"You paint a grim picture for humanity," said Julia, visibly shaken.

Pitt went silent. He did not have the answer nor was he Nostradamus. His brain told him that Qin Shang's prophecy might indeed come to pass. But his heart refused to reject hope, He came to his feet and nodded at Julia. "I think we've heard enough of Mr. Shang's meaningless drivel. It's plain to see that he's a man who loves to hear himself talk. Let's clear out of this architectural monstrosity and its phony decor and breathe fresh air again."

Qin Shang leaped to his feet. "You dare mock me," he snarled.

Pitt moved to the desk and leaned across the surface until his face was bare inches away from Qin Shang's. "Mock you, Mr. Shang? That's putting it mildly. I'd rather have my Christmas stocking filled with cow dung than listen to your retarded philosophy on future affairs." Then he took Julia's hand. "Come on, we're out of here."

Julia made no effort to move; she appeared dazed. Pitt had to pull her along behind him. At the doorway he paused and looked back.

"Thank you, Mr. Shang, for a most provocative evening. I enjoyed your excellent champagne and seafood, especially the abalone."

The Chinese's face was tight and cold, twisted in a mask of malevolence. "No man speaks to Qin Shang in this manner."

"I'm sorry for you, Shang. On the surface you are fabulously rich and almighty, but underneath you're only a self-made man who worships his inventor."

Qin Shang fought to regain control of his emotions. When he spoke, his voice came as though out of an arctic mist. "You have made a fatal error, Mr. Pitt."

Pitt smiled thinly. "I was about to say the same about the two cretins you sent to kill me earlier this evening."

"Another time, another place, you may not be so fortunate."

Pitt said coldly, "Just so we keep a level playing field, please be advised that I have hired a team of professional assassins to terminate you, Mr. Shang. With luck, we'll never meet again."

Before Qin Shang could respond, Pitt and Julia were walking through the mass of guests toward the front entrance. Julia discreetly opened her purse, held it close to her face as though searching for cosmetics and spoke into the tiny radio.

"This is Dragon Lady. We're coming out."

"Dragon Lady," said Pitt. "Is that the best you could dream up for a code name?"

The dove-gray eyes gazed at him as if he was thick between the ears. "It fits," she said simply.

If Qin Shang's paid killers had any plans of following the Duesenberg and blasting its occupants at the first stoplight, they were quickly laid to rest as two unmarked vans fell into a convoy behind the big car.

"I hope they're on our side," said Pitt.

"Peter Harper is very thorough. The INS protects its own with specialists outside the service. The people in the vans are from a little-known security force that supplies teams of bodyguards on request from different branches of government."