like that, in another tooth, gives enough juice to deto-

  nate the masinex. But right now, he can't squeeze

  anything with his hands secured. He can't bite down.

  And he can't belly flop or throw himself against the

  sharp end of a table or chair because he can't move with

  his legs apart and his hands behind him. So we're safe."

  "Kill him," Weinstein said abruptly.

  Stavers laughed. "The tigress extends her claws. Nah,

  that's a dumb move, Rebecca. He's just one of two they

  set up. "

  "What?"

  "You, 11 see. A], put a piece on that table, there.

  Revolver. Good. Remove two rounds. It's double-action,

  right?" Ternplin nodded, yes. "Right, Okay. I want the

  hammer to fall on empty chambers the first two times

  the trigger's pulled. The third time is fun and games."

  Stavers waited until Templin set up the .38 Special.

  "Okay, bring in the rest of them," Stavers ordered.

  They came in, each flanked by a muscular escort,

  moving to the table in the locker room center. They

  stared at the naked Chinaman spread-eagled and splayed

  against the wall.

  Marden grinned. "They sure look different when you

  take away their fancy du@s. Sweatsuits must be demo-

  cratic. Everyone's the same as everyone else. "

  Marden laughed alone. Tension hung heavy in the

  room. Cameron Vanderhoff was an old master at poli-

  tics and a survivor of diplomatic convolutions. There's a

  time for the fancy and a tirne for the plain, and this was

  cleariv the 12fter

  DARK MESSIAH

  327

  "This is a strange meeting, Mr. Stavers," he said

  calmly.

  "Stranger than you might believe, Vanderhoff," Stavers

  said easily. "It was supposed to be a meeting. Cards on

  the table, that sort of old tradition. But we discovered it

  was really a bushwhacking party."

  "I don't know what the hell you're talking aboufl-

  Marsha Pardue's voice was shrill, her face white with

  anger. Stavers and Weinstein glanced at one another.

  Their eyes told them what words were needed for

  others. Vanderhoffs clean. This Pardue woman is clean.

  She's too wild with anger to be faking it.

  "Answer me, damnit!" Pardue shouted to Stavers.

  "Why were we put through this @ . . this indignity! I

  came here openly and honestly and--

  "So did we, Miss Pardue," Stavers told her. "But not

  everybody did. You see our Chinese friend there?"

  She glanced again at the naked man. Her voice toned

  down as she turned back to Stavers. "That's not Chai

  Honwu," she said. "I don't understand-"

  "Last-minute replacement, really," Stavers answered.

  "He's an assassin. And I should add for the benefit of all

  Of you, all of us, everyone here, he showed up to kill us

  all." Stavers pointed. "See that belly bulge@ There's

  enough explosives in there to level this building. With

  us in it, I might add."

  Harvey Schlemmel stood relaxed between his guards.

  Stavers smiled to himself. flarv was of the same breed

  as himself or Skip Marden. Good as these guards were,

  Harv Schlemmel could take tnern both in less than

  three seconds. But he's not even tensed up. it's not

  Harv. So that leaves Zhukov or the Pope's bully boy,

  "Interesting." They looked at Zhukov- arms -Folded

  across his chest. "I would have expected a Japanese,"

  the Russian went on. "You understand, kamikazes and

  that sort of nationalistic rubbish. But not a Chinese.

  Not enough, how would they say it in London? Not

  enough pomp and circumstance. The Chinese just love

  to die when there's a lot of ceremony going on."

  "Kill him!" Lodovici Tosca shouted. The Italian's Face

  328

  Martin Caidin

  say! He's put all our lives at stake, so why does he still

  live? Kill him!"

  "Hell, kill him yourself," Stavers said, his words

  strangely calm.

  Tosca glared wildly at Stavers; then, in a swift and

  agile motion, he ducked away from his guards and

  threw himself at the table; clutching the revolver left

  there by Templin. He only glanced at Kai-Shek for an

  instant, then spun about to face Stavers, the gun aimed

  at Stavers' heart.

  " You waited too long!" he shouted. "For the glory of

  God, for-"

  He pulled the trigger, his face a mixture of stunned

  surprise and outrage as the hammer clicked on the

  empty chamber. He squeezed again, and once more

  the metallic click sounded. Tosca let out an animal cry,

  whirled about and pulled the trigger rapidly three times,

  and each time a shot boomed in the enclosed room.

  Each time a lead slug ripped directly into the midriff

  of Tom Kai-Shek, directly through the plastic explosives.

  Tosca lifted the gun, staring in disbelief at the gun

  and then at Kai-Shek, blood spurting from his body. He

  fell forward, his legs held rigidly wide by the spreader

  bar.

  "Get him!" Templin called out. Two men had already

  moved in, catching the body and lowering it gently to

  the floor.

  " You blew it, Cardinal," Stavers told the shaking

  Italian. "That gun's no good for setting off plastique like

  masinex. You need an electrical charge, asshole."

  " I'll kill you!" Tosca shrieked, eyes wild. He leveled

  the shaking gun at Stavers. "There's one more bullet

  left!"

  Stavers walked slowly toward the screaming man.

  "You can't do it," he said quietly. "You can't kill me.

  You're unclean, Tosca. The demon rides in you. You're

  filth. You know that. You're a pawn of Lucifer. Filth."

  Stavers stood directly before Lodovici Tosca, and in his

  mind he squeezed, hard, driving the pressure at the

  man before hirn, Tosca. blinked repeatedly, pale, shak-

  DARK MESSIAH

  329

  must cleanse yourself to save your soul from hell. Do it,

  Lodovici. For Christ and the Father, do it now!"

  "Yes, yes!" Tosca howled. He iammed the muzzle

  into his mouth and squeezed the t@igger.

  Brains, bones, flesh and blood sprayed across the

  room.

  Stavers turned to his "guests.

  I don't take kindly to someone trying to murder me.

  That Chinaman was a professional assassin, He and that

  filth from Rome were in this deal from the word go.

  That they would also have killed you doesn't matter to

  me. I want you to go back to your governments. Tell

  them anything you want, but above all, tell them never

  to fuck with me again, is that clear? Because if you mess

  with me or my plans again, if anyone pulls this bullshit,

  I make you a promise. The big birds will fly. Oh, not

  all. But enough of the missiles with thermonukes, in

  enough right places, so you won't be able to keep from

  firing back. And that's the third world war and a nu-

  clear party for everybody. Got it?" He nodded to

  Templin. "Get them the hell out of my sigbt."

  "Wait a minute," a voice called out. Stavers knew

  before he looked that it would he Harv Schleminel. The

  Israeli wasn't upset or even piqued. "How'd you do

  that, old friend?" he asked Stavers.

  They all knew his reference was to Tosea blowing

  away the top and back of his head when he could have

  killed Stavers.

  "Interestincr, wasn't it, Harv?" Stavers said.

  "You were@always good," Schleinmel said, smiling,

  "but this one, wow."

  "Got anv @ruesses, HarO"

  "Damn ri&t."

  "Do me a favor. For old time's sake."

  -Name it. I owe you.-

  " Take a detour on the way home, Harv. Stop off in

  Rome. See the Pope. Have a friendly chat with the old

  n-ian. Tell him what happened here. Tell him how it all

  came down. Tell him anvthing vou want, but most of'

  all, tell the old buzzard that if he fucks with me ever

  330 Martin Caidin

  turns the Vatican and the local countryside into good

  old radioactive steam."

  "I'll do that, Doug."

  "I figured you might. I appreciate it, Harv."

  "Hals und beinbruch, buddy."

  "The fishing trip is off, Al. Send some doubles for

  us, " Stavers said. "Do whatever you must to fill out the

  plan you had. I've got a hunch someone knows it, and

  Wakulla Springs has some company in waiting."

  They walked rapidly through an underground tunnel

  beneath the FSU campus; Stavers, Weinstein, Marden

  and Templin.

  Templin nodded. He was still wild with anger at

  himself for not picking up sooner on the assassination

  attempt that had come so incredibly close to succeed-

  ing. And it kept getting worse; more and more the

  fanatics in power roles were taking dead aim at Douglas

  Stavers. He was gaining too much power, too much

  strength. He'd become a world figure and apple carts

  were already toppling in high places,

  "I'll take care of it," he said quickly. "Look, I'm

  pleading with you, Doug. Call off this crazy showtime

  gig you're planning for the church scene. Goddamnit,

  you're setting yourself up for-"

  "Hey, it was your idea, asshole," Marden broke into

  his wo@ds. "Remember? You wanted hirn to be visible,

  for Christ's sake."

  "There's no time now to argue. We're going through

  with our plans. I'm making some changes. You'll find

  out about them in due time, Al. Right now, I want the

  hell out of here. It's great to be on campus and all that

  crap but-" He shook his head. "Never mind. What's

  the transport?"

  "End of the tunnel. Party bus."

  "Party bus?" Weinstein queried.

  "Uh huh. There's the big game. Half the campus is

  stoned or drunk out of their minds," Templin replied.

  "Parties everywhere. A lot of the kids hire buses and

  motor homes with drivers. That way they carouse on

  DARK MESSIAH

  331

  bus, special job, armored and armorglass, and a group

  of people who work for us. They'll be singing and

  drunk, but not really. They'll head for Pensacola. Big

  party jam there. On the way, when it's clear-and I'll

  have a chopper upstairs to b@ sure-the bus cuts off the

  interstate and takes a road through the restricted area

  in the Eglin complex. A Skua's waiting for you there."

  They reached the stairway that would take them to

  the bus. Templin stopped Stavers at the last moment.

  "If I don't ask you I'll go crazy. What that Israeli said to

  you. It was German, wasn't it?"

  "Sure was, Al."

  "But what did it mean?"

  "Hals und beinbruch. Break your neck and a leg. It's

  an old pilot's way of wishing a friend good luck, and

  come home safe. So long, Al."

  "Don't take any wooden nickels, Doug," Templin

  called out. He watched the bus roar off into the night.

  Three hours later they were in the Skua, the nose-

  wheel coming off the long Eglin runwav smoothly. They

  boomed into the night sky, two F-1@ fighters sailing

  with them into the high dark. At fifty-four thousand

  feet, following Stavers' last-minute change in plans and

  schedules, the F-15s held course as the Skua eased off

  to the right, heading northwest.

  "No more waiting," Stavers told Weinstein. "I want a

  good steak and a beer, and a couple of hours sleep, and

  when we get to Mannheim we kick Adolf in the ass and

  twist his mind a couple of times. Right after we deliver

  him, all hell will be breaking loose."

  "And that," Weinstein smiled, "is just the beginning."

  Chapter 24

  "He's coming out of -it."

  "He's steaming like a barbecued porker. Jesus, it's

  like a storm sewer grating on a cold night."

  "That's not him, dummy. It's the heat exchange,

  and-"

  "I know what it is. It just seemed like the right thing

  to say."

  "You think," Stavers said slowly to Rebecca Wein-

  stein, "anybody will ever thank us for bringing the

  Adolf Hitler back to real, breathing, living, talking,

  walking life?"

  "To paraphrase one of your great writers, Doug," she

  answered, smiling, "all the world loves a madman."

  Skip Marden, face hidden beneath his surgical mask

  and cap, leaned down for a better look at the human

  form within whom life forces beat and swirled faster

  and faster. Oxygen enriched cells long on a starvation

  diet. Molecules stirred, organs trelubled, fluids bur-

  bled; thousands and tben millions of processes, most of

  them invisible to the hurnan eye, extracted fron, "fro-

  zen life/death" the man who had launched the best of

  the civilized world on its path of savage immolation.

  It's hard to be'ieve," Marden said abruptly, then

  lapsed into unexpected silence.

  "what's hard to believe?" Stavers queried.

  "All the things I've read about Adolf Hitler," Marden

  said. "The incredible way he took a country broke and

  bleeding and dragged it out of the mud. Built it up.

  Whipped people left and right to do what he wanted.

  DARK MESSIAH

  333

  Crawled into their minds, That aura of Hitler I've heard

  so much about. I've talked to former German soldiers,

  pilots; even their generals. They said his aura was real.

  You walked into a room where Hitler was waiting and

  he slammed into your mind like a wet towel snapping at

  your ass.

  "He's eloquent enough," Weinstein said admiringly

  to Stavers.

  "What's your first impression now?" Stavers asked

  Marden.

  Marden didn't answer for the moment. The figure in

  the medical chrysalis for the past several hours had

  twitched; muscles achingly returning to life and minis-

  cule movement, all functions arising from autonomic

  systems "coming back on line." There had been the

  agonizingly dreadful moments of learning whether the

  sensitive nudibranches of the alveolar system would

  still function after being so long in deep freeze. That

  supersensitive miracle of the exchange of gases, of oxy-

  gen highly enriched pouring into the system, stirring

  exquisite leaves and filaments to accept life-giving oxy-

  gen while yielding up for exhalation and throwaway

  gases clouded with the debris collected throughout the

  body from returning streams and rivulets of blood. A

  single glop of phlegm could kill this man,

  And yet it was working. Tissues, nerves, muscles,

  neuronic connections, electrical impulses, pressure

  changes, enzymes, proteins, sodium and potassium and

  hundreds of other elements so critical to functioning

  had never really been dead but "on hold." Weinstein,

  drawing on long-established practices unknown to doc-

  tors anywhere else on the planet, had sent a constant

  trickle of electrical spasms through the entire body, a

  feathery stimulation to which the tissues and all t6ir

  components responded. It was much like trying to re-

  vive an ancient river and its thousands of tiny tributar-

  ies. The human body is in reality an oblongated bag of

  liquids, but they've all got to flow in synchronous and

  coordinated movement so their many parts and pieces

  can march to the same tune of life.

  334

  Martin Caidin

  the safety of unconsciousness. Toes moved, muscles

  throbbed gently.

  Hitler's eyes opened, closed; they opened again, but

  he was still unseeing. Too early yet for the optic system

  to function. "It's like starting a car on a morning when

  the temperature's below zero and the battery's dead,"

  Marden said with simple but unerring accuracy.

  "The lady's got the battery charged," Stavers chided

  him.

  "So I see." He peered closer. "Doc, bow long before

  be climbs the ice mountain back to knowing what's

  going on.

  "I presume you mean brain function?"

  I mean he'll know enough to piss into a urinal in-

  stead of all over himself," Marden cracked.

  "What we're doing either works or it won't," she said

  in a flat tone. "There's no halfway margin as best as I

  can tell. "

  "So if be comes out of it he'll be as sharp as he ever

  was

  She nodded. "Yes."

  11 And if he doesn't?"

  "Then he'll die. Let me put it another way. It's a full

  black or white and no grey areas. He won@t come par-

  tially out of brain stasis. Then we'd have a walking

  vegetable on our bands. But," she stressed, "that won ,t

  happen. If he doesn't emerge, then his brain will . , ."

  she sought the proper wording.. "well. it will have the

 

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