On his computer screen the silhouette of the South American continent appeared, then grew larger, the edges disappearing, the computer focusing in on the west-central part. It narrowed down to a spot just over the border from Bolivia in Brazil, a hundred kilometers west of the town of Vilhena.
Waker quickly summarized the information and sent out a priority intelligence report to Duncan via secure Interlink.
“T-minus three hours. The count has resumed. Perform T-3 hours snapshot on flight critical and payload items.”
The same voice carried over the launch pads on either end of the United States. Lisa Duncan heard them as she peered once more over the papers that had been faxed to her by Major Quinn.
The partial history of The Mission was interesting, but what she really needed was a location and he had not yet uncovered that. She thumbed quickly through all the information that had been forwarded. She paused as she saw the e-mail from the NSA.
She frowned. Someone had piggybacked a GPS — ground positioning satellite — signal in the area near the border between Bolivia and Brazil. Even as she was looking at it, the printer attached to her computer chimed and another sheet slowly came out.
Same thing. Slightly different location. This one pinpointed a spot. It was in the very west of Brazil. Duncan took a pencil and slowly wrote on a pad of paper:
Tiahuanaco.
The Mission.
Coming from Spain in the fifteenth century.
The Airlia.
STAAR.
Guides.
Yakov and Section IV being destroyed.
Guardian.
Dulce.
Easter Island.
Che Lu and Qian-Ling and a second ruby sphere.
Duncan paused. If there was a second ruby sphere then—
“The next planned hold is at T-minus two hours. Go for flight crew final prep and briefing.”
Duncan’s eyes flashed toward the window. The space shuttle was ready. If there was another ruby sphere, then the mothership could still be used for interstellar flight. If it could be repaired — but hadn’t Kopina said they were going up to get a breathable atmosphere inside?
Duncan picked up her SATPhone and dialed the number for Turcotte in South America.
The mechrobots continued to do the guardian’s bidding. The hole in the floor of the chamber had reached the thermal vent. A power system to tap that was being built two miles down.
Under the black shield guarding Easter island, all was progressing quite well.
Elek stepped away from the guardian. His dark sunglasses turned in the direction of Che Lu and Lo Fa, but before he could say anything, the tough-looking mercenary leader spoke.
“We got trouble,” Croteau said. “My man in the top says he can hear tanks and other heavy equipment. The Chinese army is back, and they’re pissed seeing all their buddies dead.”
“Your men have mined the entrance?” Elek asked.
“Yes, but that doesn’t stop them from dropping satchel charges in here or even gassing us like you did them.”
Elek walked past Croteau to stand in front of Che Lu.
“Where is it?”
Che Lu stepped back, feeling the malevolence coming off of him. “Where is what?”
“The key.”
“I do not have a key.”
“Search them,” Elek ordered Croteau.
Croteau did the job quickly.
“They don’t have any key,” Croteau said. “We’re wasting time here. We need to get out, if we still can.”
Elek shook his head. “No, we will make the time we need.” He headed back into the control room. As they entered, an explosion rumbled through the cavern.
Croteau was listening to the small FM radio on his combat vest. “The PLA is attacking!”
Another explosion came amid the sound of automatic weapons firing. Elek stood at the main control panel. He ran his hands over the hexagons. A loud rumbling noise overrode the sounds of battle. Croteau dashed to the door and looked into the cavern.
“You’re shutting the inner door!” he exclaimed.
“We need time,” Elek said.
“But I left ten men up there!” Croteau’s right hand came up, the submachine gun pointing at Elek.
“I am the only way you will get out of here alive,” Elek said. “And sealing the tunnel was the only way we are going to stay in here alive. There were no other options.”
“Goddammit!” Croteau exploded. “You don’t just leave men to die like that.”
“You do it all the time,” Elek said. “It’s called war.”
Turcotte ripped off the suit, passing directly into the isolation lock, then into the habitat. Yakov had imagery and intelligence printouts spread out on the floor in front of him. Kenyon was looking through his microscope.
“Where’s Norward?” Kenyon asked.
“At the hospital in town.” Turcotte told them of the tear in the suit. The USAMRIID man did not seem surprised or particularly upset. Of course, Turcotte knew both Kenyon and Norward had had more time to think about such a fate, just as a soldier was more prepared to go into battle. “We’re all going to get this thing if we can’t figure out its vector and come up with an antidote or vaccine,” Kenyon said.
“Anything from your headquarters?” Turcotte asked.
“I can’t get through to Fort Detrick,” Kenyon said. “It will take time for the vector experiments to work.”
“We don’t have time,” Turcotte said. He looked at Yakov. “What do you have?” Yakov drew a circle. “The satellite came down somewhere to the west of here. I think—” He paused as the SATPhone rang.
Turcotte picked it up. “Turcotte.”
“Mike, it’s Lisa. We’ve got something.”
Turcotte listened as she told him about the strange transmission picked up to their west. He got the grid location from her.
“There’s something else,” Duncan said.
“What’s that?”
“Colonel Carmen, my friend who authorized the USAMRIID mission, is dead.” Duncan went on to tell Turcotte of the phone conversation.
“So someone’s covering up on the Stateside end” was Turcotte’s summation of that information.
“Looks like.”
“Can you get me any help?”
“I can try,” Duncan said. “What do you need?”
Turcotte rattled off a quick list of support.
“I’ve already got some of that moving. I talked to Colonel Mickell at Bragg already.”
“Good. What about the shuttles?” he asked her. “Have you figured out what is going on?”
“I think someone wants to get the mothership, because there’s a second ruby sphere hidden somewhere, maybe in the lowest level of Qian-Ling.”
Turcotte considered the situation. “That’s putting the cart before the horse,” he said. “Whoever wants the mothership has to survive the Black Death first.”
“The Airlia on Mars don’t have to worry about that,” Duncan said.
“True,” Turcotte acknowledged. “But what about whoever is helping them? These Guides?”
“The guardian didn’t care much about the people it used on Majestic-12. Humans are just tools for it.”
Turcotte thought about that. “Yeah, but if the second ruby sphere hasn’t been found yet, the guardian still needs those tools. Maybe they’re securing the mothership for a different reason.”
“I don’t…” There was a pause from Duncan’s end. “Oh my God. Major Quinn told me something and I didn’t think it was important, but maybe that’s why there’s a rush to get to the mothership.”