"More surprises? Be still my heart."

Shine opened the trunk and they removed their belongings.

"Why are we leaving the car here?" Morgan asked, frowning.

"We're going in by the back door. I'd rather we see anyone before they see us," Kennedy said, hefting a bag over one shoulder.

He led them away from the paved road towards a shallow hill. Lightholler could see a bright glow through the trees ahead. Two spotlights were aimed skywards; their beams swung scouring the night, trying to pierce the heavy clouds the evening winds had gathered. As they crested the rise, Lightholler saw her and stopped dead in his tracks.

"She's the Shenandoah." Kennedy halted at his side. "What do you think?"

The massive airship lay nestled in a long wooden cradle in the small valley before them. It hadn't been visible from the transverse.

"When did they build the terminus?" Lightholler asked.

"Last year," Morgan replied.

They walked down the grassy knoll, the cigar-shaped dirigible growing before their eyes.

"How big is she?" Lightholler asked.

"Seven-hundred-and-ninety feet long," Kennedy said. "That's just a little shy of the Titanic. It's difficult to make out from here, but she carries two gondolas beneath her."

Lightholler thought he could see the living compartments suspended below the airship's massive frame. "I see them, fore and aft," he said finally. "But what's that between them?"

"She carries a hangar between and below the living quarters," Kennedy said. "It's a special feature of the Cavalier-class dirigibles. She's capable of accommodating up to five aircraft, with cargo. They can be released or taken aboard while in flight."

"But why?" Lightholler asked, astonished.

"I think they use them for supplying the stratolites," Morgan said.

"Impressive," Lightholler murmured. He could now see the details of the terminus that lay spread below the airship. It was surrounded by a high wire fence that enclosed the entire perimeter. The vehicles that raced around the building were playthings next to the Shenandoah's conspicuous bulk.

Lightholler's suitcase was becoming heavy in his arms. They were now about two hundred feet from the wire fence. He said, "There's a lot of traffic down there."

At least seven vehicles were arrayed beside the aft gondola. The soft thrum of the Shenandoah's engines was apparent now, it seemed to come from everywhere. He thought he could feel the vibration in the soles of his tired feet. He heard distant thunder punctuated by the occasional sound of a brittle crack.

"What's that smell?" Morgan asked.

Lightholler sniffed at the air. He watched as a vehicle broke away from the small motorcade and tore through the gates towards them. A small beam wavered in their direction as they stood in the penumbra of the terminal's floodlights. "So much for the back door," he muttered.

Hardas growled, "Get back." He dropped his bag, slipped a hand beneath his jacket flap and planted his feet.

Kennedy assumed a similar stance.

Lightholler glanced at both men, then back at the oncoming vehicle, obscured in the glare from the terminal beyond.

"Oh, shit," Morgan said.

Shine, down on one knee, was reaching into one of the suitcases.

The vehicle skidded to a halt, showering them with tufts of grass and soil. It was black with irregular grey shading on all of its steel-plated surface. Its turret swung lazily towards them, the muzzle of its cannon coming to bear on them. A black iron cross emblazoned the vehicle's side.

A goggled face emerged from the top of the half-track. "Hande hoch!"

All five men dropped what they were carrying. A machine-gun clattered at Shine's feet. Morgan looked at his companions, in shock. The others raised their hands slowly.

"Morgan, for God's sake put your hands in the air," Lightholler said under his breath.

"Sind Sie Amerikaner?" The soldier removed his goggles in a swift motion and clambered from the vehicle, dropping to the up-turned soil with a heavy thud.

Kennedy took a slight step forwards, peering at the insignia on the man's uniform. He said, "Jawohl, Herr Leutnant. Wir sind Amerikaner. Aus dem Suden."

What the hell was German armour doing in Central Park?

"Konfoderierte?" the German officer asked. "Confederates?"

"Jawohl, Herr Leutnant, wir sind Konfoderierte."

More soldiers were approaching from the terminal at a fast trot. The scene fell into focus. Distant thunder became the continuous low rumble of explosions, those brittle cracks, gunfire that had all but faded away.

The German stepped up to Kennedy. "Haben Sie papieren?"

"Jawohl, Herr Leutnant," Kennedy replied.

"Would someone mind telling me what the hell is going on?" Morgan whispered. Beads of sweat streamed down his face.

"Shut up," Hardas whispered back. "It'll be alright." He didn't sound convinced.

Black-garbed soldiers formed a semicircle around them. They held their weapons at waist level, machine-guns and rifles trained on the smaller group.

"Herr Leutnant," Kennedy said. "Gotterdammerung."

The officer narrowed his eyes.

Kennedy repeated the word: Gotterdammerung, Wagner's Twilight of the Gods.

Shaking his head slowly, the officer began to laugh. A slow, harsh, guttural sound. He turned then and spoke rapidly to the other soldiers before returning his gaze. "You are Joseph Kennedy, of course."

"Jawohl, Herr Leutnant," Kennedy replied. "Sprechen Sie Englisch?"

The officer nodded.

"May we put our arms down?" Kennedy asked.

"Certainly, Herr Major."

The German officer saluted Kennedy and then extended a gloved hand. "Tobias Freilich, Third Brandenburg Regiment."

Kennedy shook his hand.

"You were anticipated, Herr Major, however not so soon and not here."

"What's happening?" Morgan said.

"Many things," the German replied brusquely. He turned to include the others in his gaze. Ignoring Shine, he gave small nods of acknowledgment to Hardas and Morgan in turn. On reaching Lightholler he gave a slight bow. "Captain Lightholler. Thank you for ensuring our safe, if uncomfortable, passage."

"I beg your pardon?" Lightholler responded.

"Granted," the German replied.

"I don't understand." Lightholler became aware that his heart was beating, as the adrenaline rush subsided. His shirt clung to his arms and chest, damp beneath his creased suit jacket. He gave the officer a furtive once-over. He noted the windproof jacket, the respirator pouch, the crest at his collar: a wolf's head surmounting a jagged bolt of lightning.

You brought those fuckers halfway around the world and you didn't even know it.

"We have been advised to offer you and your men transportation, Herr Major," Freilich continued. "Retrieve your weapons, please. You must leave now though, if that is your wish."

"Now is fine," Morgan said. "Fine with me."

A soldier approached Freilich and spoke in his ear. Freilich turned to Kennedy. "The Japaner will be returning in force," he said. "There is not much time."

Hardas and Shine grabbed their bags. Morgan was stumbling around, bewildered. Hardas picked up the guns, glinting shards of starlight in the tall grass.

Kennedy faced Morgan and Lightholler. "Now. Come on. We have to go."

"You want to be here when the japs get back?" Hardas added as he pushed past Morgan.

Morgan swore to himself and picked up a suitcase.

Lightholler stumbled after the others. Freilich led them down to the captured terminus. The other soldiers fell in on either side.

Morgan's eyes were focused on the path before him. He said, "You have a lot of explaining to do, Major."

"You were expecting this?" Lightholler asked.

"Not entirely," Kennedy replied.

"But you knew the Germans were here."

"I knew they were in New York."

"You knew they were on my bloody ship," Lightholler snarled.

Kennedy increased his pace to match the officer. Lightholler sped up to join them. He wasn't finished with Kennedy yet. When they reached the wire perimeter fence, Freilich halted them, briefly, to let the armoured vehicle through the gates.

"You said you expected us, Herr Leutnant?" Kennedy asked, taking advantage of the moment.

"I was briefed that a party of covert operatives, under your command, was present in New York. We were ordered to offer you aid; transportation if possible." His smile was strained. "It just so happens that we have some transportation available." He gestured grandly at the Shenandoah, then ushered them along the vehicle's trail.

"Why now?" Kennedy asked. "Why tonight?"

Freilich stopped in his tracks. He snorted and shook his head. "Four hours ago an atomic device was detonated over Berlin."

"What?" Lightholler said. "How?" The questions were a shout in his mind; he wasn't aware that he'd spoken aloud. His ears were filled with voices.

"The Divine Wind," Morgan murmured. "The Japanese Imperial airship."

"That is our belief." Freilich arched an eyebrow appreciatively. "The High Command identified the airship's last known position as the epicentre of the blast. Of course, the Japaner deny all knowledge. Who would admit to such an act?" His voice was ground glass.

"Our first strike was directed against the barracks at Battery Park. We caught them in mid-celebration. They had been given the order to invoke martial law. In fact, they had been given a number of orders." His face twisted bitterly. "Now we give them a taste of martial law."

To one side, Lightholler saw fifteen, perhaps twenty men, Japanese soldiers, lined up near the wire fence. Five Germans stood before them, machine-guns raised. A cache of weapons lay in a small pile about twenty feet away. In the shadows near the terminal's entrance he could see three or four bodies splayed on the ground, their limbs at awkward angles.

"The Emperor's son was aboard that ship," Lightholler said. "He was to be the next Western Shogun."

"It would be considered a worthy sacrifice," Kennedy replied. "The Emperor has other sons."

They had reached the entrance to the forwards gondola.

"I still want to know what half the German army is doing in the middle of Central Park." Morgan glared at Kennedy and Hardas.

"Starting what we have to finish," Kennedy replied. "Any more questions?"

Morgan looked away.

Lightholler let his bag drop to his feet. A wave of exhaustion swept over him.

The airship's engines rose to a shrill whine. He was buffeted by occasional blasts of warm air as the turbines were rotated on their axles in preparation for departure.

Freilich addressed them all, his lips compressed in a disconcerting smile.

"The 1st Regiment has secured all of the bridges and tunnels leading out of Manhattan. Elements of the 2nd are now engaging units of the Shogun's Guard at the Summer Palace. The harbour is alight. We control all access in and out of the island. Reinforcements are on their way."

There was the explosive crump of mortar fire. It roared across the valley.

"God speed, Herr Major." Freilich turned away from the gondola.

Kennedy led the way up the ramp, Shine and Morgan in tow. Hardas brought up the rear. Lightholler, his foot on the gangway, was struck by a thought. He turned to Morgan.

"You called the Japanese airship the Divine Wind."

"That's the English translation of her name. Back in the 1200s, the Mongol hordes dominated Asia. They dominated the known world. They sent an armada to invade Japan but it never arrived. A typhoon laid the entire fleet to waste. The Japanese believed it was a gift from their gods, sent to destroy their enemies. They named it the Divine Wind. The Kamikaze."

VI.