"Nice girls don't carry twenty-five-caliber automatic Mausers taped to their legs," Pitt said. "That's a sure sign of a professional. Teri wasn't carrying a gun when I met her on the beach—Giordino discovered it when he snatched her off the couch in the villa's study. Obviously, she feared someone inside, not outside the villa."

"You are even more perceptive than I gave you credit for," von Till said bitterly. "I may have slightly underestimated you. But it makes little or no difference on the outcome."

"Only slightly underestimated?" Pitt asked consideringly. "I wonder. If I've been wise to the girl's deception, why do you think I'd stand by and allow her to drug the First Attempt's radio operator so that she could sneak off a message to Inspector Zacynthus, announcing my intention to explore the cavern?"

"The answer is simple," von Till said smugly. "You didn't know Darius was working for me. He received the girl's message, but, unfortunately for you, neglected to pass it on to Inspector Zacynthus. Face it, Major, you got involved with matters far above your head."

Pitt didn't reply immediately. He sat quite still, absorbing the pain that burned in his leg, wondering if now was the right moment. It would be impossible to go on much longer—his vision was beginning to blur around the edges—yet he couldn't overplay his hand. He turned his head slightly and stared dully up at Darius. The Luger still aimed at Pitt's navel. This had to be it, he told himself—he hoped to God his timing was right.

"I agree," he said casually. "It just goes to prove, you can't win them all, can you, Admiral Heibert?"

At first von Till didn't respond. He stood there, his face without expression. Then the sheer incredibility of Pitt's words began to register. He took a step toward Pitt, his mouth barely moving.

"What—what did you call me?" he asked in a tight whisper.

"Admiral Heibert," Pitt repeated. "Admiral Erich Heibert: Commander of Nazi Germany's transportation fleet; fanatical follower of Adolph Hitler; and brother of Kurt Heibert, the World War I ace."

What little color was left drained from his face. "You—you have lost your senses."

"The U-19, that was your final mistake."

"Nonsense, utter nonsense." The tight lips spoke low and unbelieving.

"The model in your study. It struck me as strange at the time; why would an ex-combat pilot display a replica of a submarine instead of the aircraft he flew during wartime? Pilots are as sentimental about those things as sailors. It didn't figure. The ultimate irony is that Darius, not knowing your true identity, used Inspector Zacynthus' radio to contact the German naval archives in Berlin at my request."

"So that was what you were after," Darius said, his eyes still watchful.