And then the leader of the African Army of Revolution melted into the darkness like a shadow.
At two thousand feet Steiger made a slight adjustment in pitch and the Minerva dipped over the Jefferson Memorial and crossed the Tidal Basin on a course along Independence Avenue.
"It's crowded up here," he said, motioning to a bevy of Army helicopters hovering from one end of the Capitol mall to the other like a swarm of mad bees.
Sandecker nodded and said, "Better keep your distance. They're liable to shoot first and ask questions later."
"How long since the Iowa's last shot?"
"Nearly eighteen minutes."
"Maybe that's the end of it, then," said Steiger.
"We won't land until we're sure," Sandecker replied. "How's the fuel?"
"Enough for nearly four more hours' flying time."
Sandecker twisted in his seat to relieve his aching buttocks. "Stay as close as you dare to the National Archives building. If the Iowa cuts loose again, you can bet that's the target."
"I wonder how Pitt made out?"
Sandecker put up an unworried front. "He knows the score. Pitt is the least of our problems." He turned away and looked out a side window so Steiger couldn't see the lines of worry that creased his face.
"I should have been the one to go in," said Steiger. "This is strictly a military show. A civilian has no business risking his life attempting a job he wasn't trained for."
"And you were, I suppose."
"You must admit my credentials outweigh Pitt's."
Sandecker found himself smiling. "Care to bet?"
Steiger caught the admiral's cagey tone. "What are you implying?"
"You've been had, Colonel, pure and simple."
"Had?"
"Pitt carries the rank of major in the Air Force."
Steiger looked over at Sandecker, his eyes squinting. "Are you going to tell me he can fly?"
"Just about every aircraft built, including this helicopter."
"But he claimed-"
"I know what he claimed."
Steiger looked lost. "And you sat back and said nothing?"
"You have a wife and children. Me, I'm too old. Dirk was the logical man to go."
The tenseness went out of Steiger's body and he sagged into his seat. "He better make it," he murmured under his breath. "By God, he better make it."
Pitt would have gladly given the last penny in his savings account to be anyplace but climbing a pitch-black stairway deep inside a ship that at any second might turn into an inferno. His brow was clammy and cold with sweat, as though he were running a fever.
Suddenly Fawkes stopped and Pitt ran into him like a blind man against an oak tree.
"Please remain where you stand, gentlemen." The voice came from the lightless landing several steps above. "You cannot see me, but I can see enough of you both to strike your hearts with a bullet."