Chapter Three

July 1, 1945

A late afternoon day saw Washington living up to its reputation as a sleepy southern town. In the Pentagon, the unbearable heat had caused all windows to be opened and all uniform jackets to come off, as the War Department sluggishly went about its work.

"Well that should be it for today," Steve leaned back and exhaled, "You two can go now."

"Thanks," Etta wasted no time in snatching her jacket and hurrying out the door, "See you tomorrow."

Diana looked up from her paperwork and smiled at Steve, "She has a date tonight. Chief Petty Officer Hallahan from Naval Ordnance."

"Good for Etta," Steve smiled and rose from his chair, "How about you, Diana?"

She shook her head, "My evening is dull and lonely."

He rolled his sleeves back down and straightened his tie, "Well Diana, nothing would give me greater joy than asking if you could have dinner with me tonight, but I've got an important meeting at General Blankenship's house."

"Does it concern this project you haven't been telling me about for the last two months?"

"It does," Steve nodded, "I've been pushing the general to let me fill you in, but he said it's no go for another ten days. That's when the big test will come, and I'll be allowed to tell you everything then."

"I understand."

He put on his cap and jacket and looked at her with a trace of regret, "Look Diana, I really feel guilty about not being able to do anything for you tonight."

"There's nothing to be guilty about," she said reassuringly.

"Well even so, I'd feel better if you let me drive you back to your apartment. Riding the bus in this heat won't be a pleasant experience."

Diana smiled and rose, "All right," she said, "I accept."

They made their way to the vast parking lot, where Steve's official staff car was parked.

"I still think this place is too big," Diana idly remarked. "Once demobilization begins they’ll really see how much space they wasted when they built this place."

"I agree," Steve chuckled as he unlocked the door on Diana's side and held it open for her. Then, he went over to the other side, got in, started the car and drove off.

Ten seconds after Steve's car began moving, another staff car in the parking lot started and began to discreetly follow.

Behind the wheel, an angry determined face with a grizzled moustache and graying hair, stared at Trevor's car with nothing but pure hate.

"Now this is it, schweinhund," he whispered, "Now you pay."

Thirty minutes later, after driving across the Arlington Memorial Bridge and through the busy streets of Washington, Steve stopped his car in front of Diana's apartment house on K Street.

"Try to have a good evening, Diana," Steve squeezed her hand slightly as she prepared to get out, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight Steve," she smiled, "Good luck with the meeting."

"I will."

Diana went up the steps to the main entrance and turned to wave as his car began moving off.

Suddenly, Diana saw another staff car careen down the street toward Steve. Stunned, she could see a blurred glimpse of a mustached visage at the wheel, holding a gun out the window.

Quickly, she backed inside the building.

Steve had pulled out barely twenty feet when he looked in his rear-view mirror and saw the staff car bearing down on him, and the outstretched arm of the driver holding a gun.

Four years of West Point training kicked in automatically, and he quickly ducked down. And then, he heard and felt the concussion of a shot slamming through the rear windshield. The bullet deflected off the top of the wheel grazing his right hand. and caused Steve to instinctively let go of the wheel.

The staff car swerved out of control to the right, and crashed on to the sidewalk against the front steps of the apartment house two doors down from Diana's. Ignoring the searing pain in his right hand, he reached down and pulled back on the emergency brake.

Trevor got to a sitting position and grasped his bleeding hand. He turned around and saw that the other staff car had stopped and the driver had gotten out and was making his way toward him, brandishing his pistol.

Numb, he tried to reach for his own gun inside his jacket. But then he heard a cold, menacing voice say in accented English, "Don't even try."

Trevor looked up just as the man reached down and stripped away his revolver.

"So we finally meet," the man said with venom as he cocked his pistol, "And at last, Colonel Trevor, I will have my revenge."

"Who are you?" he whispered.

"SS Standartenfuhrer Dietrich Bolle," pride filled his voice, "Two years ago Colonel, you led the team that broke up the top German sabotage ring in America, the Iron Brigade."

Trevor dimly nodded, "I remember," his expression hardened, "And now I get the connection. The leader of the ring was Major Gunther Bolle." he paused slightly, "Your brother?"

"Yes," Bolle grabbed Steve by the lapel, "And I swore that my last service on behalf of the Fuhrer would be to avenge Gunther's death."

"Your brother brought it on himself," Steve said coldly, "He refused to surrender peacefully and I acted accordingly."

"You should have thought twice, Colonel," Bolle cocked the trigger, "It has turned out to be the greatest mistake of your illustrious career."

Suddenly, Bolle was yanked from behind and tossed into the air. Steve looked up and smiled in relief when he saw a familiar star-spangled sight.

Wonder Woman.

Bolle hit the pavement twenty feet from where he'd been thrown. Sprawled out, he looked up and saw the mighty Amazon walking toward him with a contemptuous smirk.

Enraged, the Nazi fired madly at her. Wonder Woman's arms went up and the small lead projectiles ricocheted harmlessly off her bracelets. A technique that was all too familiar to her. Bracelets made from the indestructible mineral feminum that only existed on Paradise Island. One of the many elements that gave her strength and power that no other mortal could ever possess.

Finally, Bolle's gun clicked empty. Wonder Woman planted her boot on his hand and towered over him with her hands on hips.

"Get up," she commanded.

Initially, Bolle seemed to comply. But as soon as he was on his feet, he suddenly blurted, "No woman can defeat me!" and he lunged at her with a karate motion.

But Wonder Woman expertly timed his lunge, grabbed him by the arm and threw him up into the air where he did a perfect somersault before landing flat on his back.

The SS officer was moaning in pain as Wonder Woman threw her golden lasso over him and pulled him back toward her. She then bound him up tight and hitched the lasso to the car bumper.

"You won't be going anywhere," she said coyly, "Next time, don't underestimate a woman's ability. That kind of thinking lost you the war."

She turned around and headed back to Steve, who was slowly getting out of his own car.

"Are you all right, Steve?"

"Yeah," he nodded as he began wrapping a handkerchief around his bleeding hand, "I'll be all right. It's just a flesh wound. Nothing serious."

"Who was that?"

He grimaced as he tightened the makeshift tourniquet, "He's an SS officer whose brother was killed when I broke up the Iron Brigade ring two years ago."

Wonder Woman shook her head in disgust, "Even when they've lost, they still don't give up."

"Yeah," Steve nodded, "God, I'm glad you were here, Diana, or I would have been--"

Abruptly, he stopped and looked up at her in sudden embarrassment. Wonder Woman was staring at him in stunned shock.

"What did you call me?" she barely managed to get her words out.

Steve sagged against the car and awkwardly looked down at the ground.

"I know, Diana," he whispered, "I've known for a long time."

Ashamed, he turned away from her, "Let's get Colonel Bolle taken care of. And... well, we can then talk about this."

He made his way down to Bolle's car where the SS officer sat bleeding from the mouth, and still moaning in pain. It was almost a full minute before Wonder Woman felt composed enough to follow him.

In the space of a few seconds, Steve had accelerated the timetable on how she was going to deal with her future. And at the moment, she was still uncertain as to how she was going to handle that.

An hour later, with Steve's hand freshly bandaged and Bolle left with the Washington MPD, they drove back through the downtown streets, heading northwest toward Georgetown.

"I already called General Blankenship and canceled my meeting with him," Steve said as he delicately held the wheel, "For now, I think we should go to my place because unless you're going to change back, you shouldn't be seen going into your own apartment."

"That's fine," Diana's voice was flat.

He glanced at her in agony, "Diana, I'm sorry. I knew you'd tell me yourself one day when you thought it was right, and I was willing to wait. But I was just in so much shock from the whole thing that it slipped out. I'm really sorry."

"I'm not blaming you for anything, Steve," she shook her head and tried to soften her tone, "I just..." she looked at him, "How long?"

Steve sighed and kept looking ahead, "Since December 1942."

"That long?" her eyes widened, "How did you figure it out?"

"I don't work in intelligence for nothing," he said, "After a while, I thought it was very odd that I'd never seen you and Diana Prince together. And there were one or two occasions when you saved my life and it seemed to come just as Yeoman Prince had quietly disappeared into thin air."

He paused to take a breath, "Once I started developing a suspicion, I noticed other things. You were the right height. Your voices sounded remarkably alike. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it was the perfect cover for you. How else could Wonder Woman lose herself amongst the public than by passing herself off as a plain-Jane, unexcitable person? And I realized further that it seemed the only way for you to keep track of what I was doing, and always know when I needed you."

Steve glanced at her again, "I want you to know how grateful I've been for everything. Not just for all the times you've saved my life, but even as Diana Prince you've come to mean a lot to me. The more I got to know you as Diana Prince, and saw how warm and compassionate you were, the more I knew that my hunch was right."

Diana sighed, "If you know, then do you think anyone else does? Etta? General Blankenship?"

"No," he said firmly, "No, I've never said a word to them. You can rest easy Diana. I was able to figure it out because I'm the only person who's ever had close contact with you on both levels. I think your altar-ego works very well with everyone else."

He pulled into his parking space at his Georgetown apartment house. Decorations and war hero fame had enabled him to move out of the spartan officers barracks at Fort Myer, and into more comfortable accommodations.

"Let's go in and talk some more," he said as he got out. Somewhat dazed, Diana followed him in.

Moments later, they were inside his modest two-bedroom apartment. Steve disappeared into the kitchen, while Diana stayed in the living room.

Diana noticed that the furniture was moderately upper grade, and the walls were adorned with photos of Steve posing with a number of prominent people, including Generals MacArthur, Eisenhower, Marshall, Bradley and Patton. From the political arena, there was Steve with House Speaker Sam Rayburn, Senator Arthur Vandenberg, and most prominently, a signed photo of Steve with the late President Roosevelt. Diana came up to it and read the inscription. "To Major Steve Trevor, a true American hero of the first order-FDR."

On the other side of the room, were photos of Steve with entertainment and sports personalities. Betty Grable. Dorothy Lamour. Jimmy Stewart. Bob Hope. Ted Williams. Joe DiMaggio. Joe Louis.

Then, above the small fireplace, Diana noticed three pictures that stood alone. On the mantlepiece, small framed pictures of Steve with herself as Diana Prince, and another with her as Wonder Woman, flanked a larger picture of herself as Wonder Woman, where she stood all alone.

She let out a sigh and looked back toward the kitchen, "Would you prefer I change back into uniform?"

Steve frowned as he emerged with a bottle of wine and two glasses, "How are you going to do that?"

"It's quite easy." she did a slow pirouette and in the wink of an eye, her costume disappeared and she was back in uniform, her hair swept up and her glasses in place.

His mouth dropped open and he almost dropped the wine glasses. "How did you do that?" he said in disbelief.

"It's an old trick I learned back home on Paradise Island."

"Paradise Island?" Steve managed to set the wine and the glasses down, and he dropped into his leather chair.

Diana sat down on the sofa across from him, "Now that you know who I am, I might as well tell you everything about me."

Dimly, he poured himself a drink, "No offense, Diana, but I think I'd feel easier if you told me this as Wonder Woman."

She smiled and did another graceful pirouette. In an instant, the plain, dowdy image of Diana Prince was gone, replaced by the image of perfect female beauty.

Steve disbelievingly shook his head, "I have a feeling I'm in for a long night."

Diana's smile widened and she began.

"It all begins three years ago, when you were shot down over the Atlantic by Captain Drangel, the Nazi spy who was trying to destroy the Brooklyn Navy Yard and the Norden bomb-site factory..."

For over an hour, Steve sat with rapt attention as Diana told him the full story of Paradise Island and the Amazon tribe, and how she'd been led to America to take part in the fight against the Nazis. Throughout her narrative, he said nothing, but his wide-eyed expression revealed his fascination.

"It's incredible," he murmured, "A lost civilization that goes back 2500 years. And my God, that means you're..."

"2500 years old," she finished for him and smiled, "But only 25 in normal terms."

"There are some things I still don't understand. What was that part about you being created from a statue?"

Diana let out a long laugh, "That was a story my mother always told me when I was a child. That she'd received her daughters as divine gifts from Aphrodite by molding clay statues in the form of a child, and then the breath of Aphrodite brought them to life."

"And you believe that?" he looked at her quizzically.

She shrugged, "I don’t have any reason to doubt it Steve. The same is true for all of us who were born after the arrival of the Elders on Paradise Island. It’s always been taught to me as a real event, not a metaphor or an allegory, so I’ve always regarded it as true. Maybe someday I’ll find out that there’s another way of looking at the story, but for now...." she trailed off and shrugged again.

"I see," Steve uneasily folded his hands, "Then in that case do you still believe that Aphrodite and all the ancient gods are real?"

Diana smiled thinly and gazed at the ceiling, "I've been taught to worship obediently at a temple to Aphrodite for 2000 years and I don’t think I can ever give that part of me up. But I will admit that the fact that the rest of the world regards them as mythical fantasies has been a telling lesson for me. The true test of a religion should be its ability to endure. And if the old deities have not endured, then it seems possible that they have no place in the world today." she paused and looked at him with faint concern, "Steve, are you asking me these questions because of the ramifications regarding your own religious beliefs?"

"I guess I am," he admitted.

"I think you’re being concerned over nothing," Diana sounded reassuring, "My religion has no place in the world beyond Paradise Island because the ancient goddess, real as she might have been, lacked the power to provide more important things to the people of this world. The hope of eternal life, salvation and redemption that Christians, Jews and Moslems seek through their religion. Maybe it’s true that the Deity you worship is the most powerful of all gods, and the ones that I worship were in the end subservient to that same Deity and had to step aside so to speak. Aphrodite might still have dominion over what is basically her own creation, but for someone like you, Aphrodite is irrelevant."

"I see," Steve nodded, feeling reassured just a bit, "But out of curiosity, did your people ever know anything of the belief in one God before your Exodus?"

"The Hebrews?" Diana shrugged, "We knew of them, but not directly. Their faith seemed strange to us. A mysterious single God with no name, no graven image in art. A kingdom in Judea that had been overrun by Babylonians, then Persians, then Greeks. We didn't regard the Hebrews as evil and barbaric, as we did the Greeks. It's just that they seemed so passive and weak. I never would have thought that their religion would be the only one from my time that still endures. The fact that it has and mine hasn't, tells me that perhaps that belief in a single all-powerful Deity is the correct one for all non-Amazons, and that my race represents a last enclave controlled by one of the minor gods."

"I could see it that way," he nodded. "I'm a little puzzled though about some other things. If your people has spent 2500 years in isolation from the rest of the world, and knows next to nothing about what has happened in the years since, then how have you been able to develop technologies like guns and bullets for that....competition you went through in order to leave Paradise Island?"

Diana grinned wryly at him, "Feminine ingenuity, Steve."

He chuckled at her answer, "My apologies. Is that the kind of masculine arrogance that drove your people into seclusion?"

"You might say so," she answered. "But believe me Steve, I think you're an entirely different kind of man."

"I'm glad I've been able to impress you."

"You have," she chose her words carefully, bracing herself for what she wanted to say next. "You've helped me learn a lot of wonderful things in this world. And even after three years, there's still so much I don't know enough about."

"What are your post-war plans going to be?"

Diana sighed, "My mother wants me to return to Paradise Island and resume my place as the heiress to the Amazon throne."

Steve's smile faded and his face grew crestfallen.

"Mother's never been comfortable with my being here," she went on, "It took a lot just to convince her of how serious the Nazi threat was. On V-E Day, she actually sent Drusilla here with a virtual ultimatum that I return."

Trevor tried to keep his voice even, "What did you say?"

She looked directly at him and her face broke into a perfect smile, "I said no."

Wonder Woman rose from the sofa and came over to him, kneeling down in front of him.

"I told Drusilla to tell her that I wasn't coming back," her voice was soft and tender as she placed her fingertips on his cheeks, "I'm staying for the same reason why I wanted to come to America. I happen to love you, Steve Trevor."

With that, she kissed him softly on the mouth. Stunned, Steve managed to wrap his arms around her upper body as their kiss became long and sustained.

"I love you," Diana repeated the words, "From the moment I first laid my eyes on you on Paradise Island, I've loved you. I've always wondered when I'd finally be able to tell you that, and I guess I'm glad you forced the issue."

Steve looked into her eyes, his expression full of awe.

"I've always loved you, Diana," he whispered, "Knowing that you've always been there for me, and saved me from all sorts of trouble that could have killed me. There hasn't been a night for the last three years that I haven't dreamed about you and waited for this day."

They got to their feet and they kissed again, this time with a passionate embrace as well. And then, Steve began to nuzzle her with a series of kisses.

"You're the most perfect woman in the world," he whispered, "My Wonder Woman. My beautiful angel. I love you so. I want you to be part of my life forever."

And then, Steve looked into her eyes, "Marry me, Diana."

Diana's eyes filled with tears as she relaxed in his embrace, "Becoming your wife would mean more to me than all the treasures of the Amazon throne," she whispered, "Yes."

They looked at each other in moonstruck joy as they settled on the couch and continued to hold and kiss each other.

Finally, Steve managed to reluctantly pry himself loose, "We shouldn't carry this any further, Diana. One thing I've always believed in is that the wedding night is the proper time for that."

"It's all right," she leaned her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes, "For you, I'd gladly wait."

He exhaled and began to stroke her long thick hair, "What would our marriage mean for Diana Prince?"

"That's a good question," she admitted, "Would I still need the privacy offered by a secret identity? And do you publicly marry Wonder Woman or Diana?"

She looked up at him, "I think all of that should wait until after the war is officially over. For now, it's best to maintain the status quo. And then we can move ahead."

"That won't be long," Steve said, "In two weeks, if all goes well, the end will be clearly in sight."

"What do you mean?"

"The project I haven't told you about," he said, "In two weeks, there's going to be a test in the New Mexican desert of a weapon that will make the Japanese surrender without our having to invade the mainland."

Diana adjusted her posture and allowed herself to relax more, "Tell me about it."

Steve leaned back against the sofa, "I already asked General Blankenship if I could let you, Wonder Woman, come out to New Mexico and watch the test firsthand, and also boost the morale of the men there. They've been working in almost total isolation for the last three years. He said that would be fine."

"I'd be glad to come out as Wonder Woman," she said, "What's this weapon called?"

"It's connected with the Manhattan Project," he said, "It'll be an eye-opening experience."

The term meant nothing to Diana, "I hope so," she put her arm around him, "For our sake."

Steve smiled and their lips met again in another passionate kiss.

Inside, Diana felt no regret or shame for having turned her back on the ways of her people.

She felt only a sense of wondrous liberation. And an even larger sense of contentment.

Chapter Four

It was past midnight, when Steve's car pulled up in front of Diana's apartment house. But Diana, who had changed back into her uniform, did not immediately get out.

"Steve," she reached over and squeezed his hand, "I want you to know that this had been the happiest evening of my life."

"And mine too," he pulled her to him and they shared one last kiss, "God, how I love you."

Diana relaxed for just a minute before she reluctantly pried herself away, "Okay Colonel. We'd better not mix ranks any longer."

"And don't you forget that tomorrow," Steve grinned, "You only outrank me when you're in your Wonder Woman costume."

"Goodnight Steve," she got out and smiled, "I love you."

"Goodnight Diana," he said tenderly, "See you tomorrow."

And with that, he quietly drove off. Diana stayed on the sidewalk and kept watching until his car turned the corner and was out of sight.

She let out a contented sigh and finally went inside. Once she was in, she kicked off her shoes and dropped on to the sofa, where she just sat in deep contemplation of the things that lay ahead for her.

"Mrs. Steve Trevor," she said aloud, "Mrs. Diana Trevor. Diana Trevor."

She settled deeper into the sofa and smiled, "I like it."

Diana then noticed the photo of her mother that she'd taken on her last visit to Paradise Island, more than two years ago. Hippolyte's image stared back at her with its full regal bearing shining through.

Her smile grew coy as she looked directly at the picture, "I know what you're thinking, Mother," she said, "It's a title beneath you. Your title is Princess Diana, heiress to the Amazon throne. Future queen of the mightiest race of women the world has ever known."

Slowly, she then shook her head, "It's an honorable title, Mother." she said, "But I know it can never bring me happiness. At least, not the kind of happiness I want."

She turned away from the picture and then abruptly looked back at it.

"No I'm not ungrateful for what you've given me for all these years," her voice grew slightly cold, "No daughter could ever appreciate more the love and wisdom you've given me. But Mother, ever since I found Steve on Paradise Island and began to have feelings for him, I realized that for all the superiority of our knowledge, strength and sisterhood, our way can never provide total happiness. The kind of happiness I only know when I'm with Steve."

The coy smile returned to her face, "I know what you're thinking now. How can any man provide such happiness? I'll tell you how, Mother. Because after 2500 years, you know less about men than you really think. You've forgotten all about the ones who are noble and compassionate, and who understand what women have to offer for the world. Men who treat women as their equal, not their slave."

Her face drew within an inch of her mother's image, "Steve is such a man. Think about that before you judge me any further. The tide of history is with the men like Steve. The end of this war is just a beginning for the forces of good, and the opportunities for women. And I want to be here to see it all happen."

With that, Diana calmly placed the picture face-down.

"Goodnight Mother," she whispered, "I'm so glad we had this talk."

And then she turned off the light and went to bed.

The next morning, Diana was in the office already busily at work, when the door opened and a slightly disheveled Etta entered.

"Good morning," she smiled at her, "How was Chief Hallahan?"

Etta let out a dreamy sigh, "Perfection," she said, "Absolute perfection. I've never had a more wonderful night."

"Good for you," Diana grinned.

"How was your evening?" she went over to the file cabinet and began gathering folders.

"Uneventful," she said sweetly.

Etta dropped several folders in near exasperation, "Diana," she said, "When are you going to learn to get out of that shell of yours and live life to the fullest?"

"Oh, I think any day now," Diana folded her hands and kept smiling, "Any day now."

"I can hardly wait to see that," Etta motioned the folders toward her, "That's a sight I've always thought I'd never see."

"You'll see it," she leaned back, "Just wait."

Just then, the door opened and Steve entered, "Good morning Diana, Etta," he threw several folders on the table, "This is the latest on all Nazi spies still at large. Try to get it organized according to priority."

"Yes sir," Diana picked them up and for a brief instant their eyes made contact. Steve cracked the tiniest of smiles, and then his expression resumed its all-business demeanor.

"Steve," Diana held one folder up, "This one isn't necessary, is it? Colonel Dietrich Bolle?"

He came over and looked down at it, "I guess it isn't." he took it and handed it to Etta, "Etta take this over to the JAG's office. He'll be needing it more than we do."

"Yes sir," she took it and left.

When they were alone, Steve's expression softened and he reclined in his chair, "I had to get Etta out of the room so I could bring you up-to-date on the Manhattan Project, Diana."

She frowned slightly, "Shouldn't that wait until the test next week?"

"Officially yes. But I think I can trust you, can't I?" he grinned.

"You're forgetting something," Diana's tone was matter-of-fact, "Yeoman Prince is not to know about this. Only Wonder Woman."

He smiled sheepishly.

"Steve," her voice grew coy, but equally firm, "You're violating the guidelines we established last night."

"I can't help it," Steve shrugged, "All I can think about when I see you is my beautiful Wonder Woman. Now that we've let it out, I'll never be able to separate your personalities again."

"Just try to hold out a little longer. Until after the test of this mysterious, wonderful project that will end the war."

He absently looked down at the floor, "All right," he smiled, "Next week then. That's when we head out to New Mexico."

"Good," she came up and gave him an affectionate kiss on the cheek, "Now be a good soldier and let me get back to the work you're still paying me for."

"Aye-aye sir," he gave her a smart salute and sat down.

Diana chuckled and went back to her files.

SS Colonel Dietrich Bolle sat alone in his Washington MPD cell, brooding with rage over the circumstances that had led to his capture. To have been beaten by Steve Trevor, he could have accepted with dignity. But to be beaten by this bizarre Wonder Woman was too much for his Nazi psyche to accept. It went against every precept he'd rigidly followed since becoming a Nazi in 1933, when he and his brother had taken part in the burning of the Reichstag.

If there were some way to escape this infernal prison, then he would make both of them pay. Particularly her. This Wonder Woman would learn the full meaning of where a woman's true place was.

Just then, a policeman came up and unlocked his cell. Alongside the policeman was a uniformed Army captain.

"What is going on?" he demanded.

The captain gave him a contemptuous smirk, "You're being transferred to a more isolated cell at Fort Myer."

"I protest this treatment," he said, "I am a prisoner of war who is being denied due treatment under the Geneva Convention."

"In case you've forgotten, Colonel, your war is over," the captain's voice grew taunting, "The Geneva Convention doesn't apply to you. You're going to stand trial for attempted murder."

The police guard entered and led the defiant Bolle out. The captain then pulled out a pair of handcuffs and placed them around Bolle's wrist, and then his own.

The captain then led Bolle through the station, and then outside to a waiting Army staff car. He shoved Bolle into the back, motioned to the driver, and the car pulled out.

For five minutes, as they drove through Washington, headed northwest to Fort Myer, there was nothing but cold silence in the car. Bolle kept staring straight ahead in obvious rage, while the captain kept looking at him with the same contemptuous smirk.

Finally, the captain broke it, "Some thousand year Reich, wasn't it, Colonel?"

"This is but a temporary triumph for your decadent system," Bolle refused to look at him, "You can never win in the long term."

"I'll bet," his smirk widened.

Suddenly, one mile from Fort Myer, the car began slowing down.

"What's going on?" the captain looked up at the driver.

The driver pulled the car to a stop alongside the road.

"Sergeant," the captain repeated, his voice growing testy, "What's going on?"

The driver then wheeled around and pointed a gun in the captain's face, "This, captain," he said coldly, "This."

The captain's mouth fell open in stunned shock. Before he could utter a sound, the driver fired twice, killing him instantly.

Bolle frowned in disbelief at the sudden turn of events, "What's going on?"

"Shut up and quit wasting time," the driver said as he got out of the car, "Get the key from him and free yourself."

The SS Colonel reached into the captain's jacket and pulled out the key. A moment later, he was free and had gotten out of the car.

"We have to get moving," the driver said, "Our safe house is ten miles away. Come."

Happy at his newfound freedom, but still confused by what was going on, Bolle began following him off the road and into the Virginia woods.

"What?" Steve's face was a mask of disbelief as he talked on the phone, "How could that happen?"

There was a long pause as Steve listened, with Diana watching in concern.

"I see," he sighed, "Keep me informed," he then hung up.

"What happened?" Diana asked.

"Dietrich Bolle's escaped," Steve's voice was grave, "Someone, we don't know who, took the place of the sergeant who was driving the staff car to Fort Myer. They killed the intelligence officer who was handcuffed to Bolle and abandoned the car one mile from Fort Myer."

Diana looked shocked, "How did they do that?"

"They found the original driver, tied up and gagged in a storage closet on the base," Steve said, "He doesn't know who did it. Someone just came up behind him and knocked him out with a club. He never even saw his face."

"Steve this is really serious," her voice grew concerned, "Bolle's going to make another attempt on your life. You know that."

"I guess so," he sighed, "But that's a risk I'm going to have to live with for the time being."

She then came up to him with a determined look on her face, "Steve," she said firmly, "Until he's been recaptured, I'm not going to let you out of my sight."

He started to open his mouth, as if to protest, but then he caught himself.

"Sorry," he said, "For a split second, with you looking the way you do now, I forgot."

"That's okay," she smiled thinly.

"I really appreciate the help, Diana," he said with gratitude, "You've done a lot for me, and I'm not about to start refusing you. I only hope you won't be exposing yourself to any risks."

"I won't," she removed her glasses and looked deep into his eyes, "I made a promise three years ago that I'd always be there to protect you, and I've never let anything stop me from keeping that promise."

He rose from his chair and put his arms around her, "How did I ever become so blessed," he said, "To have an angel like you?"

They shared a brief passionate kiss, and then they quietly went back to work.

"All right," Bolle said, as he sat at the kitchen table of the safe house deep in the Virginia countryside, where three men towered above him, "What's this all about?"

The phony sergeant smirked, "The three of us, Herr Oberst, represent the last surviving members of your brother's organization, the Iron Brigade. I am Oberleutnant Kurt Hauser, and these are Wachtmeister's Karl Becker and Hans Sturber. When we heard about your arrest, we felt we owed it to his memory to free you."

"I appreciate that," Bolle said, "And I know I can count on you to further honor his memory, by helping me kill Colonel Trevor."

The three men exchanged glances.

"Herr Oberst," Becker, a heavyset blonde, said, "I'm afraid that won't be possible for now. Much as we despise Colonel Trevor, he is virtually an impregnable target. And you know the reason why."

"That infernal woman?" Bolle bristled, "So I was caught off guard. That won't happen again."

"Herr Oberst," this from Sturber, "What happened to you was not an aberration. Wonder Woman cannot be stopped. To even try, would be foolish suicide. Therefore, it would be wise to turn your thoughts away from Colonel Trevor as we have done, and toward more productive endeavors."

"What do you mean?" Bolle's face contorted, "What is there left for any of us, that could be more important than revenge?"

Kurt Hauser chuckled, "Herr Oberst," he said, "You misperceive our operation. When the Iron Brigade was broken up, all of us became resigned to the fact that the Third Reich was doomed. We have since found new employment."

Bolle stared at him.

"We now work for the Russians," Hauser said, "And it's our hope that you will join us in our efforts."

The SS colonel's face contorted into revulsion, "You work for the Russians?" his body began to tremble, "Those barbaric Bolsheviks?"

"I realize how difficult that is to believe, Herr Oberst," Hauser went on, "But I think it should be obvious to you, that America and Russia now represent the only two powers that will dictate the future of the world. And while there will always be elements of Bolshevism that we will never be comfortable with, it should be obvious to you that this is the only side to cast lots with."

Grim faced, Bolle slammed his fist against the table, "You have committed treason against the Reich you swore allegiance to."

"That's all irrelevant now for all time, Herr Oberst," Becker said pointedly, "Start dealing with realities. You can either try to flee to South America and join Eichmann, Mengele, and Borrmann, and waste away for the rest of your life dreaming empty dreams of restoring the Reich. Or you can let yourself be captured by the Americans, who will try you for attempted murder and put you in jail. Or you can put your talents to work for the only remaining power that will bring order to the world."

"You should give it a try, Herr Oberst," Sturber chimed in, "You will find that national socialism and communism have much in common."

"Certainly a lot more than with democratic liberal capitalism," Hauser laced his words with sarcasm, which brought laughter from the other two.

Bolle uneasily drummed his fingers on the table.

"All right," he said finally, "What do you have in mind?"

An hour later, a subdued Bolle closed the makeshift file folder that was labeled crudely, 'Manhattan Projekt.'

"This is incredible," he said, "Are the Americans really this close to success?"

"Our man inside the project confirms that a test will take place sometime in July," Hauser said, "What we need you to do, is to meet him again and find out if it has happened. If it has, then we want his complete observations of the test. If not, then you are to stay in New Mexico until it takes place, and to wait for his report."

"Why do you need me?" Bolle frowned, "What about your normal contact with this man?"

"He's unable to travel to New Mexico at the present time," Becker said, "Someone else has to do it."

"I see," Bolle looked down at the folder, "According to this, you have two men inside the project."

"Yes," Hauser nodded, "The other is a shop machinist corporal, who helped build one of the components. But you won't need to contact him. He's already passed along everything he can possibly know."

"And besides, you wouldn't like dealing with him," Sturber said with a tinge of sarcasm, "His name is David Greenglass."

Bolle's expression darkened, "If I am to find myself working with Jews, then I doubt very much I'll be inclined to work for your cause."

Hauser laughed in a disarming manner, "The American Jews who work in our network are all fools. Idealists in search of a cause, which they have found through Comrade Stalin. Rest assured, Herr Oberst, the ultimate imposition of world socialism will bring no special favors to the Jews, or any other inferior race."

"It's really best that you discard your Nazi baggage, Herr Oberst," Becker said in that pointed tone, "The Third Reich is dead. Nazism is dead. You must learn to change with the times, if you still wish to see world order achieved."

Bolle slowly shook his head, "You're asking too much of me. I'm an SS Standartenfuhrer. I cannot simply discard everything I've been taught about Bolshevism."

"Come, come, Herr Oberst," there was less warmth in Hauser's voice, "You forget your recent history. Germany and Russia were once allies. And had we stayed allies, then the Third Reich would have survived. Instead, Herr Hitler forgot who the real enemy was when he decided to break the Pact with Stalin and invade Russia before he'd conquered the British and the Americans."

Bolle slouched slightly in his chair, "I won't argue that point."

"And you shouldn't be arguing with us," Hauser looked him in the eye, "The Soviet Union is the only power left that can one day destroy this infernal menace of democracy and liberal capitalism. The menace that allows every form of decadence to run rampant. If we are to give her a head start in this battle, we must not allow the Americans to develop an advantage in this new weaponry."

"Already, the battle lines are being drawn up for World War III, Herr Oberst," Sturber's tone was more quiet, but equally blunt, "There will one day be conflict between East and West for ultimate control of the world. Perhaps not in this generation, but most certainly in the next. It is inevitable. Even if you choose not to help us, someone else will. It is in your best interest, that you become part of the forward tide of History."

"And if I refuse?"

Hauser smiled thinly and pulled out the pistol he'd used to kill the Army captain.

"I wouldn't recommend that, Herr Oberst. As much as we'd prefer not to dishonor your brother's memory, you will have left us with no choice."

"And don't think you can double-cross us, Herr Oberst," Becker jumped in, "The NKVD is even more ruthless than the SS when it comes to that."

For a moment, there was only silence from Bolle.

Finally, the SS colonel sagged in his chair and threw up his hands in resignation.

"Very well," he said, "I'll do it."

Chapter Five

July 7, 1945

General Blankenship idly finished reading the morning edition of the Washington Post, where one story dominated the headlines. Truman Leaves For Potsdam Summit. He then looked back at the latest Manhattan Project information from Secretary of War Henry Stimson and let out a mild chuckle. The motion of events was starting to pick up.

His phone buzzed and he promptly answered it, "Yes, Etta?"

"Colonel Trevor and Wonder Woman are here, sir."

"Good, send them in."

The door to Blankenship's office opened and Steve entered, followed by Wonder Woman, who wore an American flag design cape over her costume.

"Steve," the general took only a brief instant shaking Steve's hand and then moved over to Wonder Woman, "And Wonder Woman it's good to see you again. It's been too long."

"It's always an honor, sir." she smiled warmly.

"Sit down and make yourself comfortable," he motioned to the two chairs in front of his desk, "And I'll try to bring you up to date on what the Manhattan Project is all about."

"I'm very interested in knowing," she said, "From what Steve tells me, it will mean not having to invade the Japanese mainland."

Blankenship nodded, "That's what we're counting on," he said, "Has Steve told you exactly what kind of weapon it is?"

"No, he hasn't," she looked over at Steve and smiled.

"I told her that procedure dictated it come from you, General," Steve returned her smile.

The general smiled as well, "I'll try to explain it as best as I can. Before I do, I should ask you if you're familiar with the principal of developing the power of the atom."

"Of course," she said, "I'm familiar with what happened at Chicago three years ago, when the first nuclear reaction took place. Atomic energy can one day serve many needs."

"Indeed," said Blankenship, "And the first need it's going to serve is ending the war."

It took Wonder Woman almost a minute to grasp the general's words. When it finally sunk in, a cloud passed over her face.

"General," she said as evenly as she could, "Are you telling me that the Manhattan Project is an atomic weapon?"

The general nodded slowly, "We've had a team of scientists and men developing it for the last three years in the utmost secrecy. Our first concern was beating the Germans to it. Now, we need it to avoid going ahead with the invasion of Japan."

Wonder Woman's expression hardened into one of disbelief. Uneasily, Steve shot a glance at her and began to absently chew on his thumbnail.

"General," her neutral voice belied her expression, "Do you intend to directly use this weapon against Japan?"

"That's what it looks like," Blankenship said, "The test takes place on July 16. If it goes off all right, then Japan will be given a final ultimatum of unconditional surrender at the end of the Potsdam summit. If Japan refuses, then we plan to go ahead with aerial drops on pre-selected targets."

"I see," Wonder Woman nodded in understanding, but her expression remained somewhat dubious, "And what is to become of these weapons once the war is over?"

Blankenship shrugged, "That, I wouldn't know anything about."

"But General," she protested slightly, "Surely the people who've made this weapon possible realize the danger of letting this weapon become mass-produced. I recognize fully the need to use it on a one-time only basis to end the war, but if our leaders are contemplating this as the start of developing a full-scale atomic arsenal..." she trailed off, unable to find the right words.

Blankenship seemed puzzled by her reaction, while Steve began to uncomfortably slouch in his chair.

"Wonder Woman," the general said gently, "I haven't the vaguest notion of what role atomic weapons will play in the post-war world. But I do know, that if they work we can't ever put the genie back in the bottle. The capability will exist for anyone to develop it, including potential enemies. No one who's worked on this project seriously thinks that when the war is over, we can just burn all the blueprints and forget that it ever existed."

"I-" she started and then broke off, sighed and tried to start over, "General, Steve, I want to apologize for the way I'm acting. It's just that I've long been aware of what the power of nuclear energy released in a weapon can do, and all I can see is a recurring image of mass destruction. If these weapons are to become the norm in warfare from now on, the consequences would be horrifying for all of humanity."

"I doubt very much that you'll ever see atom bombs used with the same regularity as conventional weapons," the general tried to inject a note of reassurance, "My understanding is that if the world's nuclear stockpile can't be placed under some form of international control, then it will in all probability become a weapon of last resort, as it’s being used now."

"I wish I could be convinced of that, General," she said sadly, "But it will be some time before I can come to term with these doubts I'm feeling."

She then straightened herself and her voice tried to regain an upbeat tone, "But I realize that's all in the future and that the immediate concern is using it to end the war. And I'd be most honored to witness the test and put in an appearance for the soldiers stationed there."

"I'm glad to hear that," Blankenship smiled and seemed to relax, "I can't attend the test myself, but you and Steve will be leaving on the 12th for Albuquerque. You'll be staying with the other VIP's who've been invited to witness the test. The general tour will take up the next three days, the personal appearance for the men on the 15th, and the test on the 16th."

"That will be fine," Wonder Woman smiled, "I'll be looking forward to it."

"I'm sure you'll find the experience most illuminating," the general rose, "I have to leave now for a meeting with General Marshall. In the meantime, I want to say again how much we appreciate your coming. And I know I'm speaking for the entire War Department when I tell you that you have our eternal gratitude for everything you've done for the war effort. Hopefully, we'll be able to give you some proper recognition for all that, sometime in the future."

"That means a lot to me, General," Wonder Woman seemed touched, "Just knowing that I was able to do my job in helping America destroy the evil of Nazism for all time. No further honors are necessary."

"They will be," Blankenship wryly smiled as he shook hands with her, "They will be." and after shaking hands with Steve, he left the office.

Alone, Steve slowly turned around and looked at her. The dark cloud of unease had returned to her face.

"Diana," he said gently, "Are you going to be all right?"

"I'll be fine," her voice was abrupt, "I'll be fine."

"You had me worried for a minute," he said.

"Steve," she looked up at him, "Right now, I don't want to talk about it. I--" she broke off and uneasily exhaled, "Steve, I know we agreed on lunch, but I think I'd rather go back to my apartment for awhile. I need to think."

Steve looked stunned.

"I'll, I'll call you later, I--"

"Diana," he interrupted gently, trying to conceal the hurt in his voice, "Aren't you forgetting something?"

Diana frowned, "I don't understand."

"Colonel Dietrich Bolle," he said patiently, "Or have you changed your mind?"

She flushed in embarrassment, "Oh God, no Steve. No. No, I won't leave you. I, I'm sorry about that."

"Forget it," he said with a trace of sadness, "I think maybe for your sake, you should go back to your apartment. I'll be fine."

"No, Steve," she clasped his hand, "Forgive me. I just got distracted. I didn't mean to."

"It's all right," his voice returned to its gentle, soothing tone, "I'm sorry I got on you for that."

But inside, Steve still felt an enormous sense of unease. If the Manhattan Project could rattle her to the point of forgetting about Bolle, then what might happen later on?

An answer he didn't want to consider popped into the back of his mind. He quickly pushed it away, and tried to bury it, hoping he never had to consider again.

But the answer that Steve did not want to consider, was all that raged through Diana's mind that night, as she lay alone in the guest bedroom of Steve's apartment, sprawled out on the bed.

Time and again, she thought of the story of Pandora, that her mother had told her about many times during her childhood. The story of the foolish girl who'd opened the box that unleashed the forces of evil on the world, and had been unable to put them back in. She felt now, as if she were living through a present day parallel to the story.

In addition to that, she found the doubts that she'd thought she'd conquered, returning. If mankind was about to unleash this terror of atomic weapons on the world, then how could she justify her belief that man was moving forward, away from the ways of war and barbarism? Even if the weapons were developed by good men in the United States, could they effectively safeguard them from falling into the hands of evil?

She could hear her mother's voice. That soft, regal voice that had been her only source of knowledge for more than 2000 years, telling her that the answer was no. The history of man showed time and again, that the evil, warlike side of man was always stronger. Perhaps not strong enough to let those like Hitler endure, but strong enough to bring them to power at least. And in a new world of such terrible weapons of destructive power, would there be any chance for the forces of good to defeat the next Hitler? Would the rise of a new Hitler be enough to set forward the very end of humanity itself, in a war waged exclusively with atomic weapons?

There's nothing you can do about it, Diana, she heard Hippolyte's voice echo in her mind. There's nothing you can do. Man will use these terrible weapons to fight wars that you will never be able to prevent. Wars that will finally see man's martial aggressiveness finally destroy himself. Your place is not with them. Your place is with your sisters on Paradise Island, where we will preserve the ways of peace and harmony for eternity.

She looked up at the ceiling, and she found herself clutching the sheets with her hands, as she wrestled with the tension in her mind, heart, and soul.

Diana glanced over at the end table, and noticed Steve's Bible that she'd been reading in her spare time. She'd always been fascinated by the Judeo-Christian religion more than any of the others she had studied. There had even been fleeting moments when she’d wondered if it was possible for an Amazonian like herself to embrace it as her own. Whether as a Christian who accepted Jesus Christ as the Messiah, or as a Jew who did not, she wasn't sure, but certainly as one who believed in the idea of a single God who had created the world and was in ultimate control of human history. Granted, it was so far from the religion she'd been brought up with, but Diana found it remarkable that its basic core philosophy had been able to endure in the world for so long. Embodied by a philosophy of peace and love not too dissimilar from her own, particularly in the phrase, "Blessed are the peacemakers."

But now, as she questioned her desire to stay in America, she now questioned her reasons for doubting the reality of the Greco-Roman polytheism of her people, centered around Aphrodite. The test of a religion was its ability to endure, she had said. But maybe it hadn't been able to endure because of mankind's corruptness in the world he controlled. Maybe mankind didn't worship at the altar of Ares anymore, but perhaps he still did his bidding. Maybe the truth could only have endured on Paradise Island, the center of higher knowledge.

As Diana thought more about Paradise Island, she found herself closing her eyes and smiling as memories of her home came back to her. Memories that had grown dim in the last three years, but now seemed vivid. Happy memories of the home she loved. The home where she could escape from the evil and fear of the world.

But then Diana bolted upright and opened her eyes as another thought entered her mind. Steve. What about Steve? The man she loved. The man for whom she'd have gladly given up Paradise Island. The man she wanted to marry, and have children with.

Her love for Steve felt just as intense as it had before. But now, with her doubts about the future, could she make him happy as his wife? Would she be forcing herself to endure a life of misery, filled with homesickness for Paradise Island and depression about the future, and in the end destroying the love they felt?

Questions, questions. Unending questions. Questions she'd never wanted to confront, but now threatened to destroy her unless she answered them soon.

She folded her hands as if she wanted to pray, but then realized that she didn't know who to pray to. To Aphrodite, the sacred goddess of her people, whose existence she doubted but who nonetheless embodied the values she felt closer too? Or to the mysterious single God, who embodied values that seemed irreconcilable with the evil that existed in the world?

As if to seek temporary comfort from that set of questions, she began reciting the prayers to Aphrodite she'd been taught as a child, only because it was the only way she knew how to pray. "Help me," she whispered again and again when she was through, "Help me know what is right."

In the other room, Steve sat at his desk trying to chase the unease from his mind, and finding that it only made him dwell on it even more.

Finally, like Diana, he closed his eyes and prayed, but with the confident serenity of a faith he'd known all his life. "Lord Jesus," he whispered, "Right now, the woman I love, the woman I believe You have led me to, is troubled. Even though she is not a believer, I ask that You show her Your divine love and guidance, and help her to ease the doubts that I know she feels. Help her to realize, as I have, the peace that comes in knowing that You are in ultimate control of the world. All this I pray, in Your name, Amen."

And then, he too, turned off the light and went to bed.

At the same moment that Steve and Diana honored their religions and went to sleep, Dietrich Bolle was wide awake aboard the first leg of a Pan Am flight from Washington to Albuquerque, offering no prayers to a God he had never believed in.

For the tenth time, he glanced at his reflection in the window, marveling at how different he looked. The moustache was gone now, and the grayish hair dyed to its original black color. Without question, it made him look fifteen years younger, almost like an innocent schoolboy.

But inside, the determined venom that had made him one of the most ruthless officers in the SS, still raged. And how he was going to be able to channel it to work for the Russians with a clear conscience, he still had no idea.

For now though, he had no choice but to go through the motions of helping the Russians. But sooner or later, he'd find a way to get back at the only target he was interested in. Colonel Steve Trevor and that infernal bitch called Wonder Woman. Then maybe, with his thirst for revenge satisfied, he could finally look ahead with a clear conscience.

But for now, as he looked out the window at the nighttime landscape and finished his drink, his immediate concern lay with a scientist from inside the Manhattan Project, with whom he would try to make first contact with sometime tomorrow.

Chapter Six: July 12, 1945

Sleep had not come easy to Diana, the last several days. So much so, that she had sneaked a sleeping pill from Steve's medicine chest to try and relax herself on this night.

But this time, the anxiety and restlessness that had previously kept her awake, now invaded her sleep.

Her dream began peacefully, filled with the warmly reassuring sights of Steve, Etta and all her friends. Then, images of people at work and play all over Washington. Sights that had become intimately familiar to her these last three years.

Then, suddenly the images froze. And then, a horrible, ugly light bathed the scene, burning in intensity. The images suddenly began turning into skeletal forms, like an X-ray. And then, they disappeared, and the light grew blinding...

Diana abruptly awoke, her body in a cold sweat. For a moment, she sat upright, exhaling repeatedly in a mixture of horror and relief.

"Hera help me," she whispered as she wiped her brow, "Oh dear Hera and Aphrodite, no."

She knew what it meant. Her unconscious mind had envisioned a war fought with atomic weapons. Something, that would seem all but inevitable if this test came off.

Diana pulled her legs up to her, and stared down in deep contemplation. Inside, anxiety and fear raged with an intensity she'd never felt before.

And all this from a dream of what it might look like. How would she react, and what nightmares would invade her mind when she witnessed the real thing in just six more days?

She shuddered even more, as she contemplated that latter thought. And now, a dawning realization was growing inside her as well. Nothing would ever be able to chase these demons from her mind. If anything, they would only grow as atomic weapons were developed even further. There would be more nightmares, more anxiety, more uncertainty. The story of Pandora would be repeated on an even more grotesque scale. And this time, the demons unleashed might very well mean the end of mankind and his civilization.

The never-ending uncertainty would always be there if she decided to spend the rest of her life in America. Was all that worth it? Even with the man she loved, would she ever know a life of peace and calm in a world where the terror of atomic destruction could be unleashed any second?

No, Diana, she could hear Hipployte's voice once again. You can never know peace in the world of men. This weapon means the beginning of the end for them. You know that.

But Steve, her mind cried out, what about Steve? How can I envision life without Steve? I love him.

Diana exhaled again, and folded her arms. She knew what she wanted. She wanted the safe tranquility of Paradise Island and Steve. And she had to give up one of them.

But wait, she thought. Why did she have to give up one? What was there that said she could not have both? What if she could persuade Steve to see the hopelessness of the world situation and come with her to Paradise Island? And then, they could be together forever, in total peace and harmony.

Oh yes, Mother would object to the presence of any man on Paradise Island. But maybe it was time for Diana to start pulling some weight as the future queen of the Amazons. Maybe it was time to force some change on the way things had been. Maybe it was time for the women of Paradise Island to be free to know love again. To bring in men who could learn the ways of peace and harmony that reigned over Paradise Island.

Yes, she thought with determination. Yes, by Hera, she would fight for all that. And she'd win. She'd enlist all the women she could to her cause, and then Hippolyte would have to give in. And if she didn't, then Diana would play her trump card. It didn't matter whether Hippolyte agreed to it or not. Diana would implement her ideas the day she officially became queen, so it made no difference in the long-run whether Hippolyte liked it or not. She couldn't stop it.

For the first time, Diana felt the anxiety dissipate. Now that she knew how to handle Mother, the next question was how to convince Steve to join her.

But why should that present any problems? Steve had no living family. He had no ties to this world that would be difficult to give up. Surely, Steve would see the obvious. That their future didn't belong here, in the world of fear, anxiety and war that would one day destroy itself. It belonged on Paradise Island.

Just then, her plotting and planning was disrupted by the sound of Steve lightly knocking on the door.

"Diana?" she heard his muffled voice call.

"In a minute, Steve," she threw back the sheets, stood up and did her magical pirouette that transformed her into her Wonder Woman costume. After adjusting it slightly, she went up to the door and opened it.

Steve was already showered and dressed, his uniform immaculately straight, "Hi," he smiled, "Ready for a day of traveling?"

"Totally," she returned the smile, "Are we flying a military or commercial plane?"

"Strictly military," he said, "We wouldn't want a planeload of civilians going ga-ga for twelve hours at the sight of you, would we?"

"I still say we should have taken my own plane."

"Uh-uh," Steve shook his head, "Wonder Woman still has too many trade secrets that shouldn't get out yet. Especially the invisible plane."

"You'll regret that when the MATS flight makes you airsick and takes twice as long," Diana coyly smiled and put her arms around him.

"All in the line of duty," he grinned, "Just like this," and he pulled her to him and they kissed.

As Diana relaxed in their passionate kiss, she thought again of how much she needed both things that she loved. And of her determination to keep both for the rest of her life.

And she swore by Aphrodite and Hera that nothing would prevent her from having both. Nothing at all.

"Mmmmm," Steve murmured in delight as he nuzzled her neck, "How fast could your plane get us there?"

"Three hours," she whispered back as her body tingled with pleasure.

He let out a sigh of resignation, "If I weren't a religious man with a strict set of sexual morals, I'd be tempted to let us use the extra nine hours by staying here and fooling around."

"You won't have to wait much longer," she stepped back and brushed her finger across his lips, "It will all come soon."

"Which is one reason why I hope this test goes off without a hitch," Steve's voice returned to a more businesslike level, "If this thing doesn't work, then we'll have to get prepared for Operation Olympic. The invasion of Japan and something no one’s tried since the Mongols failed in the 13^th century."

Diana's lips thinned into a straight line. His offhand remark made her wonder when the time would be right to tell Steve about the plans she had for them.

"Let's get going," she managed to smile.

Steve returned it and arm-in-arm, they left the apartment to begin their long-day's journey to New Mexico.

At the edge of the Castillo Bridge, overlooking the Santa Fe river outside Santa Fe, Dietrich Bolle impatiently lit his sixth cigarette in the last fifteen minutes and paced back and forth. For five days, since his arrival in Albuquerque, he'd wanted only to get this meeting with the Manhattan Project scientist done with. And then, one delay after the other as his initial phone call to the scientist produced suspicion and skepticism because it wasn't the normal contact. Finally, the coded phone call from the scientist this morning, telling him to meet him here, all the way up in Santa Fe, 200 miles away.

If this is how the Russians gather intelligence, then it'll be a miracle if they can beat the Americans.

He looked down Alameda Street and saw a battered Buick slowly coming toward him. He could hear repetitive thuds, caused by patched-up tires rolling over the road surface.

Bolle crushed his cigarette with his heel and smiled faintly. That had to be him.

As the car pulled up beside him, Bolle did a quick mental check of what the file had said about this man. A native German, who had fled the Nazi regime in 1934 because of his Communist associations. Now a British citizen, he had been recruited for the Manhattan Project as part of the team of British physicists attached to the project. An active Soviet agent since 1942. Outstanding personal characteristics: a fierce streak of independence that often bred a deep self-arrogance, and a rigid devotion to Communist ideology.

Subject's name: Klaus Emil Fuchs.

The passenger door opened and Bolle got in. He closed the door and then looked at the driver.

Staring back at him was a wiry, frail man of about average height. He was dressed in a brown leather jacket and an open collared shirt, and his eyes were magnified by a pair of tortoise-shell glasses that made him resemble an owl.

"Herr Doktor?" Bolle casually inquired.

"English," Klaus Fuchs snapped impatiently as he shifted the car into drive, "Talk English."

Bolle settled back in the seat and struggled desperately to remain polite. "My apologies, Herr Doctor. I only thought--"

"Let's keep the formalities to a minimum," the scientist's tone was brusque, "All I know about you is that you're a former Nazi who's decided to join the Russians for reasons of pure opportunism. That's all I ever want to know, because if I learn anything more, I probably won't be able to get through this nauseating experience of having to work with you."

The SS colonel bit his tongue, as he tried to keep the rage boiling inside him from exploding. If he fouled this up, it would be his head.

"Very well," Bolle said evenly, "I--"

"I'm only doing this because I received a call from Harry Gold assuring me that I could trust you, and that he had legitimate reasons for not being able to make the trip out here. As far as I'm concerned, every last one of you hunds who ever wore the Nazi uniform should be shot."

"Herr Doctor," Bolle's patience was straining, "What you think of me and what I once was, is not relevant. What should matter to you is that I'm now working for the same cause you so passionately believe in. The longer you sit and insult me, the less good you are doing that cause."

"I don't think so," he said flippantly, "From what Harry implied, you've been caught in a difficult position that forces you to take it, no matter what."

Harry Gold, Bolle thought in disgust. How many more Jews were there in this ridiculous operation? In addition to Gold, he'd learned that the brother-in-law of the other contact, David Greenglass, was also active in the atom spy network. A man named Julius Rosenberg.

What on earth ever possessed Hauser, Becker and Sturber to join this operation? And of all people, why did he have to be thrust into it?

Maybe an American jail would have been better for my sanity.

"Herr Doctor," he barely managed to get his words out, "Can we return to the issue at hand?"

"Very well," Fuchs' voice became civil for the first time, "The test will take place next Sunday, July 16th, sometime early in the morning."

"Next Sunday?" Bolle's expression grew crestfallen, "That's four days."

"So it is," the physicist said curtly, "I will be witnessing the test personally. On the 24th, I will make contact with you again and hand over to you my complete notes on the test."

"And I'm supposed to stay in this godforsaken hellhole for the next two weeks and wait?"

"It would seem so," Fuchs continued to avoid looking at him, keeping his eyes straight ahead on the open road, "But that's for you to decide. In the meantime, I can fill you in on the steps that have been taken since my last contact with Harry Gold. They should be of interest to your superiors, if not to yourself."

Again, Bolle bit his tongue as he took out a notepad and pen.

"General Groves has been most anxious to get this test off by mid-July," Fuchs began, "Particularly while the Potsdam summit is going on. President Truman would much prefer to learn of a successful test while he's there and be able to break the news to Marshal Stalin personally..."

As Fuchs continued to drive through the streets of Santa Fe, Bolle patiently took notes, trying to keep up with what the scientist revealed. He took them in silence, sensing that Fuchs had no desire to be interrupted.

"....The VIP's are arriving in Albuquerque tonight. Most of them are scientific representatives who've only known the general details of the project. There's also one or two representatives from the press, to write up the exclusive stories when this becomes public, some top military men, and," he let out a light chuckle, "And the most bizarre VIP in the lot. Wonder Woman."

Bolle stopped writing and looked over at Fuchs in bewilderment, "Wonder Woman is going to be here for the test?"

"Yes," Fuchs continued looking ahead, "She's going to make some personal appearance for the men at base camp on Saturday, the 15th, a sort of morale boosting show for all the unfortunate GI's who've been without a furlough since April and yearn for the sight of a pretty body."

The ex-SS colonel began tapping his pen against the paper in contemplation.

"I couldn't believe it when I heard it," Fuchs went on, "But from what I've heard, Secretary Stimson owed General Blankenship a favor, and that meant letting Wonder Woman and that aide of his come see everything."

"His aide?" Bolle's head darted up, "Colonel Steve Trevor?"

"I wouldn't know his name," the scientist shrugged and then glanced at him for the first time, "Why should that matter to you?"

He relaxed slightly and settled back in his seat, "Nothing, nothing. Go on."

Thirty minutes later, Fuchs pulled his lumbering car into the Santa Fe bus station.

"Tomorrow, the bomb will be transported from Los Alamos to the Trinity test site. That's everything that has happened up to now," the scientist said in the same neutral tone, "I've summarized all the political factors behind the test, the test location, and the manner in which it will take place. All that's left is the test itself."

"This has been most fascinating, Herr Doctor," Bolle said, "I look forward to our next meeting. When and where?"

"As I said earlier, Monday the 24th," Fuchs said, "That should allow enough time in case the test is delayed at the last minute."

"The same place?"

"No," he shook his head, "Next time, at a small adobe church outside the city. Here are the directions for you to give to the cab driver when you arrive in Santa Fe," he shoved him a slip of paper.

"Thank you," Bolle said, "I've enjoyed this very much."

"I haven't," an edge of contempt entered Fuchs' voice, "I hope our next meeting will be our last."

"Herr Doctor," Bolle opened the door and stepped out, "I work on the same side with you. So do a lot of other former Nazis. Don't think your cause can triumph so easily without our help."

"I'd prefer that our cause not be contaminated by men like you," the scientist looked at him with pure hate, "Because of men like you, and the terror you waged against us, my father was thrown in a concentration camp, my mother committed suicide, and my sister threw herself in front of a train."

Bolle stared back at him and said nothing.

"But I suppose that if we must recruit hunds like you to assure a speedier triumph of world socialism, perhaps it will have been worth it." he turned away and started up the car, "Good day."

"Good day," Bolle pushed the door shut and with disdain, watched him drive off.

As he turned and headed inside the station to take the bus back to Albuquerque, the Manhattan Project and the information Fuchs had given him were the furthest things from his mind.

It was well after nine in the evening when the MATS DC-3 that had left Washington twelve hours earlier, landed at Albuquerque airport. Seated alone together in the back, Wonder Woman gave the sleeping Steve a gentle nudge.

"Wake up Steve," she whispered softly, "We're finally here."

Slowly, Steve came to and rubbed his eyes, "Hoo boy, is it finally over?"

"It's over," she smiled down at him and stroked his forehead, "Was it worth it?"

"No," he came upright in his seat, "Next time, I'm going to let you talk me into using your plane."

Up front, the door opened and a short Army major came aboard.

"Colonel Trevor and Wonder Woman?" he said as he made his way back to them, "I'm Major Reynolds from Special Services. Welcome to Albuquerque."

"Thank you, Major," Wonder Woman smiled politely, "It's an honor to be here."

"Well I can assure you we appreciate your being here, Wonder Woman. I know that when we told the men last night that you were coming, they all jumped nine miles and still haven't come down," he grinned, "In the meantime, I'm here to escort you to the hotel. There's a staff car waiting on the runway so you can avoid going through the airport."

"That'll be fine," Steve rose from his seat, allowing Wonder Woman to get out as well, "When do we head out to the base camp?"

"Not until tomorrow, the 13th," Major Reynolds said, "That's when all the elements for the test will be in place. I'll be giving you both a full briefing at the hotel."

"All right, Major," Steve put his hat on, "Lead the way."

On an observation deck at the airport, Bolle stared through binoculars at the DC-3 that had just landed. He had come straight here since returning to Albuquerque three hours ago, and had staked himself out, watching every plane that had come in, hoping to catch a glimpse of the only quarry he was interested in.

His hopes were raised when he saw the staff car pull up in front of the stairs leading up to the aircraft. That meant there were definitely VIP's aboard.

And then, he saw two blurred uniformed men emerge followed by a bright gold and red costume that stood out in the night. He lifted his binoculars and grinned in satisfaction. It was her. That infernal bitch. And one of the two men had to be Trevor.

Now where was it that Fuchs said the VIP's would be staying? Oh yes, the Albuquerque Hilton.

He reentered the terminal entrance, and suddenly found himself face-to-face with the frowning visage of an airport security guard.

"So tell me mister," the guard said with an air of suspicion, "Did you have fun for three hours out there?"

"I like to watch planes," he said in flawless English and matched the guard's expression, "You've got a problem with that?"

The guard shrugged, "Just seems like a strange way to blow an evening."

"Then why do you work here?" Bolle let his voice drip with sarcasm as he walked past him without looking back.

If he had looked back, he would have seen the guard extend his middle finger at him.

"We'll be going in through a back entrance, once we arrive at the hotel," Major Reynolds said as the staff car drove through Albuquerque, "Sorry for the stealth, but General Groves didn't think it would be good to have Wonder Woman making a public scene and arousing local suspicion."

"That shouldn't have been a problem," Wonder Woman said as she rolled down the window to let the breeze blow in, "The public knows there's a military base so they wouldn't have anything to be suspicious about. I've made a dozen appearances at bases all over the country throughout the war."

The major shrugged, "That might be, but the general wouldn't have it any other way."

"I haven't seen General Groves in about four years, but I never knew him to be paranoid." Steve said off-handedly as he rolled down the window on his side.

Reynolds smirked, "When you're heading a project of this importance, Colonel, it does all sorts of things to you. Now that we're barely three days from the test, the security concerns are only heightening."

"Is there any danger of sabotage?" Wonder Woman asked.

"Not that we can tell, but we're certainly going to keep on our toes."

"Well now that Wonder Woman's here, Major, the general doesn't have to worry anymore," Steve said with a trace of pride that made her blush slightly, "Is he going to meet us tomorrow?"

Reynolds shook his head, "The general's on the west coast making a last tour of nuclear facilities there. He'll be here Saturday. I'll be your tour guide in the meantime, and I'll be letting the scientists from Los Alamos do all the talking when they show you around tomorrow."

The major then leaned back and smiled, "I'll tell you one thing, when this thing goes off we'll finally have the Japs right where we want them."

"Yes," Wonder Woman smiled weakly and looked out the window. The unease she'd been feeling, on and off ever since she'd learned about the bomb, was now returning. And with it, the unease about how she'd try to reveal her plans to Steve.

The dim glow of lights caused her to turn around and look out the rear windshield.

"Major," she said, "Is it my imagination, or are we being tailed?"

Reynolds turned around and looked, as did Steve. They could both see the bright headlights of a car, not twenty feet behind them.

"It's one car," Steve said, "But that probably doesn't mean anything."

The bright lights then veered off to one side.

"No problem," the major said, "He's pulling into the right lane. There's a light up ahead and he's probably going to turn off."

The car slowly came to a stop as the traffic light turned red. The other car, a dark Kaiser, pulled up to a stop alongside them.

Wonder Woman looked out the window and could see the driver, just six feet away. There was an innocent look to the youthful face, but there was something about the eyes...

Suddenly, the driver lifted his arm and tossed an object that landed through the open window, and into the back seat where Wonder Woman, Steve, and Reynolds were.

"What the--" Steve blurted as he felt the object hit his leg and bounce onto the floor.

"Get out of the car, it's a grenade!" she screamed as the other car roared off.

"Holy shit!" Reynolds barely had time to exclaim as Steve immediately opened his door and Wonder Woman shoved both of them out, while up front, the driver quickly opened his door and spilled out.

Wonder Woman took one helpless glan