Them He paused, gazing directly into Ammar's eyes, as if daring his prize assassin to contradict him again. Ammar remained silent. The stifling room began to close in on him.

"Abu Hamid also demands my promise that Hala Kamil will remain SecretaryGeneral of the United Nations," Yazid added.

"Yet you ordered me to eliminate her," Ammar said, curious.

Yazid nodded. "Yes, I wanted the bitch dead because she is using her position in the U.N. as a platform to voice her opposition to our movement and turn world opinion against me. Abu Haniid, however, would have slammed the door in my face if she'd been openly assassinated-the reason why I counted on you, Suleiman, to remove her with an unquestionable accident. Regrettably, you failed. You managed to kill everyone on board the aircraft except Kamil."

The last words fell like a hammer. Ammar's outward calm disintegrated.

He looked up at Yazid in blank confusion.

"She lives?"

Yazid's eyes went cold. "The news broke in Washington less than one hour ago. The plane crashed in Greenland. Every U.N. passenger except Kamil and all but two of the crew were found dead from poison."

"Poison?" Ammar murmured skeptically.

"Our paid sources in the American news media have confirmed the report.

What were you thinking of, Suleiman? You assured me the plane was supposed to vanish in the sea."

"Do they say how it reached Greenland?"

"A flight steward discovered the bodies of the flight crew. With help from a Mexican delegate, he took over the controls and managed to crash-land in a fjord on the coast. Kamil might have died from exposure, cutting you off the hook, but an American naval vessel happened to be crusing nearby. They responded almost immediately and saved her life."

Ammar was stu

Yazid stood qtuetly for a few moments, then broke Ammar's concentration.

"You realize, of course, I will be accused of this mess."

"There is no evidence tying me to the disaster or me to you," Ammar said firmly.

"Perhaps, but call it guilt by motive. Speculation and rumor will convict me in the Western news media. I should have you executed. "

Ammar wiped his mind clear and shrugged indifferently. "That would be a sad waste. I'm still the best eliminator in the Middle East."

"And the highest paid."

"I'm not in the habit of charging for unfinished projects."

"I would hope not," said Yazid acidly. He abruptly spun and walked toward the hanging carpet. He reached out and pulled it back with his left hand, paused and turned back to Ammar. "I must prepare my mind for prayer. You may go, Suleiman Aziz Ammar."

"And Hala Kaniil? The job is unfinished."

"I am turning her removal over to Muhammad Ismail."

"Ismail," Ammar grunted. "The man is a cretin."

"He can be trusted."

"for what, cleaning sewers?"

Yazid's hard, cold eyes stared at Ammar menacingly. "Kamil is no longer your concern. Remain here in Egypt near my side. My faithful advisers and I have another project to advance our cause. You will have an opportunity to redeem yourself in the eyes of Allah."

Before Yazid could enter the archway, Ammar rose to his feet. "The Mexican delegate who helped fly the aircraft. Was he also poisoned?"

Yazid turned and shook his head. "The report states he was killed in the crash."

Then he was gone and the carpet dropped back.

Ammar settled on the stool again. Slowly the revelation broke through the mists of the enigma. He should have been maddened, but there wasn't the slightest feeling of anger. Instead, an amused smile curled under his mustache.

"So there were two of us," he mused aloud to the empty room. "And the other one poisoned the in-flight meal service." Then he shook his head in wonderment. "Poison in the Beef Wellington. My god, how quaint."

At first no one paid any attention to the tiny blur that crept across the outer edge of the sidescan sonar's recording paper.

Six hours into the search they had found several manmade objects. Parts of the downed aircraft that were pinpointed for retrieval, a sunken fishing trawler, bits and pieces of junk thrown over by fishing fleets seeking shelter in the fjord from storms, all were identified by video camera and eliminated.

The last anomaly was not resting on the bottom of the fjord as expected.

It sat inside a small inlet encircled by sheer cliffs. Only one end protruded into clear water; the rest was buried under a wall of ice.

Pitt was the first to realize its significance. He was sitting in front of the recorder, surrounded by Giordino, Commander Knight and the archaeologists. He spoke into a transmitter.

"Swing the fish, bearing one-five-zero degrees."

The Polar Explorer was still stationary in the icebound fjord. Outside on the pack a team led by Cork Simon had augered through the ice and lowered the sensing unit into the water. Very slowly they swung the fish, as they called it, sca

Simon acknowledged Pitts command and twisted the cable until the fish's sonar probes were trained at 150 degrees.

"How's this?" he queried.

"You're right on target," Pitt replied from the ship.

Seen from a better angle the target became more distinct. Pitt circled it with a black felt pen.

"I think we've got something."

Gronquist moved in closer and nodded. "Not much showing to identify.

What do you make of it?"

"Pretty vague," answered Pitt- "You have to use some imagination since most of the object is covered by ice that has fallen from the surrounding cliffs. But the part that shows underwater suggests a wooden ship. There's a definite angular shape coming together at what might be a high, curving sternpost. "

"Yes," said Lily excitedly. "High and graceful. Typical of a fourth-century merchant ship."

"Don't get carried away," cautioned Knight. "She could be an old sail-rigged fisherman."

"Possibly." Giordino looked thoughtful. "But if my memory serves me correctly, the Danes, Icelanders and Norwegians who have fished these waters over the centuries sailed in more narrow beamed double-enders."

"You're right," said Pitt. "The sharp bow and stern were handed down from the Vikings. What we're seeing here might also be a double-ender, but with a broader sweep."

"Can't get a clear picture through the ice-covered section of the hull,"

said Gronquist. "But we could drop a camera back of the stern in clear water for a better identification."