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front of the main door. It was a big car to drive the busy streets of the capital, but he found it responsive and enjoyed the comfortable ride. The NUMA name and color also provided him with a government vehicle that provided parking places not available for personal cars.
He drove over the bridge into the core of the city and parked in a government-only parking area two blocks from the Capitol Building. Once he climbed the great staircase and entered under the dome, he followed Loren's instructions to the meeting room where the investigation was being held. Not wishing to pass through the doors open to journalists and the public, he walked through the corridors until he came to a Capitol security guard who stood beside the door reserved for the House of Representatives' committee, their aides and lawyers.
Pitt gave the guard a slip of paper and asked him to give it to Congresswoman Loren Smith.
"I'm not supposed to do that," protested the guard in a gray uniform.
"It's extremely urgent," said Pitt in an authoritative voice. "I have a pivotal piece of evidence for her and the committee."
Pitt displayed his NUMA credentials to show the guard he was not someone who had walked in off the street. The guard compared the photo on the ID with his face, nodded, took the note and stepped into the committee room.
Ten minutes later, when there was a break in the questioning, Loren came through the door. "What's this all about?" she asked, her perfectly shaped brows raised.
"I have to get in the room."
She looked at him, confused. "You could have come through the public doors."
"I have an item which will expose Specter for what he is."
"Give it to me, and I'll present it to the committee."
He shook his head. "No can do. I have to present it myself."
"I can't let you do that," she countered. "You're not on the list of witnesses."
"Make an exception," he persisted. "Ask the chairman."
She stared into the eyes she knew so well, looking for something but not finding it. "Dirk, I simply can't do that. You've got to tell me what it is you're doing."
The guard was standing nearby, listening to the conversation. The door, normally locked, was standing slightly ajar. Pitt took Loren by the shoulders, turned her around in one swift motion and pushed her into the guard. Before they could stop him, he was through the door and walking rapidly along the aisle between the seated representatives and their aides. No one made any attempt to protest or restrain him from coming down the short stairway to the witness and audience floor. He stopped in front of the table where Specter was seated, surrounded by his high-priced attorneys.
Congressman Christopher Dunn of Montana pounded his gavel and called out, "You, sir, are interrupting a very important investigation. I must ask you to leave immediately or I will have the guards escort you out."
"If you will indulge me, Congressman, I will set your investigation onto an entirely different track."
Dunn motioned toward the guard who had chased Pitt into the room. "Remove him!"
Pitt pulled the knife from under this coat and extended it out toward the guard, who stopped dead in his tracks. Slowly, the guard began to reach for his gun, but hesitated when Pitt moved the knife within an inch of his chest.
"Indulge me," he repeated. "Believe me, Congressman, it will be well worth your time to hear me out."
"Who are you, sir?" Dunn demanded.
"My name is Dirk Pitt. I am the son of Senator George Pitt."
Dunn mulled that over for a moment, then nodded at the guard. "Hold on. I want to hear what Mr. Pitt has to say." Then he looked at Pitt. "Drop that knife. Then I'll give you exactly one minute to state your case. You'd better make it good or you'll be behind bars within the next hour."
"You'd arrest the son of an esteemed senator?" asked Pitt facetiously.
"He's a Republican," said Dunn with a crafty grin. "I'm a Democrat."
"Thank you, Congressman." Pitt laid the ornate knife on the table and moved until he was standing opposite Specter, who sat in silent calm, dressed in his white suit with his customary scarf draped around his lower face beneath dark sunglasses. "Will you please stand up, Mr. Specter?"
One of Specter's attorneys leaned over and spoke into the table's microphone. "I must protest most vigorously, Congressman Dunn, against this man who has no business in this room. Mr. Specter is under no legal obligation to acknowledge him."
"Is Specter afraid?" said Pitt tauntingly. "Is he frightened? Is he a coward?" Pitt paused and stared at Specter provokingly.
Specter took the bait. He was too arrogant to ignore Pitt's insults. He put his hand on his attorney's arm to restrain him and slowly heaved his huge bulk up from his chair, until he stood, face unseen, the consummate riddle in an enigma.
