Temple

And then as quickly as it had risen, the massive wall of light began to subside and dissipate. Soon it lost all of its forward momentum and sank back into the distance,

“van Lewen took a final look back at the singed and smoking jungle river behind him. He saw a wispy black smoke cloud rising into the sky above the treetops—but it was broken up quickly by the sheets of subtropical rain that had just begun to fall.

It was then, however, that he looked about himself and realized that his Scarab and Doogie's Goose were the only vessels left on the river.

In fact, the only other remnant of the chase just concluded was a small white speck disappearing over the trees ahead of them.

The white Bell Jet Ranger helicopter.

FIFTH MACHINATION

Tuesday, January 5, 1815 hours

THE MADRE DE DIOS GOLDMINE

TOP VIEW

Path

Refuse Pit

Foliage Foliage

CROSSECTION

Bat-house Of Control Booth Suspension

'Who are you!' Otto Ehrhardt demanded in German slapping Renee hard across her face.

“I told you!' she yelled back at him. 'My name is Renee Becker and I am a special agent with the Bundes Kiminal Amt;'

The white helicopter was now flying low over the river, heading east. Race and Renee sat in the rear compartment, handcuffed. Before them sat Ehrhardt, Anistaze and Crater- face. A lone pilot was up front flying the chopper.

Ehrhardt turned to face Race. 'So who, then, are you?'

He's American—' Renee said.

Ehrhardt hit her again. Hard.

'I wasn't addressing you.' He turned back to Race. 'Now, who are you? FBI? Or are you Navy? A SEAL team, perhaps—

hell, you must be SEALs to take out our boats like that 'We're DARPA,' Race said.

Ehrhardt frowned. Then he began to chuckle softly.

'No, you're not,' he said, leaning forward sticking his round fleshy face right in front of Races.

Race thought he was going to be sick.

Ehrhardt was disgusting, vile—obese to the point of being grotesque, reeking of body odour and possessed of an evil moonlike face. A thin string of saliva smacked between his lips when he spoke and his breath smelled like horseshit.

'I'm working with Doctor Frank Nash,' Race aid, trying desperately to remain calm. 'He's a retired Army colonel working with the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency in conjunction with members of the United States y.'

Frank Nash, eh?' Ehrhardt said, breathing his foul, rancid breath all over Race's face.

'That's right,

'And who, then, might you be Little Man Trying To Be So Brave?' he said, as he lifted Race's Yankees Cap off his head.

'My name is William Race' Race said; grabbing his cap with his cuffed hands. 'I'm a professor of ancient languages at NOW York University.'

'And' Ehrhardt said, nodding, 'so you are the one they brought along to translate the manuscript. Very good, very good; Before I have you killed, Mister William Race, professor of ancient languages at New York University, I would like to correct a certain mis-impression that you appear to possess.'

And what is that?'

'Fank Nash is not with DARPA.'

'What?; Race said frowning.

'And he most certainly is not a retired Army colonel, either. On the contrary, he is most active indeed; For your information, Colonel Francis K. Nash is the head of the United States Army's Special Projects Unit,'

'What?'

Race didn't got it Why would Nash say he was DARPA when in fact ho want?

Ah-ha!' Ehrhardt cackled, clapping his hands, 'I love to see the look of betrayal on a man's face just before he is about to die,'

Race was thoroughly confused now,

He didn't know what to think.

Even if Nash Wasn't with DARPA what did it matter?

The Supernova was an Army project and Nash was with Army Special Projects,

Unless,..

Ehrhardt turned to Anistaze, 'So, the American Army is here too, What do you say about that?'

'There must be another mole' Anistaze said, ignoring Race and Renee entirely.

'i DA -IA?' Ehrhardt said.

Anistaze nodded. 'We know of the link to the American terrorist group, but we didn't know about this—-'

'Bah!' Ehrhardt waved his hand dismissiveiy. 'It is of importance now, because it is we who have the idol;'

'What do you hope to achieve by all this?' Renee asked defiantly 'Do you want to destroy the world?'

Ehrhardt smiled at her indulgently. 'I do not want to destroy the world, Fraulein Becket. Far from it. i want to rebuild Re-order it, the way it should be.'

'With what? One hundred billion dollars, i that what this is all about? Money?'

'My dear Fraulein Becker is that the limit of you vision?

Money. This is not about money. It is about what money cam do. One hundred billion dollars—bah—it is nothing, it is but a means to an end.'

'And what is the end?'

Ehrhardt's eyes narrowed, 'One hundred billion dollars will buy me a new world;'

'A new world?'

'Brave Fraulein Becket, what do you think I want? A new country, perhaps? To pursue the tired old Nazi goal of establishing an Aryan nation with the Herrenvolk at the head and the untermenschen beneath them? Bah!”

'What is it that you want, then? How can you buy you self a new world?'