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  "Do you know much about him?"

  "Not a great deal. Only what I've read in intelligence reports. His grandfather was a big Nazi who escaped Germany at the end of the war. He came here with his family and a group of Nazi cronies, along with their top scientists and engineers. Soon after arriving in Argentina, they established a huge financial conglomerate within less than two years, buying and operating the largest farms and ranches, banks and corporations in the country. Once their power base was solidified, they branched out internationally into everything from chemicals to electronics. One can only guess where the original capital came from. Rumors say it was gold from the German treasury and assets stolen from the Jews who died in the camps. Whatever the source, it must have been a tremendous hoard to have accomplished so much in so little time."

  "What can you tell me about the family?"

  Horn paused to order a martini from the bartender. "Mostly rumors. My Argentinian friends speak in hushed tones whenever the Wolfs come up in conversation. It's been reported that Dr. Josef Mengele, the `Angel of Death' at Auschwitz, was involved with the Wolfs until he drowned several years ago. The stories, I admit, sound pretty outlandish. But they claim that Mengele, continuing his genetic experiments, worked with the first generations of Wolfs in producing offspring with high intelligence and exceptional athletic ability. These children then produced an even more controlled strain, which you see in the extraordinary likenesses in all the third generation of Wolfs, such as Karl and his sisters, who, by the way, all look identical to their brothers and cousins. One outlandish bit of gossip is that Adolf Hitler's sperm was smuggled out of Berlin in the closing hours of the war and used by Mengele in impregnating the Wolf women."

  "Do you believe all this?" Pitt asked.

  "I certainly don't want to," said Horn, sipping at his martini. "British intelligence is mum on the subject. But my embassy intelligence officer, Major Steve Miller, using a computer, has compared photos of Hitler with those of the Wolfs. As abhorrent as it sounds, except for hair and eye color, there is a marked resemblance in facial structure."

  Pitt straightened and extended his hand. "Ambassador, I can't tell you how grateful I am for your invitation and protection. Coming to Buenos Aires was a wild scheme, and you were very generous with your time in helping me to meet Karl Wolf."

  Horn gripped Pitt's hand. "We were lucky the Wolfs showed up for the party. But I have to tell you that it was a real pleasure to see someone tell that arrogant devil where to get off. Because I'm a diplomat, I couldn't afford the luxury of doing it myself."

  "He claims the timetable's moved up, that now there's only four days until Armageddon. I should think the family will soon be boarding their superships."

  "Really? That's odd," said Horn. "I have it on good authority that Karl is scheduled to make an inspection tour of his mineral retraction facility in Antarctica the day after tomorrow."

  Pitt's eyes narrowed. "He's cutting it pretty thin."

  "That project has always been a bit of a mystery. As far as I know, the CIA has never been able to get an agent inside."

  Pitt smiled at Horn. "You're certainly abreast of intelligence matters, Ambassador."

  Horn shrugged. "It pays to keep one's fingers in the pie."

  Pitt swirled the tequila in his glass and stared thoughtfully at the liquid curling around the ice cubes. What is so important in Antarctica that Wolf has to squeeze in a visit, Pitt wondered. It seemed to him that the new leader of the Fourth Empire would be flying toward his fleet in preparation for the big event instead of to the polar continent. Getting there and back would take two days. It didn't figure.

  33

  The following day, twenty-seven of the two-hundred-member Wolf dynasty, the dominant principals of Destiny Enterprises and the chief architects of the Fourth Empire, met at Destiny's corporate offices. They assembled in the spacious boardroom with its teak-paneled walls and handsomely carved forty-foot-long conference table, also carved from teak. A large oil painting of Ulrich Wolf hung above the mantel of a fireplace at one end of the room. The family patriarch stood ramrod-straight in a black SS uniform, jaw thrust out, black eyes staring at some distant horizon beyond the painting.

  The twelve women and fifteen men waited patiently while being served fifty-year-old port from crystal glasses. At precisely ten o'clock, Karl Wolf stepped from the chairman's suite and took his seat at the end of the table. For a few moments, his gaze swept the faces of his brothers, sisters, and cousins seated expectantly around the table. His father, Max Wolf, sat at his left. Bruno Wolf was to his right. Karl Wolf's lips were parted in a slight smile, and he looked to be in a cheerful mood.

  "Before we begin our final meeting in the office of Destiny Enterprises and our beloved city of Buenos Aires, I should like to express my admiration for the way you and your loved ones have accomplished so much in so little time. Every member of the Wolf family has performed far beyond expectations, and we should all be proud that none has proved a disappointment."

  "Hear, hear," exclaimed Bruno. The chant was taken up around the table, accompanied by a round of applause.

  "Without my son's leadership," announced Max Wolf, "the great crusade, conceived by your grandfathers, could never have achieved fulfillment. I am proud of your eminent contribution to the coming new world order and elated that our family, with the blood of the Fuhrer flowing through your veins, is now on the verge of making the Fourth Reich a reality."

  More applause erupted around the table. To a stranger, everyone in the room, with the exception of Max Wolf, looked as if he or she had been cloned. The same facial features, body build, eyes and hair- it was as if the boardroom had become a hall of mirrors.

  Karl shifted his eyes to Bruno. "Are those who are not present here today on board the Ulrich Wolf?"

  Bruno nodded. "All family members are comfortably settled in their residence quarters."

  "And the supplies and equipment?"

  Wilhelm Wolf raised a hand and reported. "Food stocks have been loaded and stored aboard all four vessels. All ship's personnel are on board and accounted for. Every piece of equipment and all electronic systems have been tested and retested. They all function perfectly. Nothing has been left to chance or overlooked. Every contingency has been considered and alternatives prepared. The ships are in total readiness for the onslaught of even the strongest tidal waves anticipated by our computer projections. All that is left is for the rest of us to fly to the Ulrich Wolf and wait for the resurrection."

  Karl smiled. "You will have to go without me. I will follow later. It is critical that I oversee the final preparations at our mining operation at Okuma Bay."

  "Do not be late," said Elsie, smiling. "We might have to sail without you.

  Karl laughed. "Never fear, dear sister. I have no intention of missing the boat."

  Rosa raised her hand. "Did the American scientist decipher the Amenes inscriptions before she escaped the ship?"

  Karl shook his head. "Unfortunately, whatever information she discovered, she took with her."

  "Can't our agents retrieve it?" asked Bruno.

  "I fear not. She is too well protected at the American Embassy. By the time we devised a plan and mounted an operation to seize her again, it would be too late. The deadline would be upon us."

  Albert Wolf, the paleoecologist of the family, who was an expert in ancient environments and their effects on primeval plant and animal life, motioned to speak. "It would have been most beneficial to have studied a narrative by those who lived through the last cataclysm, but I believe our computer projections have given us a fairly accurate picture of what to expect."

  "Once the ships are swept into open water," said Elsie, "our first priority is to ensure that they are rigidly sealed against all contamination from ash, volcanic gases, and smoke."

  "You may rest easy on that problem, cousin," said Berndt Wolf, the family's engineering genius. "The ship's interiors are designed to become completely airtight in a matter of se
conds. Then specially constructed filtering equipment takes over. All systems have been exactingly tested and have proven one hundred percent efficient. A pure, breathable atmosphere for an extended period of time is a confirmed reality."

  "Have we decided on what part of the world we will come ashore after it's safe to do so?" asked Maria Wolf.

  "We're still in the process of accumulating data and calculating projections," answered Albert. "We must determine exactly how the cataclysm and tidal waves will alter the world's coasts. It will be mostly a matter of analyzing the situation after the havoc has abated."

  Karl glanced down the table at his kinsmen. "Much will depend on how the landmasses have changed. Europe may become inundated as far as the Urals in Russia. Water may fill the Sahara Desert. Ice will cover Canada and the United States. Our first priority is to survive the onslaught and wait patiently before deciding on where to establish a headquarters city for our new world order."

  "We have several sites under consideration," said Wilhelm. "The prime considerations are a port, such as San Francisco, where we can moor the ships, preferably a location with nearby land suitable for growing crops and orchards, and a centralized area that facilitates transportation and the spread of our authority around the new world. Much will depend upon the extent of the cataclysm."

  "Do we have any idea how long we must remain on board the ships before we can venture ashore?" asked Gerda Wolf, whose expertise was education and who had been chosen to supervise the fleet's school systems.

  Albert looked at her and smiled. "Certainly no longer than we have to, my sister. Years will pass, but we have no way of predicting exactly how long it will take before we can safely begin our conquest of the land."

  "The people who survive on high ground?" queried Maria. "How will we treat them?"

  "There will be pitifully few," replied Bruno. "Those who we can find and round up will be placed in secure areas to cope as best they can."

  "We're not going to assist them?"

  Bruno shook his head. "We cannot weaken our own food supplies before our people have the opportunity to subsist off the land."

  "In time, except for those of us of the Fourth Reich," said Max Wolf, "the rest of mankind will become extinct. Survival of the fittest. That is the way of evolution. It was ordained by the Fuhrer that a master race would someday govern the world. We are that master race."

  "Let us be honest, Uncle," said Felix Wolf. "We are not fanatical Nazis. The Nazi party died with our grandparents. Our generation pays homage to Adolf Hitler only for his foresight. We do not worship the swastika or shout `Heil' in front of his picture. We are our own race, created to rid the present world of crime, corruption, and disease by establishing a higher level of mankind- one that will build a new society free from the sins of the old one. Through our genes, a new race will emerge, pure and untouched by the evils of the past."

  "Well said." Otto Wolf spoke, after sitting quietly through the conference. "Felix has eloquently summed up our purpose and commitment. Now all that is left is for us to carry our great quest through to a triumphant conclusion."

  There came a few moments of silence. Then Karl folded his hands and spoke slowly. "It will be most interesting to see the conditions around us this time next year. It will indeed be a world inconceivable to those who will have gone."

  34

  A small enclosed truck, painted white with no logo or advertising on its sides, rumbled past the terminal of the Jorge Newbery city airport, located within the federal district of Buenos Aires, and came to a stop under the shade of a maintenance hangar. The airport normally served Argentina's domestic airlines, including those that operated out of Paraguay, Chile, and Uruguay. None of the flight line workers seemed to take notice of a turquoise executive jet with "NUMA" boldly outlined on its fuselage, as it landed and taxied to the hangar where the truck was waiting.

  Three men and a woman came through the passenger door and stepped down to the concrete, which was heated by the noonday sun. Just as they were about to reach the maintenance office door of the hangar, they veered around the corner and approached the truck. When they were thirty feet away, the rear door opened and four United States Marines in battle gear jumped to the ground and formed a perimeter around the vehicle. The sergeant in command then helped Congresswoman Smith, Admiral Sandecker, Hiram Yaeger, and a third man enter the truck before reclosing the door.

  The interior of the truck was a comfortably furnished office and command post. One of fifty constructed specifically for American embassies around the world, it was designed to protect and aid embassy personnel to escape their compound in the event of attack, such as the abduction and hostage situation in Iran during November of 1979.

  Pitt stepped forward and embraced Loren Smith, who was shown aboard first. "You gorgeous creature. I wasn't expecting you."

  Pat O'Connell felt a stab of jealousy at seeing Pitt with his arms around Loren. The congresswoman from Colorado was far more attractive than she had imagined.

  "The admiral asked me to come, and there were no pressing votes on the floor, so here I am, even if it is for only a few hours."

  "A pity," he said sincerely. "We could have done Buenos Aires."

  "I would have liked that," she replied in a husky tone. Then she saw Giordino. "Al, it's good to see you."

  He gave her a peck on the cheek. "Always a pleasure to see my government at work."

  Sandecker climbed in, followed by Yaeger and the stranger. He merely nodded at Pitt and Giordino. He walked directly to Pat O'Connell. "You don't know how happy I am to shake your hand again, Doctor."

  "You don't know how happy I am to be here," she said, kissing him on the forehead, to his obvious embarrassment. "My daughter and I are in your debt for sending Dirk and Al to rescue us."

  "I didn't have to send them," he said wryly. "They would have gone on their own."

  Yaeger greeted his old friends and Pat, who was introduced to Loren for the first time. Then Sandecker introduced Dr. Timothy Friend. "Tim is an old school pal. He helped me pass algebra in high school. When I went to the Naval Academy, he went to the Colorado School of Mines for a degree in geophysics. Not content with that, he obtained his Ph.D. in astronomy at Stanford, and became one of the country's most respected astronomers and director of the government's Strategic Computing and Simulation Laboratory. Tim is a wizard of innovative visualization techniques."

  Friend's bald head was encircled by wisps of gray hair, like a school of silverfish swimming around a coral dome. A short man, he had to tilt his head back slightly to gaze up at the two women, who were considerably taller. Giordino, who stood five feet four, was the only one he could look straight in the eye. A quiet man among friends, he became outgoing and lively when lecturing before students, directors of corporations, or high government officials. It was easy to tell that he was in his element.

  "Would you all care to sit down?" said Pitt, motioning to comfortable leather chairs and sofas spaced in a square in the center of the truck's cargo area. Once they were seated, an embassy staff member served coffee and sandwiches from a small galley behind the cab.

  "Loren asked to come along," said Sandecker, without preamble. "She and her congressional aides investigated Destiny Enterprises and came up with some intriguing information."

  "What I found in the past two days is quite worrisome," Loren began. "Very quietly, under astounding secrecy, the Wolf family and Destiny Enterprises have sold every business, every one of their shares in national and international corporations, every financial holding, all bonds, all stocks, all real estate, including every stick of furniture in their homes. All bank accounts have been cleaned out. Every asset large and small has been liquidated. Billions of dollars were converted into gold bullion that was transported to a secret location-"

  "Where it is now stored in the cargo compartments of their fleet of ships," Pitt finished.

  "It's as though the entire family of two hundred members has never existed."


  "These are not stupid people," Pitt said convincingly. "I find it inconceivable that they are capable of irrational judgment. So is there a comet coming, or isn't there?"

  "The very reason I've asked Tim to come along," explained Sandecker.

  Friend laid out several small piles of papers on a table between the chairs and sofas. He picked up the first one and leafed through it before consulting his notes. "Before I answer that, let me go back a bit, so you can understand what the Wolfs have been preparing for. I think it best to begin with the comet's impact on earth sometime around seven thousand B.C. Fortunately, this is not an event that occurs on a regular basis. Although Earth is struck daily, it's by small asteroid fragments no larger than a fist that burn up upon entry into the atmosphere. About every century, one approximately a hundred and fifty feet in diameter strikes Earth, such as the one that produced the crater in Window, Arizona, and the other that exploded before impact in Siberia in 1908 that plastered eight hundred square miles. Once every million years, an asteroid half a mile wide strikes with a force equal to detonating every nuclear device on Earth simultaneously. Over two thousand of these big celestial missiles cross our orbit on a regular schedule."

  "Not a pretty picture," said Pat.

  "Don't lose any sleep over it," Friend said, smiling. "Your odds of dying from an asteroid are twenty thousand to one during your lifetime. We can't, however, discount the logical possibility that it's only a question of time before our luck runs out."

  Pitt poured a cup of coffee. "I assume you're talking about a really stupendous bang."

  "Indeed," said Friend, nodding vigorously. "Once every one hundred million years, a mammoth asteroid or comet strikes Earth, like the one that smacked into the sea off Yucatan sixty-five million years ago and caused the extinction of the dinosaurs. This impact came from an object six miles in diameter that left a crater one hundred and twenty miles wide."