Trojan Odyssey (50 page)

S
EPTEMBER
11, 2006
W
ASHINGTON
, D.C.

A
T NINE O'CLOCK
in the morning, three days after he and his offspring returned to his hangar, Pitt adjusted the tie to his sincere suit, as he called it, his one and only tailored black pin-striped suit with vest. Then he buttoned the vest and set an antique gold pocket watch in one pocket, draping a gold chain through a buttonhole with the weighted end going into a pocket on the opposite side. It was not often he wore the suit, but this was a very special day.

Specter had been apprehended by Federal marshals when his pilot made the mistake of landing in San Juan, Puerto Rico, for fuel during a flight to Montreal. He was served with a subpoena to appear and testify before a congressional committee that was investigating his shady mining operations within United States territory. The marshals took him into custody and transported him to Washington so there was no way he could flee to another country. Because his attempted operation to freeze North America and Europe took place outside the nation's jurisdiction in a foreign country, he was exempt from Federal prosecution. If anything, the committee had its hands tied. There was little hope of a legal victory. The most they could accomplish was to expose Specter's dealings and hamstring any of his future operations inside the United States.

Epona, however, had escaped the net and her whereabouts were totally unknown. She was another matter the committee planned to question Specter about.

Pitt made one last check in an antique upright mirror that had come from the first-class stateroom of an old steamship. His only departure from the rest of the Washington herd was a gray-and-white paisley tie. His thick black curly hair was neatly brushed and his green eyes were clear with their usual twinkle, despite the lack of sleep from an all-night tryst with Loren. He walked over to his desk and picked up the knife he'd taken from Epona on Branwyn Island. The hilt was encrusted with rubies and emeralds, the blade was thin and sharpened on both sides. He slipped it into the inside breast pocket of his coat.

He stepped down his ornate iron circular staircase to the floor filled with old land and air vehicles. A NUMA Navigator SUV stood in front of the main door. It was a big car to drive the busy streets of the capital, but he found it responsive and enjoyed the comfortable ride. The NUMA name and color also provided him with a government vehicle that provided parking places not available for personal cars.

He drove over the bridge into the core of the city and parked in a government-only parking area two blocks from the Capitol Building. Once he climbed the great staircase and entered under the dome, he followed Loren's instructions to the meeting room where the investigation was being held. Not wishing to pass through the doors open to journalists and the public, he walked through the corridors until he came to a Capitol security guard who stood beside the door reserved for the House of Representatives' committee, their aides and lawyers.

Pitt gave the guard a slip of paper and asked him to give it to Congresswoman Loren Smith.

“I'm not supposed to do that,” protested the guard in a gray uniform.

“It's extremely urgent,” said Pitt in an authoritative voice. “I have a pivotal piece of evidence for her and the committee.”

Pitt displayed his NUMA credentials to show the guard he was not someone who had walked in off the street. The guard compared the photo on the ID with his face, nodded, took the note and stepped into the committee room.

Ten minutes later, when there was a break in the questioning, Loren came through the door. “What's this all about?” she asked, her perfectly shaped brows raised.

“I have to get in the room.”

She looked at him, confused. “You could have come through the public doors.”

“I have an item which will expose Specter for what he is.”

“Give it to me, and I'll present it to the committee.”

He shook his head. “No can do. I have to present it myself.”

“I can't let you do that,” she countered. “You're not on the list of witnesses.”

“Make an exception,” he persisted. “Ask the chairman.”

She stared into the eyes she knew so well, looking for something but not finding it. “Dirk, I simply can't do that. You've got to tell me what it is you're doing.”

The guard was standing nearby, listening to the conversation. The door, normally locked, was standing slightly ajar. Pitt took Loren by the shoulders, turned her around in one swift motion and pushed her into the guard. Before they could stop him, he was through the door and walking rapidly along the aisle between the seated representatives and their aides. No one made any attempt to protest or restrain him from coming down the short stairway to the witness and audience floor. He stopped in front of the table where Specter was seated, surrounded by his high-priced attorneys.

Congressman Christopher Dunn of Montana pounded his gavel and called out, “You, sir, are interrupting a very important investigation. I must ask you to leave immediately or I will have the guards escort you out.”

“If you will indulge me, Congressman, I will set your investigation onto an entirely different track.”

Dunn motioned toward the guard who had chased Pitt into the room. “Remove him!”

Pitt pulled the knife from under this coat and extended it out toward the guard, who stopped dead in his tracks. Slowly, the guard began to reach for his gun, but hesitated when Pitt moved the knife within an inch of his chest.

“Indulge me,” he repeated. “Believe me, Congressman, it will be well worth your time to hear me out.”

“Who are you, sir?” Dunn demanded.

“My name is Dirk Pitt. I am the son of Senator George Pitt.”

Dunn mulled that over for a moment, then nodded at the guard. “Hold on. I want to hear what Mr. Pitt has to say.” Then he looked at Pitt. “Drop that knife. Then I'll give you exactly one minute to state your case. You'd better make it good or you'll be behind bars within the next hour.”

“You'd arrest the son of an esteemed senator?” asked Pitt facetiously.

“He's a Republican,” said Dunn with a crafty grin. “I'm a Democrat.”

“Thank you, Congressman.” Pitt laid the ornate knife on the table and moved until he was standing opposite Specter, who sat in silent calm, dressed in his white suit with his customary scarf draped around his lower face beneath dark sunglasses. “Will you please stand up, Mr. Specter?”

One of Specter's attorneys leaned over and spoke into the table's microphone. “I must protest most vigorously, Congressman Dunn, against this man who has no business in this room. Mr. Specter is under no legal obligation to acknowledge him.”

“Is Specter afraid?” said Pitt tauntingly. “Is he frightened? Is he a coward?” Pitt paused and stared at Specter provokingly.

Specter took the bait. He was too arrogant to ignore Pitt's insults. He put his hand on his attorney's arm to restrain him and slowly heaved his huge bulk up from his chair, until he stood, face unseen, the consummate riddle in an enigma.

Pitt smiled and gave a slight bow, as if in relaxed satisfaction.

Suddenly, before anybody realized what he was doing, he snatched up the knife and slashed the blade across Specter's stomach, slicing through the white suit up to the hilt.

Shouts from the men and screams from the women erupted and reverberated throughout the room. The security guard lunged toward Pitt, who stood ready and stepped aside, tripping the guard and sending him spilling onto the floor. Then he plunged the knife blade into the table in front of Specter and stood back, his expression one of extreme gratification.

Loren, who had leaped to her feet, shouting at Pitt, abruptly went silent. She was one of the first to see that Specter was not bleeding.

Blood and intestines should have flooded onto the surface of the table, but the white suit was unstained with crimson. Soon the hundred or more people who had come to their feet in shock began to notice the same phenomenon.

His face pale, Congressman Dunn stared down at Specter, pounding his gavel like a madman. “What is going on here?” he shouted.

No one interfered as Pitt stepped around the table, pulled off Specter's sunglasses and casually flipped them onto the floor. Then he reached up and pulled off Specter's hat and scarf and threw them on the table.

Everyone in the room gasped at seeing a great mass of red hair fall down around Specter's shoulders.

Pitt approached Congressman Dunn. “Sir, permit me to introduce Ms. Epona Eliade, also known as Specter, the founder of the Odyssey empire.”

“Is this true?” said a confused Dunn, coming to his feet. “Is this woman really Specter and not a disguised double?”

“She is the genuine article,” Pitt assured him. Then he turned to Epona. “Strange as it sounds, I've missed you,” he said, in a voice heavy with sarcasm.

She should have trembled like a mouse filled with fear at the sight of a snake. But she stood tall and did not answer Pitt. She didn't have to. Her eyes flashed, lips tightened, as her face filled with enough hate and contempt to launch a revolution. Then something totally inconceivable happened in the next macabre moment. The look of anger faded from the eyes and tightened lips as abruptly as they appeared. Slowly, very slowly, Epona began removing the knife-slashed white suit until she stood incredibly serene and beautiful in only a white formfitting silk dress that fell off the shoulders and stopped just below the hips, her red hair cascading past her bare shoulders.

It was a vision that the hearing room and the stunned audience would never witness again.

“You have won, Mr. Pitt,” she said, in a soft voice with just a trace of huskiness. “Do you feel triumphant? Do you believe you have accomplished a miracle?”

Pitt shook his head slowly. “Triumphant, no, and certainly no miracle. Gratified, yes. Your outrageous attempt to demoralize the lives of millions of people was despicable. You could have given your great advance in fuel cell technology to the world, and your tunnels under Nicaragua would have provided untold opportunities to reduce the time and cost of shipping cargo through the Panama Canal. Instead, you banded with a foreign nation to gain nothing more than wealth and power.”

He could see that she was the mistress of her emotions, and harbored no debate. She smiled a smile that seemed to portend something. No one in that room that day would forget the exotic, compelling creature who exuded a feminine magnetism that was indescribable.

“Pretty words, Mr. Pitt. But meaningless. Except for you, I might have changed the course of world history. That was the goal, the ultimate achievement.”

“Few will grieve that you failed,” Pitt said with a cold edge in his tone.

Only then did Pitt see the faint look of despair in her captivating eyes. She pulled herself erect and faced the congressional committee.

“Do with me what you wish, but be advised, it will be no small battle to convict me of any crime.”

Dunn pointed his gavel at two men seated in the back of the room. “Will the Federal marshals please step forward and take this woman into custody?”

Epona's lawyers immediately leaped to their feet, protesting that it was not in Dunn's power as a congressman to arrest anyone. He glared at them.

“This person has committed a crime in committing fraud in front of this committee. She shall be held until such time as the Attorney General's Office has a chance to review her criminal actions and take the proper legal action.”

As the marshals took Epona by the arm and began leading her from the hearing room, she stopped in front of Pitt and stared at him with an expression that was sardonic but oddly lacking anger. “My friends across the sea will never allow me to be prosecuted. We will cross paths again, Mr. Pitt. Nothing ends here. The next time we meet, you will fall into my web, make no mistake.”

Pitt brushed aside his wrath and gave her a cool and enigmatic smile. “Next time?” He posed it as a question. “I don't think so, Epona. You're not my type.”

The lips went taut with anger again. Her skin noticeably paled and her eyes lost their luster, as the marshals hustled her out a side door. Pitt could not help but admire her beauty. Few women could have made a dramatic exit after a fall from heights with such style and grace. Deep down, his stomach twisted with the thought that he would indeed cross paths with her another day.

Loren came down onto the witness floor and unashamedly hugged Pitt. “You crazy fool. You might have been shot.”

“Forgive the theatrics, but I figured now was the time and this was the place to expose the witch.”

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“Because, if I was wrong, I didn't want you involved.”

“You weren't sure?” she asked in surprise.

“I knew I was on solid ground, but not absolutely positive.”

“What put you on to her?”

“At first I was only working on a hunch. When I came here today, I was still only sixty percent certain. But once I came face-to-face with Specter, it seemed obvious to me that even sitting in his chair, the bulk of his weight wasn't distributed like a man who weighed four hundred pounds.” Pitt held up his hand and displayed the scar on his palm. “Then I recognized the ring on the index finger of the right hand that Epona used to cut me on Branwyn Island. That clinched it.”