“Barnes, you’ve got this building. Shoot the hostages the minute the first avatar comes in here.”
“Roger that, Sergeant Major.”
“ Jackson, I want you to be our eye in the sky. Relay what you see to us.”
“I thought we were supposed to pretend to be people,” Jackson said.
“Rules are made to be broken,” Dalton said.
“And where will you be?” Barnes asked.
In reply, Dalton simply pointed down, then he vanished from site as he jumped.
Sailors watched as the Green Berets and SEALs test-fired their weapons off the deck of the Roosevelt , spewing lines of tracers into the ocean. Satisfied their weapons worked, the men began smearing camouflage paint on their faces, loading magazines, and sharpening knives. The air crews walked around their helicopters, making sure they were ready for flight. They all knew the members of ODA 054 who had launched from this very ship, and they had been shown the photograph of Captain Scott’s body. Rescue was the primary mission, but silently accepted among all the men was the desire for revenge.
The coast of Colombia was directly ahead of the bow of the carrier, a hundred miles over the horizon.
Valika had spent the entire flight on her cell phone and laptop, coordinating what she would need. She had operated in the United States many times before for Cesar, so she had had no trouble lining up the men and equipment to do the task-in a capitalistic society, money could indeed buy anything. She had already transferred over sixteen million dollars into various accounts and upon completion of the mission would transfer another fifteen million.
The small Aura projector sat across from her, hooked to the plane’s power. At this low level it generated a large enough field for Raisor to appear, floating across from her, listening in on her conversations. She had not needed his help or contacts. The rest of the passenger compartment of the Lear jet was empty.
“Make sure they have explosives,” Raisor advised her for the third time.
“I’ve already insured we will have adequate means to get inside the complex,” Valika said. “I have a question for you, though.”
“Yes?”
“What if we are confronted with Psychic Warriors? What if not all of them are in Colombia?”
“The most critical time will be when you land,” Raisor said. “You must get inside the complex quickly-it’s the one place where the Psychic Warriors can’t operate, since it’s shielded. It’s the same way Dalton destroyed the Russian facility.”
“ Dalton?”
“One of the army people at Bright Gate,” Raisor said. “He betrayed me also. They all did.”
“You still did not answer me what we should do if we are confronted,” Valika noted.
Raisor smiled and pointed at the two cases that Valika had bought from Kraskov. “I know what you have there.”
“Will they work on Psychic Warriors?”
“I don’t know for certain,” Raisor said, “but I imagine they will have some effect. That’s if you see them first.”
“They can’t stay invisible from you, can they?”
“No.”
“Good. Then you will warn us if you see them on the virtual plane, correct?”
“Correct.”
The rest of the trip was made in silence.
The Lear touched down at a small airfield outside of Granby, in north-central Colorado. It had been chosen because one of her contacts knew that there were four Army National Guard Huey helicopters parked there-exactly what they would need.
The mercenaries she had hired had already taken over the small field, capturing the two full-time employees. As the Lear rolled to a stop, a Ford Explorer came racing out of a hangar and up to the plane. The man who stepped out was short and wiry, wearing khaki with a combat vest strapped on his chest. He carried an MP-5 submachine gun casually in his right hand.
“Good-bye, Mr. Raisor,” Valika said as she crossed the aisle and flipped off the switch for the Aura generator. Raisor’s form popped out of existence. She then unhooked the generator and went to the now open door of the plane. She hopped down the steps and met the man.
“Mr. Gregory,” Valika said, nodding in greeting.
“Ms. Valika. It’s a pleasure to do business once again.” Gregory led her toward the truck. “You do know, of course, that due to the mission to be accomplished, the location here inside my own country, and the amount you are paying, this will be the last time I will be working. My men and I will be retiring to a remote location after this.”
“That would make sense,” Valika agreed.
“I could use some more specifics on what actually we are looking for and what is to be recovered.”
“Get us in first,” Valika said. “Then you’ll be shown what is to be taken.” She paused at the door. “There’s something in the airplane-a computer-that you need to off-load and place inside the helicopter I am to ride in. There are also several cases of high-power lithium batteries. Those are to be placed near the computer.”
She waited while Gregory’s men hauled out the small Aura transmitter and the batteries. Then she got in the truck and they drove to the hangar.
“They’re here,” Jackson ’s voice, modified through Sybyl, sounded inside of Dalton ’s head. Or actually, he realized, his avatar’s head. He still wasn’t comfortable operating on the virtual plane. She relayed what she was seeing, through the computer, to both Barnes and Dalton.
Kirtley’s team appeared, popping into existence, almost simultaneously. Four men on the roof of the main building, one in each cardinal direction. Targets began popping up and the avatars fired, small balls of power exploding the wooden silhouettes.
Dalton moved down the sewer tunnel he was in, forcing himself to not “jump” but move totally in the real plane. He shoved open a manhole cover and fired as he came out, hitting one of the team in the back with a low-power shot. Dr. Hammond froze the avatar.
“You’re dead,” Dalton said as he ducked back down into the tunnel. He raced back toward the building, keeping track of Kirtley’s forces via Jackson. The four men that had appeared on the roof were working their way down through the building, a classic clearing technique. Dalton had expected Kirtley’s men to jump from the roof to the hostage room in one move.
Dalton popped his head up in the hostage room, Barnes’s avatar not even turning. “Hey, Sergeant Major,” Barnes said.
“I’m taking a couple of the hostages,” Dalton said.
Barnes nodded. “They’re too slow.”
Dalton grabbed two of the dummies and ducked back down in the tunnel. He “saw”-via Barnes-the first avatars appear in the basement.
Barnes fired, spinning, hitting the remaining dummies, even as Kirtley’s men shot at him. Barnes hit all of the “hostages” before being shut down by Dr. Hammond. Dalton lost his “eye” in the room.
Dalton made it across the street and up into the next building. Through Jackson he could “see” that Kirtley had called in his other three men from their guard positions. And then all went black.
No form, no input. Nothing. Just self.
Dalton knew immediately that Kirtley had had Hammond shut him down. He felt a moment’s panic, but then used the techniques he had used in the Trojan Warrior program to regain control of his psyche. He was completely isolated on the virtual plane, unable to move, unable to even sense the grayness of the plane itself.
Panic overwhelmed him, his mind screaming without a voice. The memories of the prison cell in Vietnam came rushing back, led by the feeling of helplessness.
“Jimmy.”
He didn’t hear at first, so lost was he in his primal fears.
“Jimmy.”
Like a lifeline in a vast, dark ocean, the voice got through. Dalton seized on it, focusing.
“Jimmy. It’s me” “Marie” “Be careful, Jimmy. There are others here.” “Who?”