Johnny wasn't through with the Malian officer. "There's a hundred of
them," he snapped, "with several thousand head of goats and other
livestock. It would have been impossible to push that number across
from Mauritania or even from the east, and you know it."
A lighter complexion would have shown a flush. Mohammed Mohmoud's
displeasure was limited in expression to a flashing of desert eyes. He
said, "Wherever their origin, the task would seem to be immediately to
destroy the animals. That is why my men and I are here."
Pierre Marimbert had entered while the conversation was going on. He
said, "Johnny, weren't you going over to In Ziza with me?"
Hélène Desage said, the tip of her right forefinger to her chin as she
portrayed thought, "I can't decide where to go. To this crisis of the
Tuareg, or to the crisis of the pumps--whatever that is."
Johnny said flatly, "Sorry, but you'd just be in the way at either
place."
Mohammed Mohmoud was shrugging. "Why not let her come with me? I can
guarantee her protection. I have brought fifty men with me, more than a
match for a few bedouin."
"Gracious," she said. "Evidently I was unaware of the magnitude of this
matter. I absolutely _must_ go."