"The photograph and the writing were on the inside of the case, so the floppy could still rotate. It had been meticulously done. You could see nothing from the outside. In retrospect, the only revealing feature was that the casing on that brand of floppy was only spot welded. After it was glued it appeared to be full-seam welded. Your Patricio Nicanor was a smart man and something of a craftsman."
"What were the names?" said Fitzduane.
"Edgar Rheiman… Edward Mann… George Bull?" said Jaeger. "Probably the first two names don't mean anything to you?"
Fitzduane nodded. "They don't," he said.
"Bu the third name?" said Jaeger.
Fitzduane looked up at the enhanced computer image and then leaned back in his chair. "I thought that was technology that was going nowhere," he said. "Nice idea but outgunned by rockets?"
"That's what most people think," said Jaeger, "insofar as they think at all. The supergun? It's the notion of a madman. Well, I can tell you, most people are absolutely wrong."
"How do you know?" said Fitzduane.
"I've built one at Livermore," said Jaeger over his half-glasses, "and though we make jokes" – he paused for a beat – "we're serious people down there. It works."
He leaned forward to emphasize the point, his face inches from Fitzduane's. "It really works. It's fucking beautiful. And the fuel source is everywhere."
Fitzduane raised an eyebrow.
"Tell me about your fuel," he said dryly.
Jaeger straightened and roared with laughter. "The raw material is everywhere. You drink it. you bathe in it, and for all I know you fuck in it."
"But split out the oxygen?" said Fitzduane.
Jaeger froze in surprise and then beamed approval. "Colonel Fitzduane, for the first time I am beginning to think you may succeed on your mission."
Fitzduane smiled. "If I get into trouble, John, I'll think of you and die laughing."
Grant Lamar leaned across to Cochrane. "Am I missing something here, Lee?" he said quietly.
"Hydrogen," said Cochrane. "One of the main components of water. Split out the oxygen and you've got a gas that goes bang. They've built a supergun that runs on hydrogen, and apparently the fucking thing works."
"How far could such a weapon go?" said Lamar. "From Mexico, that is?"
Jaeger roared with laughter. "You guys don't know the half of it."
"How far?" said Lamar in the loudest and firmest tone of voice that Fitzduane had ever heard him use.
"Washington, D.C.? NO FUCKING PROBLEM!" said Jaeger. He spread his arms wide and looked around the room. "Am I getting through, people?"
"Could be," said Fitzduane.
Apart from the security lights, the camp was dark. It was 2:30 A.M. For once there was no night training, and the team members were making the most of it.
Chifune tried not to notice Fitzduane's window as she jogged past.
Darkness. A feeling of melancholy swept over her. Just once she needed to talk to Hugo alone. She knew what had happened before in Tokyo could not be repeated – and certainly not under these circumstances – but she craved some moments of intimacy with him. Though she yearned for his touch, for the feeling of his naked body under her fingers, a simple conversation would be enough. But they had to be alone. Completely alone.
A small thing to want. To need.
So far there was always someone else present. It was in the nature of the training, she knew, and in some ways the constant presence of others had made their meeting again somewhat easier, but now her heart ached.
Behind her, his heart heavy with concern, Oga looked out through the window of his hut at his charge until she vanished into the woods. Then he lay on his bunk and tried to sleep.
Tanabu- san, so beautiful, so strong, so competent in many ways – and yet so vulnerable. What can I do to protect you? You must rest. Our fate will be decided in fractions of a second, and if you are tired…
Chifune ran to the killing house. The basic scenario was now second nature. This time she focused on what might go wrong.
My weapon might jam.
They could be waiting for us.
My night-vision goggles are damaged or knocked off, and I am in the same darkness that they are.
I am injured.
One of my team is hit.
We break through, but Kathleen is dead!
Hugo is injured!
What do I do?
Again and again, Chifune activated the automatic pop-up targeting mechanism and rehearsed her moves. The silenced Calico hissed death. Spent rounds were ejected downward into the clip-on bag. No empty case tinkling on the ground. No brass to slip on. Details, details, details.
Targets sprang up again, were hit again, and scores automatically logged.
Despite the air-conditioning, the atmosphere in the killing house grew thick with fumes. She activated the extraction system and the massive fans cut in.
Her fatigues drenched in sweat, Chifune finally slumped to the ground panting. She lay there for several minutes and then walked to the showers. She missed her Japanese bath, but in addition to the showers there was a hot tub there, and that was close enough.
The shower block was empty. She had the place to herself. It would be another two hours before the camp awoke.
She stripped off her clothes. She did not switch on the lights. There was just enough illumination from security lights filtering through the roof lights of the shower room, and the combination of streaming water against her body and the near darkness was soothing. She turned off the shower. Toweling her hair while she walked, she made her way to the hot tub and slid in.
Eyes closed, she stretched her legs.
Flesh.
A figure leaped into the air. "JUDAS PRIEST!" yelled a voice, clearly freshly wakened. "Who the hell is that?"
Chifune started to laugh.
"They say it's dangerous to fall asleep in the hot tub, Hugo," she said sweetly. "Didn't your mother ever tell you that?"
The figure slid back into the water. "My mother told me to beware of Japanese women," growled Fitzduane. There was a long pause before he spoke again. "Especially the kind a man has learned to really care about."
"Men forget," said Chifune softly.
"We make choices," said Fitzduane, "and we live with those choices, but we don't forget. We were close and we'll always be close. It doesn't end just because…" He left the last words unspoken.
He leaned across and kissed her on the forehead, and her arms went around him and for a moment they were locked together. Then they separated.
Chifune sat in the darkness and cried. Fitzduane put his arm around her. After a while her tears ceased and she began to talk. Mostly Fitzduane listened.
"I must go, Hugo," she said eventually, "or Oga- san will be out looking." She laughed. She felt a great sense of peace.
She moved toward him and kissed him once on the lips. Our lives are intertwined, she thought. I will be your shadow.
"I'm glad you're here, Chifune," said Fitzduane quietly. "It means more than I can say. When I've doubts I see you and think ‘Yes, we can do it.’ I often have doubts."
"We'll get Kathleen back," said Chifune simply.
In the morning, Oga expected Chifune to look tired and to eat little, as had been her habit recently. Instead she was in sparkling form and ate like a little horse. He felt immensely relieved.
Oshima, he thought, you're going to have problems. Whatever happened last night, Tanabu- san is back on form.
14
It was Rheiman's fourth visit.
He did not seem to mind that she did not reply. He chattered away and she stayed silent and that was accepted as the natural order of things. Nonetheless, despite her inner campaign of silent resistance, Kathleen looked forward to his visits. Rheiman, whatever he had done and whatever he was, was gentle. He was considerate, and above all, he came across as a normal, warm fellow human being.