Which hadn't changed.

"But Oberhauser fell out of favor. p.i.s.sed Hitler off. So he was silenced and shunned. His ideas abandoned."

Ramsey pointed to the rocks. "Apparently he was right. There was something to find."

"You read the file. You were there. Tell me, what do you believe?"

"We didn't find anything like this."

"Yet the United States spent millions of dollars to send nearly five thousand men to Antarctica. Four men died during that venture. Now eleven more are dead and we've lost a hundred-million-dollar submarine. Come now, Ramsey. Think."

He didn't want to disappoint this man who'd shown so much confidence in his abilities.

"Imagine a culture," Dyals said, "that developed tens of thousands of years before anything we know. Before the Sumerians, the Chinese, the Egyptians. As tronomical observations and measurement, weights, volumes, a realistic concept of the earth, advanced cartography, spherical geometry, navigational skills, mathematics. Let's say they excelled in all these centuries before we ever did. Can you imagine what they may have learned? Dietz Oberhauser told us that his father went to Antarctica in 1938. Saw things, learned things. The n.a.z.is were total fools-pedantic, parochial, arrogant-so they couldn't appreciate what all that meant."

"But it seems, Admiral, that we too suffered from ignorance. I read the file. The conclusions from Highjump were that these stones, here in the warehouse, were from some sort of ancient race, perhaps an Aryan race. Everybody seemed concerned about that. It seems we bought into the myth the n.a.z.is formulated about themselves."

"We did, which was our mistake. But that was a different time. Truman's people thought the whole thing too political to deal with publicly. They didn't want anything around that lent any credence to Hitler or the Germans. So they stamped TOP SECRET on the whole Highjump venture and sealed everything away. But we did ourselves a great disservice."

Dyals pointed ahead, at a closed steel door. "Let me show you what you never saw while you were here."

Ramsey now faced the same door.

A refrigerated compartment.

The one he'd entered thirty-eight years ago for the first and only time. That day Admiral Dyals had issued him an order-one he'd followed ever since-leave him alone. That order had now been rescinded but, before he acted, he'd come to make sure they were still here. That order had now been rescinded but, before he acted, he'd come to make sure they were still here.

He grasped the latch.

FORTY-SIX.

AACHEN.

MALONE AND C CHRISTL DESCENDED TO GROUND LEVEL. THE BAG that held the guidebooks lay on an unmolested wooden chair. He found one of the booklets and located a translation of the Latin mosaic. that held the guidebooks lay on an unmolested wooden chair. He found one of the booklets and located a translation of the Latin mosaic.

IF THE LIVING STONES SHOULD FIT TOGETHER IN UNITY IF THE NUMBERS AND DIMENSIONS SHOULD CORRESPOND THEN THE WORK OF THE LORD WHO ERECTED THIS GREAT HALL WILL s.h.i.+NE BRIGHTLY AND GRANT.

SUCCESS TO THE PIOUS ENDEAVORS OF MAN WHOSE WORKS ALWAYS REMAIN AS AN EVERLASTING ORNAMENT IF THE ALMIGHTY ADVISER PROTECTS AND WATCHES OVER IT SO MAY G.o.d LET THIS WHOLE TEMPLE EXIST ON THE FIRM FOUNDATION LAID BY EMPEROR CHARLES.

He handed the pamphlet to Christl. "Is this right?" He'd noticed in the restaurant that a few of the other books contained translations, each one slightly different.

She studied the text, then scanned the mosaic, comparing back and forth. The body lay a few feet away, limbs contorted at odd angles, blood on the floor, and they both seemed to pretend that it wasn't there. He wondered about the gunshots, but doubted with the thickness of the walls and the wind outside that anyone had heard. At least no one had come to investigate so far.

"It's correct," she said. "A few minor variations, but nothing that changes the meaning."

"You told me earlier that the inscription is original, only it's a mosaic instead of paint. The chapel's consecration-which is another word for 'sanctification.' Clarify this pursuit by applying the angel's perfection to the lord's sanctification. Clarify this pursuit by applying the angel's perfection to the lord's sanctification. The number twelve is the angel's perfection, from Revelation. This octagon was a symbol of that perfection." He pointed at the mosaic. "Could be every twelfth letter, but my guess is count every twelfth word." The number twelve is the angel's perfection, from Revelation. This octagon was a symbol of that perfection." He pointed at the mosaic. "Could be every twelfth letter, but my guess is count every twelfth word."

A cross signified where the inscription began and ended. He watched as she counted.

"Claret," she said, coming to twelve. Then she found two more words in the twenty-fourth and thirty-sixth positions. Quorum. Deus. Quorum. Deus. "That's all. The last word, "That's all. The last word, velit, velit, is number eleven." is number eleven."

"Interesting, wouldn't you say? Three words, the last stopping at eleven so there'd be no more."

"Claret quorum deus. Brightness of G.o.d." Brightness of G.o.d."

"Congratulations," he said. "You just clarified the pursuit."

"You already knew, didn't you?"

He shrugged. "I tried it at the restaurant with one of the translations and found the same three words."

"You could have mentioned that, along with the fact we were being followed."

"I could have, but you could have mentioned something, too."

She tossed him a perplexed look, but he wasn't buying, so he asked, "Why are you playing me?"DOROTHEA STARED AT HER MOTHER. "YOU KNOW WHERE C CHRISTL is?" is?"

Isabel nodded. "I watch over both of my daughters."

She tried to keep her features placid, but a growing anger complicated the task.

"Your sister teamed up with Herr Malone."

The words stung her. "You had me send him away. You said he was a problem."

"He was and still is, but your sister spoke with him after he met with you."

A feeling of worry pa.s.sed into foolishness. "You arranged that?"

Her mother nodded. "You had Herr Wilkerson. I gave her Malone." Her body seemed numb, her mind paralyzed.

"Your sister is in Aachen, at Charlemagne's chapel, doing what needs to be done. Now you must do the same."

Her mother's face remained impa.s.sive. Where her father had been carefree, loving, warm, her mother stayed disciplined, distant, aloof. Nannies had raised both Christl and her, and they'd always craved their mother's attention, competing for what little affection there was to enjoy. Which she'd always thought accounted for much of their animosity-each daughter's desire to be special, complicated by the fact that they were identical.

"Is this just a game for you?" she asked.

"It is far more than that. It is time my daughters grow up."

"I despise you."

"Finally-anger. If that will keep you from doing stupid things then by G.o.d hate me."

Dorothea had reached her limit and advanced toward her mother. But Ulrich stepped between them. Her mother held up a hand and stopped him, as she would a trained animal, and Henn stepped back.

"What would you do?" her mother asked. "Attack me?"

"If I could."

"And would that obtain what you want?"

The question halted her. Negative emotions ebbed away, leaving only guilt. As always.

A smile crept onto her mother's lips. "You must listen to me, Dorothea. I have truly come to help."

Werner watched with a tempered reserve. Dorothea pointed his way. "You killed Wilkerson and now have given me him. Does Christl get to keep her American?"

"That would not be fair. Though Werner is your husband, he's not a former American agent. I'll deal with it tomorrow."

"And how do you know where he'll be tomorrow?"

"That's just it, child. I know precisely where he'll be and I'm about to tell you.""YOU HAVE TWO MASTER'S DEGREES, YET E EINHARD'S WILL WAS A problem for you?" Malone asked Christl. "Get real. You already knew all of this." problem for you?" Malone asked Christl. "Get real. You already knew all of this."

"I won't deny that."

"I'm an idiot for getting myself in the middle of this disaster. I've killed three people in the past twenty-four hours because of your family."

She sat in one of the chairs. "I was able to solve the pursuit to this point. You're right. It was relatively easy. But to someone living in the Dark Ages it was probably insurmountable. So few people then were literate. I have to say, I was curious to see how good you were."

"Did I pa.s.s?"

"Quite well."

"But only those who appreciate the throne of Solomon and Roman frivolity shall find their way to heaven. That's next, so where to?" That's next, so where to?"

"Whether you believe me or not, I don't know the answer. I stopped at this point three days ago and returned to Bavaria-"

"To await me?"

"Mother called me home and told me what Dorothea was planning."

He needed to make something clear. "I'm here only because of my my father. I stayed because somebody is upset that I got a peek at that file, and that reaches straight to Was.h.i.+ngton." father. I stayed because somebody is upset that I got a peek at that file, and that reaches straight to Was.h.i.+ngton."

"I didn't factor into your decision in any way?"

"One kiss does not make a relations.h.i.+p."

"And I thought you enjoyed it."

Time for a reality check. "Since we both know this much of the pursuit, we can now solve the rest separately."

He headed toward the exit doors, but stopped at the body. How many people had he killed through the years? Too many. But always for a reason. G.o.d and country. Duty and honor.

What about this time?

No answer.

He stared back at Christl Falk, who sat unconcerned.

And he left.

FORTY-SEVEN.

CHARLOTTE, 5:20 PM.

STEPHANIE AND E EDWIN D DAVIS HUDDLED IN THE WOODS FIFTY yards from Herbert Rowland's lakeside house. Rowland had arrived home fifteen minutes ago and hurried inside carrying a pizza box. He'd immediately come back out and retrieved three logs from the woodpile. Smoke now puffed from a rough-hacked stone chimney. She wished they had a fire. yards from Herbert Rowland's lakeside house. Rowland had arrived home fifteen minutes ago and hurried inside carrying a pizza box. He'd immediately come back out and retrieved three logs from the woodpile. Smoke now puffed from a rough-hacked stone chimney. She wished they had a fire.

They'd spent a couple of hours during the afternoon buying additional winter clothes, thick gloves, and wool caps. They'd also stocked up on snacks and drink, then returned and a.s.sumed a position where they could safely watch the house. Davis doubted the killer would return before nightfall, but wanted to be in position just in case.

"He's in for the night," Davis said, keeping his voice to a whisper.

Though the trees blocked a breeze, the dry air was chilling by the minute. Darkness crept slowly over them in an almost amoebic flow. Their new clothes were all hunter's garb, everything high-tech insulated. She'd never hunted in her life and had felt odd purchasing the stuff at a camping supply store near one of Charlotte's upscale shopping malls.

They nestled at the base of a stout evergreen on a bed of pine needles. She was munching a Twix bar. Candy was her weakness. One drawer of her desk in Atlanta was filled with temptations.

She was still unsure they were doing the right thing.

"We should call the Secret Service," she said in a hushed whisper.

"You always so negative?"

"You shouldn't dismiss the idea so quickly."

"This is my fight."

"Seems to be mine now, too."

"Herbert Rowland is in trouble. There's no way he'd believe us if we knocked on the front door and told him. Neither would the Secret Service. We have nothing for proof."

"Except the guy in the house today."

"What guy? Who is he? Tell me what we know."