Polar Shift by Clive Cussler, Paul Kemprecos

grin.
    Kovacs responded with a look of mock horror. "Not if you are at the wheel."
    "You're looking well, old friend."
    "Yes, you too. Different, however. I wasn't sure at first. But it's the same old Karl."
    "I shouldn't have come here," Schroeder said.
    "Please, my friend, it was fated that we would meet again. I have so much to thank you for."
    "Knowing that you are well and prosperous is thanks enough. Now I must go."
    "We must talk first," Kovacs said. He told his driver to wait, and led the way back into the lab. "There is no one here," he said.
    They passed through lab rooms filled with electrical contraptions that would have been at home in Frankenstein's lab and settled in a luxurious office.
    "You've done well," Schroeder said. "I'm glad to see that."
    "I've been very fortunate. And you?"
    "I am happy, although my home isn't as rich looking as yours."
    "You've been to my house? Of course, I should have known. You touch all the bases, as they say in our adopted country."
    "You have a family?"
    A cloud passed over Kovacs's brow, but then he smiled. "Yes, I remarried. And you?"
    "There have been many women, but I continue to be a loner."
    "Most unfortunate. I'd like to introduce you to my wife and daughter."
    Schroeder shook his head. This was as far as it goes, he said. Kovacs said he understood. Schroeder's presence would raise too many questions. Both of them still had enemies in the world. They talked for another hour, until Schroeder finally asked the question that had been on his mind.
    "I assume you have buried the frequencies?"
    Kovacs tapped his forehead. "Up here, now and forever."
    "You are aware that there was an attempt to capitalize on your work. The Russians found material at the lab and tried to make it work for them."
    Kovacs smiled. "I am like the aunt who writes down her cookie recipe for the family but leaves out an important ingredient. Their experiments would have taken them only so far."
    "They tried. Our adopted country conducted similar research, once the government found out what was going on. Then the experiments stopped."
    "There is no need to worry. I haven't forgotten what my work did to my first family."
    Satisfied with the answer, Schroeder said he had to go. They shook hands and embraced. Schroeder gave Kovacs an address to get in touch with him, if needed. They vowed to talk again, but years passed without contact. Then one day, Schroeder checked his blind box and found a message from the Hungarian.
    "I need your help again," the message said.
    When he called, the scientist said, "Something terrible has happened."
    This time, Schroeder went directly to the Grosse Pointe mansion. Kovacs greeted him at the door. He looked terrible. He had aged well, the only visible change a graying of his hair, but there were dark circles under his eyes, and his voice was hoarse, as if he had been crying. They sat in the study, and Kovacs explained that his wife had died a few years before. Their son had married a wonderful woman, he said, but they were both killed in a car crash a few weeks before.
    When Schroeder offered his condolences, Kovacs thanked him, and said there was one way he could help. He spoke into an intercom, and a few minutes later a nursemaid came in. She was holding a beautiful, blond baby girl.
    "My granddaughter, Karla," Kovacs said, proudly taking the baby. "She is named after an old friend who, I hope, will soon be her godfather."
    He handed the baby to Schroeder, who held her awkwardly in his arms. Schroeder was touched by the invitation and accepted the responsibility. As the girl grew up, he made several trips to Grosse Pointe, where he was referred to as Uncle Karl, and had become entranced by her grace and intelligence. On one occasion, she and her grandfather had spent several days in Montana. They were sitting on the porch of his log cabin, watching the girl chasing butterflies, when Kovacs revealed that he had a fatal illness.
    "I am going to die soon. My granddaughter is