"Tuskin knows who the Russian general was who sold the bombs. And he knows where he's being held. That's something we didn't have before. He says the Russian authorities are keeping it quiet because it's a great embarrassment and would only add to their poor public image."
"How are you going to get to the general?"
Hawkins shrugged. "We didn't have enough time to figure that one out. It isn't the greatest plan, but it's a start. It beats sitting around here waiting for everything to close up."
"I don't understand you," Fran said.
Hawkins glanced at her in the dark. "What's not to understand?"
"How you can have done what you've done for the past several years, yet still seem to care so much about people and the world. How you can react so strongly about your wife, yet be capable of killing without a second thought."
"It's my job," Hawkins replied.
"Bullshit," Fran said without raising her voice. "I don't buy that."
Hawkins twisted on his knee and faced her. "All right. You want to know what makes me tick? I'll tell you the truth-I don't know. At first I did what I do because I thought I was one of those people that had their finger in the dike and kept it from breaking. But then I started realizing that maybe my side of the dike was just as screwy and fucked up as the other side. And that maybe there was some guy on the other side with his finger in the same hole I had mine in.
"But what was I supposed to do? It's all well and good to intellectualize it, but when you're waist deep in the swamp fighting the alligators, that isn't the time to be worried about draining the swamp."
"Maybe that's the best time to think about draining it," Fran replied. "Then you wouldn't have to be battling them."
"Fine," Hawkins snapped. "I'll go out and change the whole world by myself." His eyes glinted, the glow of the perimeter lights reflecting off them. "You want to know something?" He didn't wait for an answer. "On my last mission before coming here I killed a woman. Just put a round right between her eyes and walked away. Because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong person. That's the way it goes. That's the world. I didn't make the rules. I just play by them as best I can."
"Is that what you feel about the accident with your wife? Wrong place, wrong time, and wrong person?" Fran quietly asked.
Hawkins went tense and was silent for a long time. Finally he spoke, his voice so low, Fran barely caught it. "No. That's not what I think."
"Then don't apply it to the rest of the world. You can make a difference. You have a good plan with Tuskin. Believe in it and do all you can."
“I was going to do it anyway," Hawkins said.
Fran reached out and touched his shoulder. “But you'll do it better if you believe."
Hawkins suddenly stood. "There's some information I need to find out. Then I'm going to get some sleep." He glanced at his watch again. "It's Lamb's show for the next seven hours and twenty-five minutes. I suggest you get some sleep too." He strode off into the darkness, heading for the operations tent, leaving Fran alone in the dark. She looked up at the stars one more time, then went off to find Don and see how he was doing.
PROBING
Fran returned to the mine shaft and descended the wire bucket for the second time, arriving in the chamber just as Tomkins was about to send through the remote camera. Pencak, Levy, and Batson were gathered there also, next to Lamb in front of the TV screen. A squad of marines in full battle gear stood fidgeting off to the side, weapons held in nervous hands.
The remote consisted of a video camera mounted on a small, tracked cart. A powerful built-in transmitter would beam back into space the images the camera picked up on a broad band that itself was capable of being picked up by one of the Keyhole satellites blanketing the Earth, thus averting what had happened to the camera linked by the fiber-optic cable.
"Ready to go, sir." Tomkins held the remote control in his hand.
"Go ahead."
Tomkins flicked a switch and pushed slightly forward on the toggle in the center of the remote control. The cart hummed and then slowly rolled toward the Wall. On the TV screen the Wall grew closer and closer. The cart touched the Wall and there was the flash of light and the cart was gone. The TV screen had gone totally white as the same time as the Wall and now showed solid black.
"What's happening?" Lamb asked. "I've got it stopped," Tomkins said. "That's if I’ve still got contact with it," he added after a brief pause. "How come we're getting nothing on the screen?" Lamb demanded.
"You're not going to get anything," Levy spoke quietly. "It's gone farther than any radio link man has devised can reach."
"Reverse it. Bring it back," Lamb ordered.
Tomkins played with the remote for a long minute. Finally he stopped and simply looked at Lamb. "I'm getting nothing on the satellite link. Zero telemetry."
Lamb turned to the man in charge of the marine squad. "Are you ready, Lieutenant King?"
The young officer's face was bathed in sweat despite the coolness of the chamber, but his eyes glittered with the blind obedience that had allowed marines to charge across open beaches under fire for generations. He stepped up to the group. "Yes, sir."
"You're not going to send them through, are you?" Fran protested as she realized what was happening, placing herself between him and Lamb. "For what reason?"
"To verify Hawkins's story."
"But the Coalition might take that as an aggressive act!" Fran argued.
"The Russians sent through armed men," Lamb responded.
"They might not go where Hawkins and I went," Levy said. "Remember that Richman went in at Tunguska and came out here. What happens if these men come out at Tunguska?"
Lieutenant King fingered his M-16. "Then it's rock and roll time."
"What if they step out somewhere new?" Levy asked. "What if it's someplace where humans aren't able to survive?"
A couple of the lower-ranking marines exchanged worried glances.
"I'm in charge here," Lamb said. "I take responsibility."
"Your taking responsibility is great," Fran said bitterly. "It will certainly help the families of these young men feel better when they don't come back to know that you took responsibility."
The lieutenant's eyes had not lost any of their earlier intensity. "I go where I'm ordered, ma'am."
"Hey, LT." A large black sergeant, his crew-cut hair gray with twenty-three years of experience in the Corps, stepped forward. "Maybe we ought to talk to Colonel Tolliver first?" He shot a look over his shoulder at the Wall. "I think we're out of our league here."
Lieutenant King shook his head. "No, Sergeant Johnson. The colonel specifically said we were under the command of Mr. Lamb." The NCO reluctantly stepped back into ranks.
"When you cross, send one man back immediately so we know you're all right, and to tell us where you're at," Lamb said.
"Aye, aye, sir."
Fran slowly moved out of the way and the marines formed a wedge, point facing the portal. King was in the lead, less than a foot from the Wall. He glanced over his shoulder and looked at Lamb expectantly.
"Go," Lamb ordered.
Lieutenant King stepped forward and the Wall went white. As each man hit, there was the same brief flash and then they were gone, one after another in the intrepid spirit that had taken Mount Surabachi. It took less than five seconds for all ten men to disappear.
Those left behind watched the Wall, waiting for the promised report to come back. As the seconds ticked away, the mood shifted from one of expectation to one of uncertain dread.
King was momentarily disoriented and then quickly gained his bearing, only to be further confused when he saw his surroundings. He was bumped forward as the next man came through and the procession continued until all ten men were milling in a large room. The far wall was about thirty feet away and the side walls were twenty feet apart. The walls were pure white and appeared to be made of some metal alloy. The ceiling was twelve feet above the floor and both were made of the same material. Behind them was the black Wall. There were no windows-only what appeared to be a door with no handle. The light came out of thin strips of glowing material in the center of the ceiling.