“Maybe they’re scared and have backed off,” the other merk suggested.
“Yeah, and the Legion loved me,” Croteau said. He rose and signaled for the patrol to continue.
Inside of Endeavor’s cargo bay, Lieutenant Osebold had his TASC-suit on. Inside of his helmet, the left side of his face was twitching. He could feel a tear slide down his left cheek — at least he thought it was a tear. In reality it was a drop of blood.
The massive bulk of the mothership filled the space above their heads. The shuttle was less than twenty feet away, held in place by the remote arm. “We go as planned,” he announced in the radio.
The first pair of SEALs — Ericson and Terrel — jetted out of the cargo bay, heading toward the open gash on the side of the mothership. Right behind them went the second pair — Lopez and Conover.
Osebold still waited, inside the cargo bay. He could see the other members of his team, dark black silhouettes, against the blackness of the mothership.
His head was pounding, spikes of pain lancing across his brain. More tears of blood were flowing now, out of both eyes. He raised his MK-98 and fired.
The six-inch steel darts ripped through his team, tearing through the exoskeleton. The screams echoed inside of Osebold’s helmet.
“What’s going on?” Duncan yelled.
“A Guide,” Kopina hissed. She pulled a small device out of her pocket. “What are you doing?” Duncan demanded.
Kopina flipped open the lid of the device. She pressed down on a large red button.
The small charge was right against the shuttle’s fuel tank. There wasn’t much fuel left in it, but more than enough to multiply the initiating explosion.
Inside the cargo bay, Osebold was consumed by the momentary fireball, along with the entire shuttle. His last thought, fleeting and free, was of gratitude that death had found him.
“Who are you?” Duncan demanded.
Kopina closed the cover on the device. The screen that had showed the feed from Endeavor was now blank.
“They wanted the mothership,” Kopina said.
“Who?”
“The Guides. They were going to bring it back to Earth, load their chosen people on board, and go back up to space while the Black Death took care of the free people of Earth.”
“If you knew that, why did you let the shuttle launch?” Duncan asked.
“We only suspected,” Kopina said. “There is no way to tell if someone is a Guide until they act.”
“I ask you again,” Duncan repeated. “Who are you?”
Kopina raised her left hand. A large silver ring was on her ring finger. “I am a Watcher.”
“And what is that?”
“As long as the Airlia have been here, there have been Watchers,” Kopina said. She was backing up, moving toward the door.
“Stop!” Duncan yelled.
“I have lo go.”
“The Mission! Where is it?”
Kopina shook her head. “We don’t know. We sent one of our people to look for it. You know him as Harrison. He failed.”
With that the other woman dashed out the door. Duncan ran after her, but she was gone.
CHAPTER 22
Inside Qian-Ling. Che Lu and Lo Fa watched as Elek was one with the guardian, surrounded by the golden glow.
“I do not like this,” Lo Fa said. He spit. “Talking with that thing like that—“
The golden field snapped off and Elek stepped back. He walked past the two Chinese without a glance, into the main control room, and up to the console. “What have you learned?” Che Lu asked as she followed.
“I have no time for you,” Elek snapped. His hands moved over the panel.
A loud rumbling noise came through the door leading to the storage cavern. Che Lu and Lo Fa went into the large room. In the center of the floor, the black metal covering was sliding back on one of the largest of the containers. Inside was a drum, about fifty meters long, by ten in diameter. It was mounted on both ends by a cradle of black metal that attached at the center of each end. The drum itself was a dull gray.
As they watched, the drum began to rotate, faster and faster. Streaks of color — red, orange, violet, purple — began shooting through the gray.
“What is that?” Lo Fa asked.
“I have no idea.”
“It is of the devil,” Lo Fa said, and he spit in that direction.
“Hear that?” Croteau held up his fist, halting the patrol once more. The faint light of dawn was touching the eastern sky, and the men were nervous.
Another mercenary cocked his head. “Yah.”
They both turned and looked back the way they had come. Qian-Ling was highlighted in the flush of the first rays of the sun.
“What’s that?” the mercenary whispered.
The air around Qian-Ling was shimmering.
“I don’t—” Croteau paused as he heard another noise. The roar of a jet engine. He barely had time to look up as a CSS-5 cruise missile flashed by overhead at a height of less than forty feet. The contrail of the missile headed straight for Qian-Ling.
“Oh, God,” Croteau whispered.
The missile hit the shimmering wall and detonated.
Croteau saw the flash, which instantly destroyed his retinas, a millisecond before the blast wave incinerated him and everything within ten kilometers.
“China just nuked Qian-Ling.” Duncan was holding up several satellite photos. Turcotte was seated cross-legged on the floor of the bouncer, the laptop hooked to the SATPhone on his lap. He could see her and the photos on the twelve-inch screen.
As Turcotte looked at the photos in the computer screen, she kept speaking. “From following the time sequence, it appears that a shield was activated just prior to the detonation.” She reached and pulled one of the photos out and put it on top. “See this wavy effect? That’s what the Easter Island shield looked like before it went opaque.”
Turcotte checked the next couple of shots. “It apparently doesn’t completely stop a nuclear blast.”
In the imagery, Qian-Ling had been stripped bare of vegetation, trees blown away, the ground scorched.
“It didn’t completely stop this blast,” Duncan agreed, “but it did seem to stop the missile.” She used the tip of her pencil to show a point to the west of the mountain tomb. “Point of detonation was right here, about a kilometer and a half from the tomb. Right where the shield wall is. I think it was targeted for the tomb itself.”
“The Chinese probably used a cruise missile.” Turcotte said. “The shield wall detonated it when the missile touched the shield because the wall picked up the EM emissions.”
Duncan nodded. “Yes, but I think the wall still dissipated the blast somewhat. The experts are going over the information, but initial impressions are that damage was not as extensive as the Chinese would have liked. The tomb appears intact.”
“And sealed off now like Easter Island,” Turcotte noted. “What about Che Lu? Was she inside?”
“We don’t know. Imagery caught several groups of people outside the tomb just prior to the blast.”
“If they were outside, they’re dead,” Turcotte said.
“Radius of blast is ten kilometers. I’m hoping Che Lu stayed inside.” “But if she’s not in the tomb activating the shield,” Turcotte wondered, “then who is?”
“STAAR.”
Turcotte slumped down in a chair. “I’ve been thinking. STAAR knew there were Airlia still alive on the talon or that it was being remote-controlled — whichever — that’s the card Lexina was holding.”
“Most likely.”