Pitt was down on the main floor in coveralls replacing the shattered windshield on the Duesenberg. Before she greeted him, Julia's gaze swept over the immaculate machinery on the spacious floor below.

She did not recognize the makes of the classic cars parked in even rows, nor did she recognize the Ford Trimotor aircraft and the Messerschmitt 262 jet plane sitting side by side at one end of the hangar. There was a large, old-fashioned Pullman car sitting on a short section of track, while behind it a small bathtub with an outboard motor stood perched on a small platform beside a strange-looking craft that resembled the upper half of a sailboat that had been tied to the buoyancy tubes of a rubber boat. A mast rose from the middle with what seemed like palm fronds woven into a sail.

"Good morning," she called down.

He looked up and gave her a killer smile. "Nice to see you, lazybones."

"I could have stayed in bed all day."

"No chance of that," he said. "Admiral Sandecker called while you were in dreamland. He and your boss want our bodies at a conference in one hour."

"Your place or mine?" Julia asked in a humorous tone.

"Yours, the INS headquarters office."

"How did you ever clean and press my silk dress?"

"I soaked it in cold water after you fell asleep last night and hung it to dry. This morning I lightly ironed it through a cotton towel. As far as I can tell, it looks good as new."

"You're quite a guy, Dirk Pitt," she said. "I've never known a man so thoughtful, or innovative. Do you perform the same services for all the girls who sleep over?"

"Only exotic ladies of Chinese descent," he answered.

"May I fix breakfast?"

"Sounds good. You'll find whatever you need in the fridge and on the upper cupboards to your right. I already made coffee."

She hesitated as Pitt began removing the fragmented mirror on the side-mounted spare tire. "I'm sorry about your car," she said sincerely.

Pitt merely shrugged. "The damage is nothing I can't fix."

"Truly, she's a lovely car."

"Fortunately, the bullets failed to strike any vital parts."

"Speaking of Qin Shang's thugs ..."

"Not to worry. There are enough hired guards patrolling outside to stage a coup on a third-world country."

"I'm embarrassed."

Pitt looked up at Julia leaning on the balcony railing and saw that her face was genuinely red with chagrin. "Why?"

"My superiors at INS and fellow agents must know I spent the night and are probably making snide remarks behind my back."

Pitt looked up at Julia on the balcony and grinned. "I'll tell anybody who asks that while you slept, I spent the night working on a rear end."

"That's not funny," she said reprovingly.

"Sorry, I meant to say differential."

"That's better," Julia said, turning flippantly with a toss of her ebony hair and strutting in

to the kitchen, having enjoyed Pitt's teasing of her.

Accompanied by two bodyguards in an armored sedan, Pitt and Julia were driven to her sorority sister's apartment so she could change into attire more fitting for a government agent. Then they were taken to the stark-looking Chester Arthur Building on Northwest I Street, which housed the headquarters of the Immigration and Naturalization Service. They entered the beige seven-story stone structure with its blackened windows from the underground parking area and were escorted up an elevator to the Investigations Division where they were met by Peter Harper's secretary, who showed them into a conference room.

Six men were already present in the room: Admiral Sandecker; Chief Commissioner Duncan Monroe and Peter Harper of the INS; Wilbur Hill, a director with the Central Intelligence Agency; Charles Davis, special assistant to the director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation; and Al Giordino. They all rose to their feet as Pitt and Julia entered the room. All, that is, except Giordino, who simply nodded silently and gave Julia an infectious smile. Introductions were quickly made before everyone settled in chairs around a long oak table.

Tags: Clive Cussler Dirk Pitt Thriller
Source: readsnovelonline.net