Homer Crawford said finally, evenly, "In the expectation that every follower of El Hassan in the Sahara will either surrender or die of thirst, eh?" He didn't seem sufficiently impressed by the threatening disaster. He looked at Dave questioningly. "Why do you bother to tell us, Dave, if you're on the other side?" Dave grunted sour amusement. "Because I've just become a full member of the team. I resigned from the Party tonight." "Brother," Bey said, "you sure pick a helluva time to join up." He obviously was expressing the opinions of the majority. Homer Crawford came to his feet and looked around at them. "All right," he said. "A new complication. Let's face up to it. There's always an answer. We're in the clutch, let's fight our way out." Largely, they stared at him, but he ignored their dismay. He looked from one to the other. "We need some ideas. Let's kick it around. Isobel, Cliff, Jack, Kenny--?" His eyes went from one to the other. Obviously his own mind was churning. They shook their heads dumbly. Kenny said, "Ideas! We've had it, Homer!" Homer Crawford spun on him and now the force they all knew was emanating from him. He laughed his scorn. "A month ago we were half a dozen fugitives. Now we're an army besieging a city. And you say we've had it? Listen, Kenny, if we have to we'll go back to being half a dozen fugitives again--those of us that are left. But the dream goes on! However, we're not going to have to. We're too near victory in this stage of the operation to sit down on the job because of a threatened reverse. Now then, let's kick it around. Jimmy! Dave! Kenny! Ostrander!" Fredric Ostrander raised his eyebrows only slightly at being included in their number. * * * * * Bey, for once, was seemingly too exhausted to be brought to new enthusiasm. He tossed a detail map of Tamanrasset to the table. "And I'd just worked out a bang-up scheme for infiltrating into town, joining up with our adherents there, and seizing it while most of Ibrahim's men were out in the desert, trying to capture our nearer water holes." Homer snapped, "It sounds like it still might have possibilities." Ostrander looked down at the map, his face very tight. "How long would it take?" Bey scowled at him, defeat dulling his mind. "What?" "How long do you figure it would take to infiltrate Tamanrasset and capture it? Behind Ibrahim's back, so to speak." Bey grunted. "A couple of hours in the early morning. I had a beautiful picture of the colonel's armor out in the desert, cut off from its petroleum supplies and ammunition dump while we held the town. Some of our men, the former veterans of the French West African forces, could have even operated the antitank guns he has mounted at Fort Laperrine." The C.I.A. man's mouth worked. Homer Crawford's eyes pierced him. Ostrander walked over to the radio before which Kenny Ballalou sat. "See if you can raise Colonel Ibrahim for me." Kenny scowled at him. "Why?"