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Reaching over, he pointed to a bulbous shape near the bottom of the page that extended off the edge.
Theresa leaned over and studied it carefully.
"That looks like a classic, not to mention nicely sized, anticlinal trap," she said, referring to the dome-shaped layer of sediments. The cusp of a sedimentary dome like the one before her was a flashing red light for geophysicists, as it is a prime spot for petroleum deposits to accumulate.
"Nicely sized, indeed," Wofford replied. Pulling over a stack of similar profiles, he spread several on the table. "That particular trap stretches nearly forty kilometers. There's six other smaller ones I've found in the same region."
"It certainly looks like the right conditions for a deposit."
"You never know until the drill gets wet, but from these images, it looks pretty promising."
"And there's six more? That's a tremendous reserve potential."
"At least six more. I haven't digested all the reports yet, but it is mind-boggling. Taking a stone's throw from the image, there might be two billion barrels potentially sitting in that one trap alone. Add in the others and you could have over ten billion barrels. And that's just for one field. No telling how much is in the entire region."
"Incredible. Where is the field located?"
"That's the hitch. Someone has carefully removed all geographic references from the data. I can only tell that it is subterranean, and that the surface topography is flat with a predominant sandstone base."
"You mean we might be looking at the next North Sea oil fields and you don't know where they are located?"
"I haven't a clue."
***
Sarghov laughed between sips from a cup of tea, his big belly jiggling with each guffaw.
"Charging through the night on a forklift, toting an Avarga security guard through the air," he chuckled.
"You Americans always have such a flair for dramatics."
"It wasn't the understated exit I would have preferred," Pitt replied from across the cafe table, "but Al insisted we ride, not walk."
"And we still nearly missed last call." Giordino smirked before sipping his morning coffee.
"I'm sure management is scratching their heads, wondering why a pair of Westerners were waltzing around their facility. A shame you didn't find any evidence that our oil survey friends had been there."
"No, the only item of interest was the tu
"It is possible the machine was stolen and brought into the country surreptitiously. Mongolia does not have easy access to high technology. Perhaps the company does not want the government to be aware of its technological equipment."
"Yes, that could be true," Pitt replied. "I would still like to know what it was that they hauled away from Baikal under wraps."
"Alexander, have there been any developments in the abduction investigation?" Giordino asked before biting into a buttered roll.
Sarghov looked up to see Corsov enter the busy cafe situated across from Sukhbaatar Square. "I shall let our local expert address that question," he said, standing and greeting his embassy friend. Corsov smiled his toothy grin and pulled a chair up to the table.
"I trust everyone had a comfortable night?" he said to Pitt and Giordino.
"Just until the vodka wore off," Pitt gri
"Ivan, we were just discussing the investigation. Has there been any news on the official front?" Sarghov asked.
"Nyet," Corsov said, his jovial face turning solemn. "The National Police have still not been assigned the case. The investigative request is being held up in the Justice Ministry. My apologies, I misspoke when I said that Avarga Oil has no influence within the government. It is clear that a bribe is in effect at some level."
"Every hour might count for Theresa and the others," Giordino said.
"Our embassy is doing everything they can through official cha
Sarghov drained the rest of his tea and set down the empty cup. "I'm afraid there is little more that we can ask of Ivan. The Mongol authorities often work on their own time frame. They will ultimately respond to the continued inquisitions from our embassy, despite whatever bribes are impeding the investigation. It may be best if we step back and wait for the bureaucratic hurdles to be cleared before any further action.
As it is, I must return to Irkutsk to file a report on the damage to the Vereshchagin. I have gone ahead and booked airline tickets for the three of us this afternoon."
Pitt and Giordino looked knowingly at Corsov, then turned to Sarghov.
"Actually, we have already made alternate travel plans, Alexander," Pitt said.
"You are returning directly to the United States? I thought perhaps you would return to Siberia and collect your comrade Rudi first."
"No, we're not going to the United States, or Siberia, just yet."
"I don't understand. Where is your intended destination?"
Pitt's green eyes glimmered as he said, "A mystical place called Xanadu."
-20-
Corsov's intelligence network paid off again. Though the central government in Ulaanbaatar had taken a hard turn toward democracy after the fall of the Soviet Union, there was a sizeable communist minority opposition in the government ranks, many of whom still harbored pro-Moscow sentiments. It was a low-level analyst in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs that had notified Corsov about the pending Chinese state visit. But it was Corsov who had recognized it as a golden opportunity for Pitt and Giordino.
The Chinese minister of commerce was arriving on short notice, ostensibly to tour a new solar energy plant recently opened at the edge of the capital city. Yet the bulk of the minister's time was scheduled for a private visit with the head of the Avarga Oil Consortium, at his secluded residence southeast of Ulaanbaatar.
"I can put you in the motorcade, which will get you past Borjin's front door. The rest will be up to you,"
Corsov had told Pitt and Giordino.
"No offense, but I don't see how anyone is going to buy us being part of the Chinese delegation,"
Giordino said.
"They won't have to, because you'll be part of the Mongolian state escort."
Giordino wrinkled his brow at what seemed to be a small difference.
Corsov explained that a formal reception was pla
"So we are joining the Mongolian Secret Service?" Pitt asked.
Corsov nodded. "Ordinary officers of the National Police actually fill the roles. It took only a modest enticement to have you inserted as replacement security escorts. You will swap places with the real guards at the solar energy plant and follow the procession to Xanadu. As I told you, I would gladly use my own operatives for the assignment."
"No," Pitt replied, "we'll take the risk from here. You have gone out on a limb for us as it is."