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The priest cleared his throat to start the service, and Isabella feared the worst. But before he could utter a word, Phoebe raised her veil.

HELMUT SMILED WHEN PHOEBE RAISED HER VEIL PREMATURELY. IT had probably obstructed her view of his face. 'Hello, Phoebe,' he whispered.

She stared at him. Then she frowned and shook her head. 'I'm sorry, Helmut, I don't want to hurt you, but I can't go through with this. I don't love you.'

An audible gasp rose from the congregation.

Helmut didn't understand what she had said. It wasn't possible. 'What do you mean, you don't love me?' he said.

Phoebe spoke in a low, intimate whisper: 'I'm sorry, Helmut, but I don't even know who you are.'

He grabbed her arm and thrust his face inches from hers. 'Of course you know who I am. Look at my face, Phoebe. You love me. You adore me.'

'No, she doesn't, Helmut.'

Helmut turned - and saw Isabella Bacci stand up and walk to the dais, with Max beside her. This couldn't be happening. 'What are you doing here?'

'Izzy, is that you?' Phoebe said. 'Helmut told me you'd left.'

The congregation was now buzzing.

'He told you a lot of things that weren't true, Phoebe. Look at Helmut again. Do you recognize him as the man you love?'

Phoebe shook her head, but Helmut ignored her. 'Of course she does. She adores me.' As Isabella and Max approached the dais, white-hot rage pulsed through him. 'You can't stop Venus,' he hissed, in his low, rasping whisper. 'You're too late. It's already started.' He indicated the restless congregation, who were now openly talking among themselves. 'They already adore me.'

When Max spoke, his voice was as quiet as his father's. 'They're confused but theydon't adore you. Venus has been neutralized.'

'What are you talking about?'

Joachim stepped on to the dais. 'They're bluffing, Vati,' he murmured. 'There's no cure.'

'But why is Max here? You said he was secure in the boiler-house.'

Joachim frowned hard at Max. 'I thought he was.'

What do you mean, you thought he was? Can't you recognize your own brother?'

'No, he can't,' Max said, keeping his voice low. 'Apart from you, Isabella and me, no one here can recognize anyone's face -- not even yours, Vater.'

AS SHE FACED HELMUT KAPPEL, ISABELLA FELT RELIEF RATHER THAN triumph. Behind her, the congregation was muttering so loudly that even those straining to listen heard little.

'Joachim wasn't the only one to drug the toast last night,' she said. 'Everyone who toasted you last night not only drank Venus but also a test drug that causes temporary prosopagnosia. It's called Amigo Extract and I gave it to the guards as well.'

'Prosopagnosia? What are you talking about?'

'Even though they don't understand what's happening to them, everyone who drank the toast last night woke up this morning with temporary face-blindness.' As she watched the realization dawn on Helmut Kappel's face, she thought back to her last night in Phoebe's apartment. The thank-you card from little Sofia pinned to the board above her bed had made her wonder if Amigo Extract might undo the NiL drug's effects: the prosopagnosia folder her father had created for her had stressed the links between his face-obsessive love drug and her face-blindness research. Temporary prosopagnosia might break the spell. She had rushed to the hospital and raided her samples cupboard for a canister of the Amigo Extract tablets intended for the prosopagnosia trials. Phoebe had spilt the first dose she had prepared, but last night, while Helmut questioned Max, Isabella had spiked each toast with it, then helped Joachim deliver the glasses to the guests.

It had been a desperate gamble and she hadn't dared hope the tablets would succeed, especially as the Amigo Extract and Venus had been mixed in the same drink. It was only when she and Max had made their way to the chapel unrecognized, even though they had bumped into Klaus, that she had believed it might work. Phoebe's rejection of Helmut had confirmed their success.

'Helmut, your younger son designed his Tag Vector to meet safety regulations, and that was its Achilles heel,' Isabella said. 'If no one recognizes your face in the next forty-eight hours the infectious stage isn't triggered and Venus is neutralized. It will be flushed out of everyone's system and everything will return to normal. And, trust me, the Amigo Extract will keep these people face-blind long enough to neutralize Venus.'

Helmut scowled at her with disbelief, hatred and fury in his pale eyes.

'It's over,' Max said.

Helmut turned to Joachim. 'Tell me they're lying.'

Joachim was looking around in panic, as though searching for something.

'Speak to me, Joachim -- could they have done this?'

'Trust me, Van". It's not over yet. I won't let you down,' Joachim backed away and picked up an aluminium case from beside his seat. 'I'll show you, Vati. All is not lost.' He rushed out of the chapel shouting to the guards, 'Which one of you is Gustav? Who can fly the helicopter?'

MAXFELT NO TRIUMPH OR SATISFACTION AS HE WITNESSED HIS father's fury and his half-brother running from the chapel. He had known his father would never roll over and accept defeat. He pulled out his Glock and ran after Joachim. Whatever was in the case, he couldn't let Joachim leave with it.

He brushed past the Stasi guards on the door and chased his half-brother across the ice towards the helicopters. 'Don't do it, Joachim!' he yelled, as one of the guards by the Chinooks pulled the tarpaulin off the first helicopter and Joachim climbed aboard. 'You can't leave.'

The engine started and Joachim stood at the door, pointing a gun at Max. 'You don't tell me what to do, Max. You've ruined everything.'

Max stopped twenty yards from the helicopter and lowered his gun. 'It's not too late to end this madness. We can't let Vater get away with it. He drugged you, for Christ's sake. He doesn't love you, Joachim. He doesn't love me. He doesn't care about anybody except himself.'

Joachim smiled sadly. 'But I love him, Max. And I share his vision, whatever it is.' He held up the aluminium case. 'I've got more Venus in here. I'll give it to others. I'll wait till the prosopagnosia passes and drink more myself. I can still make Vati's vision come to pass. He can rely on me. And when it's done I'll sit at his right hand.'

'But you can't leave,' Max shouted, as the rotors roared into life, churning up the snow and drowning his words. He ran towards the helicopter but stopped when his foot hit one of the steel hawsers, frozen to the ground beneath the snow. 'The choppers aren't going anywhere,' he bellowed. 'Last night Isabella and I chained the landing runners.'

Oblivious to his cries the helicopter rose into the watery sky. It flew higher and higher and Max briefly thought it would escape. Then he saw the two hawsers unravel. When the first snapped taut the helicopter shuddered and jerked in mid-flight. As the second exerted its pull there was a tearing, grinding sound. For a moment it hung, suspended in the air, perfectly still apart from the whirring rotors. Then it fell in a flailing, helter-skelter spiral. It clipped the chapel's crystal dome, then crashed on to the lake, cracking the thick ice. One of the oil tanks exploded, and the aircraft burst into flames. Fissures appeared on the lake, running past the chapel and beneath it. As Max watched the helicopter grind through the ice and sink beneath the lake's freezing waters he felt a rush of sadness for his brother.

Panicked guests were streaming out of the chapel, down the red ribbon of carpet to the island. Fighting against the human tide, Max ran in the opposite direction, across the shifting ice. By the chapel doorway he saw Klaus and Odin, but no sign of his father or Isabella.

Inside, the chapel floor had been riven in two. An ever-widening crack cut across the ice, separating the front rows and the dais from the rest of the seats and the exit. Max could see water rushing beneath the fissure. In their desperate scramble for the exit, the bridesmaids and others in the wedding party leaped from the dais across the gap and streamed past him. Claire slipped on her high heels and slid back towards the water. Max grasped her hand, pulled her to her feet and shoved her towards the exit with the others.

His father was still standing on the dais like the captain of a doomed ship, with Phoebe and Isabella below him, poised to leap across the divide. Max locked eyes with him, but Helmut glared at him with such hatred and fury that Max almost didn't recognize him. 'Kill him!' his father yelled. 'Kill my son. The big man with the white hair. Shoot him.'

Max turned and saw one of the ex-Stasi fighting through the crowds, trying to reach his master. The guard raised his gun and fired at Max. The bullet missed by inches, and Max didn't hesitate: he shot the man twice in the chest. When he turned back to his father, Helmut had his knife in his hand and was reaching for Phoebe.

SECONDS EARLIER

WHAT WAS HAPPENING WAS SO FAR REMOVED FROM WHAT HELMUT Kappel had imagined that he still couldn't accept it. He looked down on the fleeing masses and felt contempt, disgust, and rage. Venus might have been postponed but it wasn't over. Dreams only ended when they came true.

And who had betrayed him? His own son. The boy he had raised to be the perfect Kappel. Just the sight of Max made the bile rise in his throat. He should have drowned him with his mother. As Max turned to shoot the Stasi, Helmut drew the assassin's knife from his ankle sheath, stepped down to the next tier and grabbed Phoebe's arm.

'It's finished, Vater,' Max shouted, jumping the divide. 'Joachim's dead and he took Venus with him. Face it, you've lost! It's over.'

Helmut ignored him. His destiny might have been postponed -but Phoebe had adored him before Venus. 'Where are you going, Phoebe?'

She tried to shake him off. 'Leave me alone. We've got to get out'

'You can't leave me. You're mine. You love me.'

'Get off me, Helmut. Please.' He saw fear in her eyes. And disgust.

He slapped her face. 'You adore me.'

A blow on his shoulder made him release her. He swivelled round to see that Isabella was about to hit him again. 'Leave her alone,' Isabella said. 'Come on, Phoebe, let's get out of here.'

'Out of the way, Isabella,' Max shouted, from the bottom of the steps, and levelled his gun at his father.

When he saw the look in Max's eyes, Helmut knew what he had to do. He pushed Phoebe down the steps, and pulled Isabella to him, pressing the knife blade to her throat.

Phoebe clambered to her feet and moved to help her friend, but Max restrained her. 'Phoebe, the ice is breaking up. Get out while you can. I'll handle this.'

'But--'

He pushed her across the widening crack in the ice. 'Go. Now.'

Max didn't look back as he walked, gun in hand, across the dais, towards his father.

'Shoot him, Max,' Isabella shouted. 'He murdered your mother. He murdered my father. Shoot him. Don't worry about me.'

'But that's the whole point,' Helmut whispered in her ear. 'Max does worry about you. Love has made him weak, Isabella. You have made him weak. I can control him through you.'

Helmut smiled, as he gazed at the love in his son's eyes. Today hadn't been a complete disaster. He still had the technology and Joachim's files. He would pay a scientist to make up the serum and keep it simple this time. He would simply inject the first people he came into contact with and let Venus spread from there. That had been his mistake: he had been too theatrical. But his dream could still become reality. And when it did, no one would care about what happened today.

First, though, he must punish Max and the interfering bitch who had spoilt his plans. He would make Max pay for his treachery by forcing him to watch his love die. Then he would kill him too.

'Put the gun down, Max, or I'll slit her throat.'

'DON'TYOU DARE DROP YOUR GUN!' ISABELLA SCREAMEDAT MAX.

She knew that Helmut Kappel would kill her as soon as Max dropped his weapon, but she saw indecision in Max's eyes. Max really did love her, she saw now, and his love for her outweighed his hatred of his father. That didn't help her, though. 'For Christ's sake, shoot him.'

'Quiet,' Helmut rasped, pressing the flat side of the cold blade so hard against her throat she could barely swallow. 'The steel is millimetres from your jugular. You're a doctor -- you must know that if I turn the blade you'll bleed to death in seconds. I've done this before. I know what I'm talking about.'

She stared at Max, willing him to be the killer he had been and not the man he was trying to become. For some seconds, father and son faced each other, saying and doing nothing. Then there was a sharp crack behind her and she felt the ice dais shift beneath her feet. Momentarily unbalanced, Helmut slackened his grip and the blade lifted from her skin. In that instant, she was centimetres rather than millimetres from death. With all her strength, she thrust backwards and pushed Helmut away from her.

He was too quick, though, and as she rolled out of his grip and fell to the ice he swung the knife in a downward arc, slicing her left cheek, the reindeer coat and her shoulder. She registered no pain in her face as the blade cut through the soft flesh but white-hot agony shot down her arm as she fell on to the ice. Instinctively she reached for her shoulder with her right hand and tried to staunch the blood. When her fingers pushed through the incision in the tough reindeer pelt and disappeared into the deep, sticky wound, she knew the tendons had been severed. Her arm hung useless by her side. Blood blurred her left eye as she saw Helmut Kappel move nearer. Time seemed to slow and she noticed that the knife blade in his hand was still gleaming. All she could think of was how sharp the curved steel must be: it had sliced through her face and arm so cleanly and quickly that there was no blood on it. She tried to get up. She had to get away from that blade.