Derek nodded. "I'm simply saying that even if we could blame our minor
sabotage on the Tuareg in the past, we can't do it this time. There's
money behind anything this big."
Johnny McCord said wearily, "Let's eat. In the morning we'll go out and
take a look. I'd better call Timbuktu on this. If nothing else, the
Mali Federation can send troops out to protect us."
Derek grunted. "With a standing army of about 25,000 men, they're going
to patrol a million and a half square miles of desert?"
"Can you think of anything else to do?"
"No."
* * * * *
Pierre Marimbert began dishing _cous cous_ into a soup plate, then
poured himself a glass of _vin ordinaire_. He said, "I can't think of a
better place for saboteurs. Twenty men could do millions of dollars of
destruction and never be found."
Johnny growled, "It's not as bad as all that. They've got to eat and
drink, and so do their animals. There are damned few places where they
can."