“ ‘Proper technique’?” Dalton pointed at the isolation tubes where the rest of the team were being removed. “There’s no book on this. There is no proper technique. You have to use the advantages Psychic Warrior gives you to the max. Why clear a building in the normal way, when you’re not normal? I guarantee you that those cartel guards will put a bullet in the hostages’ heads the second they realize something’s wrong.”
“I’ll take your advice under consideration,” Kirtley said. He turned to Hammond. “We’ll be ready to go in three hours.” He left the control room.
Dalton went over to Jackson ’s tube, waiting as she was lifted out and her TACPAD helmet removed.
“Son of a bitch,” she said, then spit some fluid out of her mouth. “That jerk cut us off. Goddamn,” she cursed once more as Dalton draped a thick towel over her shoulders.
“I’ve already talked to him, for whatever good it did,” Dalton said.
Jackson shivered. “Geez-if that’s what those people in the other room are experiencing since they were cut off-” She shook her head. “That was bad, real bad.”
“We’ve got to do all we can to help them,” Dalton said.
“Before Kirtley turns off their iso-tubes.” Jackson nodded. “Hell, yeah. Sign me up.” “I’ve got a call to make,” Dalton said. “Get Barnes when he comes out and meet me in our bunkroom.”
“Do you have contact with the satellite?” Cesar asked.
Souris ’s eyes were closed, the leads from Aura covering her head. “Yes.”
“Is it working?”
“I wouldn’t have contact with it if it wasn’t,” Souris said. “Everything is developing exactly according to plan. Exactly.”
“The coordinates are programmed?”
“Yes.”
Cesar nodded. He didn’t like waiting. He left the operations center and went upstairs to the atrium, his favorite place. All the other Ring members except Naldo had gone back to Colombia, satisfied that their money was being well spent and that their future in Cesar’s hands looked bright. Or to plot to overthrow him, perhaps, but Cesar thought that unlikely given the display he had presented and Alarico’s fate.
Naldo was seated in a chair by the pool, a tall glass by his side.
“Old friend,” Cesar said as he sat next to him, a bodyguard quickly bringing his own drink.
Naldo laughed. “Old enemy is more like it. We were at each other’s throats many more years than we have spent sitting by the side of a pool drinking together.”
Cesar raised his glass in toast. “To old enemies then.”
Naldo acknowledged the toast. “Things are different now. It’s a new world. I miss the old days, though, when things were simpler.”
“They were never simple,” Cesar said. “Just different. The deals and double-deals and triple-deals you and my father used to do to each other-there was nothing simple about those.”
“True. But it was between us. Two men. This-” Naldo fell silent.
“Go ahead.”
“This doesn’t feel right, Cesar. Even you, you’re different. Why do we need to fight the Americans?”
“Because we finally can,” Cesar said. “Don’t tell me you are not angry that the Americans tried to kidnap, or even kill, your son.”
“Angry? Yes. Stupid? No.”
A vein popped up on Cesar’s forehead, blood throbbing. “You saw what we can do with Aura. And we will be more powerful after tonight.”
Naldo leaned forward so that listening ears beyond the immediate vicinity could not hear. “I have to admit, yes, I was very impressed with the demonstrations of this Aura. But I have had time to think about it since. And I have to tell you that I do not understand what you are doing. You act as if this Aura is the final answer. The Americans have other weapons. They have not hesitated to even invade a country when it was in their interests. Noriega learned that and now he rots in an American prison.”
Naldo could see the stiffness in the younger man. “I know you are angry that I speak these words, but I feel as if ever since you moved from Colombia, you’ve been different. The others asked me to talk to you; that is why I stayed behind. They think this Aura thing is fine-as a device to spy on people. But your plan to take over the American satellites, that makes them fearful. They see it as inviting unnecessary trouble.”
“Yes, you are right,” Cesar said. “They are fearful. They are whipped curs who want to keep their few bones and hide. Why should we hide? Why should we bow down to some group just because it has a flag?” Cesar’s arm swept out, flinging the glass across the tiles, where it shattered. He stood. “You have said what you needed to. I have work to do.”
Naldo watched Cesar walk away into a dark doorway. Slowly he shook his head. He got up. It was time to leave this place and go back to Colombia.
Valika opened the case holding the Barrett.50 caliber sniper rifle. She lifted it out and checked the bolt. Across from her, Gregory whistled. “Big gun.”
Valika checked her watch. “Are your men ready?”
Gregory nodded. “We’re ready. I would assume that since this base is so isolated, it’s a military facility?”
“It’s affiliated with the military,” she acknowledged.
“Many guards?”
“Actually, none, as far as we know. Not, at least, in the way you envision guards.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’ll tell you on the way.” She rested the barrel over her shoulder and headed for the hangar doors. “Let’s go.”
Blades began turning on the two MH-60K Blackhawk helicopters parked on the runway at Fort Carson Army Airfield. Crammed in the cargo bay was red webbing that they used for sling loads.
“Wheels up,” Chief Warrant Office Roby ordered.
Both choppers lifted off the tarmac and headed into the night sky, noses pointed northwest.
Boreas stared at the computer screen. He was seeing what Hammond had on her control console two thousand miles away at Bright Gate. Kirtley’s team was beginning to go into their isolation tubes.
He picked up a headset and put it on. Then he typed in commands, covertly accessing Sybyl. He spoke into the boom mike. “Kirtley.” The voice that came back was muffled. “Yes?” “This is our private link through Sybyl. Neither Hammond nor your teammates can access it. You know your job, right? The real objective of this mission?” There was a long pause. “Yes.”
“Good.” Boreas keyed off the connection. He spun about in his chair and looked out at the mountains. Even at night the white peaks were clearly visible. Soon he and his people would have nothing to fear from the high country.
On board the Roosevelt, blades also began turning on both Blackhawks and Apache gunships. Rangers, Green Berets, and Navy SEALs piled into the transport choppers while the gunships took off to lead the way.
Low over the ocean, the air flotilla headed for the shoreline of Colombia.
Linda McFairn stared out her office window, but she wasn’t really seeing the Maryland countryside. Her mind was on events happening far to the south. The photo of the executed Special Forces captain was the only item on her desk. She knew the Colombians had done that to spur action, and she’d told Boreas that, warned him that she saw an ambush coming, but he had not seemed concerned.
Whenever she was faced with a problem, she tried to see it as Sun Tzu would have. She had no doubt that the Ring was preparing a trap for the rescue mission. On the other hand, her forces held the advantage of surprise with the Psychic Warriors leading the assault.
Things were accelerating, something she had experienced before during times of national crisis, yet no one in the government other than her knew there was a crisis. She had read the report on Mrs. Callahan’s death. She had known the National Security Adviser and her husband reasonably well, and she had no doubt they would never have committed suicide, but the FBI had labeled it that.