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Hawkins considered that. "Then the explosion prompted the message."

"Maybe," Levy answered. "Why not do a time line of events, so we can see them more clearly? That's always the first step in trying to understand a problem."

"Sounds good," Hawkins concurred.

"I'm really not sure where my area of expertise enters into all of this," Debra commented. "I think I'll just look through what's accumulated in the computer so far and see if I find anything interesting."

"I have some things I have to check on," Hawkins said as he left the room.

21 DECEMBER 1995, 0930 LOCAL
20 DECEMBER 1995, 2400 ZULU

Lamb sat in the secure communications center and waited impatiently while a technician finished making contact with the appropriate satellite and, through it, Washington.

"You're good to go, sir." The man scuttled out the door and locked the thick hatch behind him. The center was now impervious to external eavesdropping. The microphone was voice activated and the television screen in front of Lamb showed a large desk and chair. He fought the urge to stand as the President entered the field of vision of the camera and sat down at the desk.

The weight of three years in office showed in the lines on the President's face. "What do you have, Steve?"

Lamb looked at the camera looming a few feet in front of him, just above the screen. "The team is working on the data we've accumulated. Nothing very surprising so far. None of them has a clue as to why they were chosen-or let me say that none of them has indicated having any idea. Volkers and Batson have clearances from Hermes, so they should be all right. Levy worries me. We've given her an interim clearance but we know little about her. I've got my people checking on her in the States. The strange thing is that Levy's name was on the roster to be considered for addition to the Hermes Project in a couple of months."

He looked down at his notes. "We're bringing in another person. An expert on meteor craters from Arizona."

The President frowned, as if this detail was bothersome. "Meteor craters?"

"It looks like four of the five reception sites for the message have suspected meteor strike spots in the immediate area. It may be nothing, but it's worth checking out."

The President was reading a note someone had handed him from the side. He returned his attention to the camera, dismissing the meteor issue. "So, nothing on the people so far. What about the Russians?"

Lamb wanted to sigh but held it in. The term Russians now covered a score of various independent republics, all with their own agendas, their own set of severe economic problems, their own nuclear weapons, and worst of all, their own deep sense of historical paranoia. Lamb knew the Russians very well and like any other student of that country, he knew that they were almost impossible to second-guess because their mindset was so different from that of someone from the West. In the years since his release Lamb had tried to subdue his visceral emotions whenever he had to deal with anything about the country he had been a prisoner of-at certain times he did that more successfully than at others.

"They had to have picked up the transmission into Siberia. I'm sure they have a better idea than we do of where it was aimed. I'm checking on that. They definitely know about the explosion under Vredefort Dome-their sensors had to have picked it up just like ours did. I'd say they probably have a good line on Ayers Rock being the source of the transmission, because their space lab was overhead when the transmission occurred. They're going to want to know what's going on. We can't hide the equipment we're putting on top of the Rock. It's totally exposed to satellite imagery.

"The Seventh Fleet has picked up movement from Russian Pacific Fleet elements. They're moving a carrier task force south toward us."

"Are you sure it's connected to the transmission?"

Lamb glanced down at the satellite imagery of the fleet movement he'd been faxed less than an hour ago. "Yes, sir. They've got the research ship Kosmonaut Yury Gagarin as part of the element. That ship is their floating version of this station. It has two large steerable aerial dishes and two smaller ones built on top of the deck. Looks like they want to be in a better position to pick up any more transmissions. They've also got the Krym, one of their Primorye-class intelligence-gathering ships, among the flotilla."

"Christ," the President muttered. "They're going to push this, Steve. I've been on their case concerning the bombs, telling them they need to be more open. Now we're holding something back from them. Do you think they might have something to do with all that's happened?"

"I don't know, sir," Lamb answered honestly. "But it seems to me that they are reacting just as much as we are."

"That could be part of a deception plan," the President noted.

"Yes, sir, it could. Until we find out what's in the Rock, we won't know. We may be holding what we know back from them, but at the present moment I see no reason we should share anything with them," Lamb said. "This doesn't concern them."

"What about the Aussies?"

"They're not happy, sir, but they're going along so far."

"All right. Keep me informed if anything comes up."

The screen went dead. After a short pause Lamb flicked a switch on the console. The door to the shelter opened immediately and Hawkins walked in, a bundle of file folders crammed under one arm.

"What's the latest on South Africa?" Lamb asked.

"This is the most current satellite imagery of the site." The words flowed across the small room and sank into the special acoustic tile that lined the walls and ceiling, as the analyst laid the photos on the desk.

Lamb flicked his gaze from the folder to the speaker. "I don't see anything."

"That's because there's nothing to be seen," Hawkins said. "As far as can be determined, the explosion occurred over two miles underground."

"Any fallout?"

"No. It was all contained."

Lamb swiveled his chair around to face the console. "Well, then, since the damage seems to be minimal, our main concern must be to find out who was behind this and where they got the bomb from. Which is what we've been trying to do now for a week. The question is, how did the bomb get to South Africa?"

Hawkins sat down in a chair on the far side of the desk and rubbed his left temple. "We don't know that. All we know is that the underground yield and signature are similar to the AG35 Russian warhead. Our friends in the SVR are not being very cooperative, but as you know, they did give us enough information two weeks ago to confirm that two of those type warheads are unaccounted for in their arsenal holding area."

"So where's the other one?" Lamb demanded.

"It wasn't in Colombia," Hawkins snapped.

Lamb gazed across the table. "I'm sorry about that. Faulty intelligence."

"There's a little part of my mind," Hawkins said, "that wonders if maybe there wasn't any intelligence at all and you just used it as an excuse to take out that member of the Cartel."

Lamb's eyes didn't waver from Hawkins's. "If I had wanted your team to take that asshole down, I'd have simply ordered you to do it-I wouldn't have had to make up a cover story. I think the intelligence may well have been a setup by the source who fed it to us, but that's in the past and we have a whole big mess right here we have to deal with.

"We've got to get that other bomb tracked down. The President's talked to the Russian President to try and get some support from his people, but he's not having much luck. We were lucky with this one. The next one might end up in a city."

Hawkins tapped the folder. "While you were talking to D.C. I went through the latest analysis on the explosion and found out we weren't lucky on this one."