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“When the Hispano-Suiza pulled alongside, Pitt walked over and introduced himself as the driver stepped from behind the wheel to recheck his hood latches. "I guess we'll be competing against each other. My name is Dirk Pitt." The driver of the Hispano, a big man with greying hair, a white beard, and blue-green eyes, stuck out a hand. "Clive Cussler." Pitt looked at him strangely. "Do we know each other?" "It's possible," replied Cussler, smiling. "Your name is familiar, but I can't place your face." "Perhaps we met at a party or a car club meet." "Perhaps.” — Clive Cussler
When the Hispano-Suiza pulled alongside, Pitt walked over and introduced himself as the driver stepped from behind the wheel to recheck his hood latches.
"I guess we'll be competing against each other. My name is Dirk Pitt."
The driver of the Hispano, a big man with greying hair, a white beard, and blue-green eyes, stuck out a hand. "Clive Cussler."
Pitt looked at him strangely. "Do we know each other?"
"It's possible," replied Cussler, smiling. "Your name is familiar, but I can't place your face."
"Perhaps we met at a party or a car club meet."
"Perhaps.