It was then, however, that he looked about himself and realized that his Scarab and Doogie's Goose were the only vessels left on the river.
In fact, the only other remnant of the chase just concluded was a small white speck disappearing over the trees ahead of them.
The white Bell Jet Ranger helicopter.
FIFTH MACHINATION
Tuesday, January 5, 1815 hours
THE MADRE DE DIOS GOLDMINE
TOP VIEW
Path
Refuse Pit
Foliage Foliage
CROSSECTION
Bat-house Of Control Booth Suspension
'Who are you!' Otto Ehrhardt demanded in German slapping Renee hard across her face.
“I told you!' she yelled back at him. 'My name is Renee Becker and I am a special agent with the Bundes Kiminal Amt;'
The white helicopter was now flying low over the river, heading east. Race and Renee sat in the rear compartment, handcuffed. Before them sat Ehrhardt, Anistaze and Crater- face. A lone pilot was up front flying the chopper.
Ehrhardt turned to face Race. 'So who, then, are you?'
He's American—' Renee said.
Ehrhardt hit her again. Hard.
'I wasn't addressing you.' He turned back to Race. 'Now, who are you? FBI? Or are you Navy? A SEAL team, perhaps—
hell, you must be SEALs to take out our boats like that 'We're DARPA,' Race said.
Ehrhardt frowned. Then he began to chuckle softly.
'No, you're not,' he said, leaning forward sticking his round fleshy face right in front of Races.
Race thought he was going to be sick.
Ehrhardt was disgusting, vile—obese to the point of being grotesque, reeking of body odour and possessed of an evil moonlike face. A thin string of saliva smacked between his lips when he spoke and his breath smelled like horseshit.
'I'm working with Doctor Frank Nash,' Race aid, trying desperately to remain calm. 'He's a retired Army colonel working with the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency in conjunction with members of the United States y.'
Frank Nash, eh?' Ehrhardt said, breathing his foul, rancid breath all over Race's face.
'That's right,
'And who, then, might you be Little Man Trying To Be So Brave?' he said, as he lifted Race's Yankees Cap off his head.
'My name is William Race' Race said; grabbing his cap with his cuffed hands. 'I'm a professor of ancient languages at NOW York University.'
'And' Ehrhardt said, nodding, 'so you are the one they brought along to translate the manuscript. Very good, very good; Before I have you killed, Mister William Race, professor of ancient languages at New York University, I would like to correct a certain mis-impression that you appear to possess.'
And what is that?'
'Fank Nash is not with DARPA.'
'What?; Race said frowning.
'And he most certainly is not a retired Army colonel, either. On the contrary, he is most active indeed; For your information, Colonel Francis K. Nash is the head of the United States Army's Special Projects Unit,'
'What?'
Race didn't got it Why would Nash say he was DARPA when in fact ho want?
Ah-ha!' Ehrhardt cackled, clapping his hands, 'I love to see the look of betrayal on a man's face just before he is about to die,'
Race was thoroughly confused now,
He didn't know what to think.
Even if Nash Wasn't with DARPA what did it matter?
The Supernova was an Army project and Nash was with Army Special Projects,
Unless,..
