“And the fungus will begin moving both east and west with weather patterns.”
The old woman nodded weakly.
“But Keysar Flats is the key. If we can stop Tantalus there, we can stop it altogether.”
The old woman was breathing hard now, her strength ebbing. She grasped the bedspread tight as if to hold on to life. The doctor hovered over her again, probing with stethoscope. She pushed him away.
“Not anymore,” she managed. “Our plan was merely to eliminate field crops in the U.S. and Canada. That didn’t suit Mandala. He has expanded the operation. Sunday is when the planes are scheduled to leave Keysar Flats. On Monday he will release the fungus in South America.”
“But the Committee owns those lands.”
“Mandala is not part of the Committee. We are a civilized body. Yes, our plan was to use genetic crop production to overcome the loss in the market caused by the destruction of crops across North America. The world would go on, but the United States and Soviet Union would be hostages to us.” The old woman lost her breath, snatched it back. “Chaos would reign throughout the U.S. but our crops would be the linchpins of order through the rest of the world. It was the beginning of a far deeper plan.”
Audra St. Clair hesitated as death reached out for her.
“With destruction of lands in South America, our order will disintegrate. Massive starvation will result. Economic chaos and upheaval will spread everywhere. We teeter on a tightrope. Mandala is going to push us off, even if that means spreading Tantalus … everywhere.”
“He could destroy the world,” Locke said.
The old woman nodded, face hardening. “But he can still be stopped. If North America can be saved, there is hope. His fleet of planes at Keysar Flats will be well protected but vulnerable to the right kind of attack.” St. Clair reached out and grasped Locke’s arm. He stiffened but didn’t pull away. “You and Nikki …” She was fighting for air every two or three words now. “… two of you must go there, go to Keysar Flats in Texas and find planes…. Destroy them before … contents of canisters … is released. Only sure way to kill fungus … is while it lies in inert state. Planes … must be burned, blown … up.”
“What about going to the American government for help?” Locke wondered. “They’d have to believe—”
“No!” the old woman ordered, fingers digging into his flesh. “Mandala’s people everywhere. Government channels too open, take too much time to clear. Might … be walking right into him. Can’t take risk. No time.”
Audra St. Clair started to rasp horribly. The doctor started to herd the others out of the room.
“No,” she commanded him in a voice that was barely a whisper, “not yet.” Back to Locke now. “Mandala’s dangerous. Avoid him at all costs. Avoid his giant.” Her eyes dipped in and out of consciousness. She was rambling. “Bullets … can’t … kill him.”
Locke shuddered. “He’s the one who broke my fingers. I shot him six times. Six times and he kept coming!”
“Thanks to space-age steel, not magic” came a voice from the doorway.
Locke turned and saw Dogan. “Ross!”
“It’s good to see you, Chris, and quite a surprise.”
Audra St. Clair’s eyes wandered. “Grendel? Here? Alive?”
Dogan stepped forward. “I’m here, Madame St. Clair, and I’m very much alive.”
She looked up at Locke. “Tell him everything I told you. He’ll know what to do. He’ll know … how to stop Mandala….”
The old woman’s voice tailed off and she slumped forward. The doctor rushed over and checked her eyes and pulse.
“She’s alive,” he announced grimly. “But it won’t be long now.”
Chris looked over at Nikki and noticed her tears for the first time. She was holding the old woman’s hand tenderly. So many questions had been answered now, so much was clear. Nikki was his half sister! No wonder she looked so familiar to him. No wonder—
Dogan’s hand grasped his shoulder, lifting him from his daze.
“Let’s go downstairs and sort this thing out.”
Locke started to follow him from the room. Nikki let go of her mother’s hand.
“I thought you’d want … to stay with her,” Chris said.
“You heard her last orders. My place is with you.” Then, toward Dogan: “And him.”
“Meet my guardian angel, Ross, and my … sister.”
Then everything fell into place for Dogan. “The old woman’s your mother, isn’t she?” he asked softly.
Locke just nodded.
In the downstairs study, the three of them were met by a large, dark man with a black eyepatch. Both Locke and Nikki noticed a number of armed men standing around the perimeter of the semicircular drive before the castle.
“This is Masvidal,” Dogan said, “who has graciously agreed to lend us his firepower.”
“It must have been his people I saved you from in London,” Nikki explained, “the ones who sent the old hag to take you out later in Liechtenstein.”
“All that’s in the past,” Dogan cut in before Locke could respond. “We’re all together now and that’s the only way we can win. First I want to hear everything Audra St. Clair told you.”
Chris related her words as best he could with Nikki adding elaboration on several key points.
“My God!” Dogan said at the end. He thought of the vague accusations of the woman in the shack before he killed her. She had been there to stand guard over the next phase of Mandala’s operation. “Mandala’s going back to San Sebastian.”
“And taking his Chinese monster along, no doubt,” Chris added. “What was it you said about space-age steel?”
“Our scientists — and others obviously — have been experimenting for years with a thin but virtually impenetrable alloy that can be molded to fit the body of a man. It would protect him from any shot other than a direct hit to the head or neck. This man Shang must make that kind of steel underlayer a regular part of his wardrobe.” Dogan paused tensely. “But Mandala’s our problem now.”
Minutes later they were inspecting a map of Texas. They saw that Keysar Flats covered a surprisingly large patch.
“Christ”—Chris moaned—“it’s the size of Rhode Island.”
Keysar Flats was located in northern Texas, nearly two hundred miles east of Lubbock off Route 82. The North Wichita River was its central landmark.
“Those cropdusters won’t be easy to find,” Locke persisted.
“You’ll have help,” Dogan promised, and his eyes moved from the map to Masvidal. “How many men can you get to Texas?”
“Given two days, between a hundred and twenty-five and a hundred and fifty.”
“Equipment and weapons?”
“I’ll have them brought up through Mexico. A few helicopters should be easy to get. They should make the search for the planes far simpler.”
“I’ll say,” Locke noted. “It’ll be damned impossible otherwise.”
“You’ll need lots of explosives too,” Dogan told Masvidal.
The head of SAS-Ultra smiled. “My specialty.”
“How did you find us here?” Locke asked Dogan, who gave him a brief review of what he had learned in San Sebastian and from Vaslov.
“The Committee’s planners are out of the way for good,” he said at the end. “Mandala’s the only thing we have to concern ourselves with.” He looked at Locke closely. “Chris, you and Nikki will go straight from here on the fastest route to Texas. We’ll have to come up with a rendezvous point for you to link up with Masvidal in or near Keysar Flats on …” He looked to the one-eyed man for the answer.