Trojan Odyssey

They soon arrived at Pitt's hangar. Giordino used the remote to turn off the security alarms and open the main door. Then he drove the Marmon onto the main floor. Pitt and Loren stepped from the car and climbed the stairway to his apartment, where they changed into more casual clothes for the reception.

St. Julien charged into the hangar like a maddened hippopotamus and began shouting orders to the caterers. He dabbed sweat from his brow brought on by the warm, humid Indian summer day and admonished the maître d' of Le Curcel, the Michelin three-star restaurant he had hired to cater the reception. "These oysters you expect to serve are the size of peanuts. They simply won't do."

"I shall have them replaced immediately," the maître d' promised before rushing away.

Soon the guests began arriving and were served a California estate champagne while seated at tables throughout the hangar. They began dabbling in the gourmet delicacies from several buffet tables laid around the ornate antique bathtub with an outboard motor that Pitt had used to escape Cuba many years earlier. The buffet table featured polished silver chafing dishes and iced platters kept filled with every variety of food that could be pulled from the sea, including abalone and sea urchin.

Perlmutter did himself proud by creating a menu that most likely would never be duplicated again.

When Admiral Sandecker arrived, he asked to see Pitt alone. He was shown into one of the staterooms of the Manhattan Limited Pullman car that Pitt used as an office. After Pitt closed the door and they sat down, Sandecker lit up one of his battleship cigars and blew a blue haze toward the paneled ceiling.

"You know that Vice President Holden is in poor health," the admiral began.

"I've heard rumors."

"The situation is much worse. Holden isn't expected to live out the month."

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Pitt. "My father has known him for thirty years. He's a good man."

Sandecker looked at Pitt to see his reaction. "The president has asked me to be his ru

Pitt's heavy black brows knitted together. "The president is a shoo-in to win. Somehow, I can't picture you as a vice president."

Sandecker shrugged. "It's an easier job than I have now."

"Yes, but NUMA is your life."

"I'm not getting younger and I'm burned out after twenty-five years in the same job. It's time for a change. Besides, I'm not the type to sit as a do-nothing vice president. You've known me long enough to know I'll shake the government by the throat."

Pitt laughed. "I know you won't hide in a closet in the White House or remain silent on issues."

"Especially environmental issues pertaining to the seas," Sandecker elaborated. "When you think about it, I can do more good for NUMA from the White House than I can in my fancy office across the river."

"Who takes over as head of NUMA?" asked Pitt. "Rudi Gu

Sandecker shook his head. "No, Rudi doesn't want the job. He feels more comfortable as second in command."

"Then who do you plan to tap?"

A sly smile spread Sandecker's thin lips. "You," he replied briefly.

At first the word you flew over Pitt's head, and then it sank in. "Me? You can't be serious."

"I can't think of a more qualified person to take the reins."

Pitt came to his feet and paced the room. "No, no, I'm not an administrator."

"Gu

The enormity of the decision was not lost on Pitt. "I've got to think about this."

Sandecker came to his feet and walked to the door. "Think about it during your honeymoon. We'll discuss it when you and Loren return."

"I've got to discuss it with her first, now that we're married."

"We've already talked. She's in favor."

Pitt fixed the admiral with an iron stare. "You old devil."

"Yes," said Sandecker cheerfully. "I am that."

Pitt returned to the reception and mingled with the guests, posing for pictures with Loren and their parents. He was talking with his mother when Dirk came up and tapped Pitt on the shoulder.

"Dad, there's a man at the door who wants to see you."

Pitt excused himself and walked through the rows of old cars and the throng of friends and guests. When he reached the door, he found an older man, around seventy with white hair and beard. He stood almost the same height as Pitt, and though his eyes were not as green they had a similar twinkle.

"Can I help you?" asked Pitt.

"Yes, I contacted you some time ago about coming by and viewing your car collection. We parked next to each other at a concourse a few years ago."

"Of course, I displayed my Stutz and you had a Hispano Suiza."

"Yes, that's right." The man looked behind Pitt at the festivities. "It seems I've come at a bad time."

"No, no," said Pitt in a happy mood. "It's my wedding day. You're welcome to join the party."

"That's very gracious of you."

"I'm sorry, I've forgotten your name."

The old man looked at him and smiled. "Cussler, Clive Cussler."

Pitt studied Cussler pensively for a long moment. "Strange," he said in a vague tone, "I get the feeling I've known you for a long time."

"Perhaps in another dimension."

Pitt put his arm around Cussler's shoulders. "Come on in, Clive, before my guests drink up all the champagne."

Together, they stepped into the hangar and closed the door.