"They've also created a race of superior humans," said Sandecker. "Through genetic engineering, the new generation of Wolfs not only resemble each other in appearance but their physical anatomy and characteristics are identical. They have the minds of geniuses and an extraordinary immune system that enables them to live extremely long lives."

Hozafel stiffened visibly, and his eyes took on a look of deep dread. "Genetic engineering, you say? One of the canisters that was transported aboard my U-boat was kept frozen at all times." He drew a deep breath. "It contained the sperm and tissue samples taken from Hitler the week before he killed himself."

Sandecker and Little exchanged tense looks. "Do you think it's possible Hitler's sperm was used to procreate the later generation of Wolfs?" asked Little.

"I don't know," said Hozafel nervously. "But I fear it is a distinct prospect that Colonel Wolf, working with that monster at Auschwitz known as the Angel of Death, Dr. Joseph Mengele, may have experimented with Hitler's preserved sperm to impregnate the Wolf women."

"There's an abhorrent thought if I ever heard one," muttered Little.

Suddenly a muted tone interrupted the conversation. Sandecker punched the speaker b.u.t.ton on a phone in front of him on the coffee table.

"Is anyone home?" came Pitt's familiar voice.

"Yes," Sandecker answered tersely.

"This is the Leaning Pizza Tower. You called in an order?"

"I did."

"Did you want salami or ham on your pizza?"

"We would prefer salami."

"It's going in the oven. We will call when our delivery boy is on his way. Thank you for calling the Leaning Pizza Tower."

Then the line cut off and a dial tone came through the speaker.

Sandecker pa.s.sed a hand across his face. When he looked up, his eyes were strained and grim. "They're inside the shipyard."

"G.o.d help them now," Little murmured softly.

"I don't understand," said Hozafel. "Was that some sort of code?"

"Satellite phone calls are not immune to interception by the right equipment," explained Little.

"Does this somehow have to do with the Wolfs?"

"I do believe, Admiral," Sandecker dropped his voice and answered slowly, "that it's time you heard our side of the story."

30

PITT AND GIORDINO HAD no sooner stepped through the door of the toolshed than a voice in Spanish hailed them from around the corner of the building.

Giordino calmly replied and made empty motions with his hands.

Evidently satisfied with the answer, the guard went back to walking his beat around the toolsheds. Pitt and Giordino waited a moment, then moved out onto the road that led toward the heart of the shipyard.

"What did the guard say, and what did you answer?" asked Pitt.

"He wanted a cigarette, and I told him we didn't smoke."

"And he didn't challenge you."

"He did not."

"Your Spanish must be better than I thought. Where did you learn it?"

"Haggling with the vendors on the beach at my hotel in Mazatlan," Giordino answered modestly. "And when I was in high school, I was taught a few phrases by my mother's cleaning girl."

"I'll bet that wasn't all she taught you," Pitt said ironically.

"That's another story," said Giordino, without missing a beat.

"From now on, we'd better lay off English when we're within earshot of the shipyard workers."

"Out of curiosity, what kind of side arm are you packing?"

"My old tried-and-true Colt .45. Why do you ask?"

"You've carried that old relic ever since I've known you. Why don't you trade it in for a more modern piece?"

"It's like an old friend," Pitt said quietly. "It's saved my tail more times than I can count." He nodded at the bulge in Giordino's coveralls. "How about you?"

"One of the Para-Ordnance 10+1s we took off those clowns at the Pandora Mine."

"At least you have good taste."

"And it was free, too," Giordino said, smiling. Then he nodded toward the main buildings of the shipyard. "Which one are we heading for?"

Pitt consulted his compact directional computer, whose monitor was programmed with the layout of the shipyard. He looked up the road running adjacent to the docks on one side and bordered on the other by giant metal warehouses. He pointed at a twenty-story building rising above the warehouses a good mile up the road. "The tall building on the right."

"I've never seen a shipbuilding facility this big," said Giordino, staring over the giant complex. "It beats anything in j.a.pan or Hong Kong."

They stopped suddenly and stared at the nearest supership, like yokels from the boondocks, heads tilted back looking up at their first view of tall city buildings. An executive jet aircraft whined in on its approach before flaring out and touching down on the long landing deck atop the behemoth. The sounds of the engines echoed across the water, up the slopes of the mountains, and back again. The sight was staggering. Even the most sophisticated Hollywood special effects could not come close to replicating the real thing.

"None of the shipyards around the world have the capacity to build ships this grand," said Pitt, standing and gazing overwhelmed at the gargantuan ship moored along the dock, its hull seeming to stretch nearly to infinity. No single building on earth, including the twin towers of the World Trade Center in New York placed end to end, could have matched the inconceivable size of the Wolfs' ark.

Except for the great bow, the vessel did not resemble a ship. Rather, it looked like a modern skysc.r.a.per laid on its side. The entire superstructure was sided in armored and tinted gla.s.s with the strength of low-alloy steel. Gardens with trees could be seen on the other side of the gla.s.s, flourishing amid rock gardens set in large parklike atmospheres. There were no promenade or outer decks or balconies. All the decks were completely enclosed. A conventional pointed bow swept up the superstructure on a gradual angle to the landing deck in what Pitt recognized as an apparent strategy to reduce the crushing impact of a giant tidal wave.

He observed the stern of the ship with more than a pa.s.sing interest. Beginning at the waterline, twenty parallel pierlike projections that Pitt reckoned to be two hundred feet in length extended astern, beneath a high roof supported with fifty-foot-high Grecian-sculpted pillars. The piers doubled as shrouds for the ship's propellers and as piers to moor fleets of powerboats, hydrofoils, and hovercraft. Wide staircases and gla.s.s elevators rose from the forward end of the piers into the main superstructure. Improbable as it seemed, the gigantic vessel had its own marina, where boats could be moored and lifted from the water between the piers when the ship was under way.

Pitt studied the thousands of workers who crowded the docks and open decks. The operation to fit out and supply the ship seemed to be in a frenzied rush. Towering cranes rolled on rails up and down the dock, lifting wooden crates into huge open cargo hatches set into the hull. The spectacle was too unreal to grasp. It seemed unbelievable that these floating cities were never meant to sail through the fjord and reach the sea. Their primary purpose was to survive great tidal waves before being carried by the backwash into deep water.

There was no slinking in the shadows, because the bright lights eliminated them. Pitt and Giordino walked leisurely along the wide road quay, waving to an occasional pa.s.sing guard, who didn't give them a second look. Pitt quickly observed that most of the workers moved around the immense facility and the ships in electric golf-type carts. He began looking around for one, and soon spied several parked in front of a large warehouse.