Valhalla Rising (Dirk Pitt 16)

"I wonder what they'll think when they see you looking like that," he said, pointing a finger at the smoking jacket that barely covered her body.

"I'll just peek around the door."

Pitt relaxed and finished the pasta. He was just taking a final sip of wine when Loren's voice came over the intercom.

"Dirk, I think you should come down."

There was something in the tone of her voice that struck him as peculiar, almost as if she was hesitant to speak. He dropped down the spiral staircase and walked past his collector cars to the entrance door of the hangar. Loren was standing partially hidden behind the three-quarters-open door, talking to the young couple.

They both looked to be in their early twenties. There was a distinct presence about the man. His hair was black and wavy, and he was a good inch taller than Pitt. Their build and weight seemed nearly identical. The eyes were also a mesmeric opaline green. He glanced at Loren, who stood and stared at the young couple, spellbound. He gazed more deeply at the man's face and stiffened. It was as if he was looking into a magic mirror that reflected himself when he was twenty-five years younger.

He forced his attention from the man to the woman, and a strange tingling sensation coursed through his body and his heart increased its beat. She was quite beautiful, tall and lithe with long, flaming red hair. She stared back at Pitt through pearl gray eyes. Memories came flooding back, and he had to grasp the door frame to keep his knees from sagging.

"Mr. Pitt." The young man spoke in a deep voice. It was a statement, not a question.

"I'm Pitt."

Loren shivered as the young man smiled a smile that she had seen so often on Pitt's lips.

"My sister and I have waited a long time to meet you. Twenty-three years, to be exact."

"Now that you've found me, how can I help you?" Pitt asked, as if afraid of the answer.

"Mother was right. We do look alike."

"Your mother?"

"Her name was Summer Moran. Our grandfather was Frederick Moran."

Pitt felt as if a vise were crushing his heart. He barely got it out. "She and her father died in an underwater earthquake off Hawaii many years ago."

The young woman shook her head. "Mother survived, but she was critically injured. Her legs and back were crushed and her face badly disfigured. She never walked again and was confined to bed for the rest of her life."

"I can't, no, I won't believe it." The words came as if they were spoken through a veil. "I lost her in the sea when she swam back to save her father."

"Believe me, sir," said the young lady, "it's true. After she "was badly injured by an undersea rockfall, Mother was saved by my grandfather's men, who carried her to the surface where they were soon rescued by an island fishing boat. She was rushed to a hospital in Honolulu, where she hovered between life and death for nearly a month. Unconscious most of the time, she was unable to tell the doctors and nurses who she was. Finally, over a year later, when she had recovered enough to be released, she returned to her family home on the island of Kauai, where she resided until her death. Fortunately, Grandfather left her a substantial estate, and she received wonderful care from a staff of housekeepers and nurses."

"Were you and your brother born before her injuries?" asked Loren, clutching the smoking jacket around her body.

The woman shook her head. "She gave birth to us in the hospital a week shy of nine months later."

"You're twins?" Loren gasped, stunned at the difference in looks between them.

The young woman smiled. "We're fraternal. It isn't unusual for nonidentical twins to differ. My brother looks like my father. I took after my mother."

"She never tried to contact me?" Pitt asked grievously.

"Mother was sure that if you had known, you would have rushed to her side. She didn't wish you to see her pitifully broken body and disfigurement. She wanted you to remember her as she was."

Undeserved guilt and utter confusion swept over Pitt. "God, if I had only known." The memories of Hawaii came flooding back. Summer had been a breathtakingly gorgeous woman, and she still haunted his dreams.

"It's not your fault," said Loren, squeezing his arm. "She felt she had a good reason for keeping the secret."

"If she's still alive, where is she?" Pitt demanded. "I want to know."

"Mother died last month," answered the young man. "She was in very poor health near the end. She was buried on a hill overlooking the ocean. She willed herself to live until my sister and I graduated from college. Only then did she tell us about you. Her last wish was that we meet."

"And why was that?" Pitt asked, though he was sure of the answer.