He took a deep breath. One more giant segment of his plans had been accomplished. Now he if he could get that little prick Gimbel to get the BlackStar ready to deploy on time, he would be all but finished.
Lynn had waited until the scheduled time for the Su-12 to make its flight. She knew the general would be occupied with the test and it would be her best chance to try to help Raymond. After she had retrieved the note that Angie had given her, it had taken her over an hour before she deciphered it.
*&%((*#. It was a phone number. 875-9984. She spent the next hour figuring out how she was going to give Angie a message in case they were listening in on her phone. She dialed the number and a sleepy voice answered.
“Beck residence.”
“Angie? This is Lynn Yurris.”
“Lynn?” her voice became instantly awake.
“I’m the one with the smashed fingers,” she said.
“Certainly. I remember those poor things. Is there a problem?” Angie asked.
“I am so sorry to bother you at home but my two fingers are killing me. I seem to have zero tolerance for pain. I have been up since 2:35, trying to do something to help ease the pain. I ate the medicine you gave too me but I only have four, no, six more pills left. I was going to try to go back to work at 3 but I will be lucky to make it by 5 now. Can you recommend any thing for the pain?”
“Lynn I’m so sorry. I thought relieving the pressure would take care of that. Take the bandage off, soak them in ice water for as long as you can stand it and then wrap the gauze loosely around them. You can take two more pills, Okay?”
“Yes. I’m sorry to bother you, they are just killing me.”
“I understand. Try that, if it doesn’t help, come see me tomorrow and we will try to relieve the pressure some other way,” Angie told her.
“Thanks Angie. Sorry to have awakened you,” Lynn said.
“Don’t worry about it. I can handle a little sleep loss,” she replied.
Lynn closed her eyes and let her breath out. If they were listening she doubted that they would find anything too suspicious. Now, if Angie can only figure out what she was telling her.
It was obscure, but then so was Angie’s note to her earlier. She went through the motions of following Angie’s instructions just in case they were watching or listening. He didn’t put anything out of the realm of possibility for the general.
After re-wrapping her hand, she pretended to take two more pills and climbed back in bed. She prayed for Raymond and Angie. They were the ones that needed the most help now.
CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE
Dr. Gimbel had just finished a final visual check to make sure all surfaces of the weapon were completely covered with the radar absorbing stealth material. It would make it impossible to track the BlackStar by any station on earth. Only he held the key to controlling the functions of the weapon. He had built the only Gamma Beam Transmitter and Receiver tracking device ever made.
The GBTR was his invention and allowed transmissions to be sent and received on the back of Gamma waves. With this, the BlackStar could be controlled without anyone knowing it was happening. It was his program that made it all possible.
“Dr. Gimbel,” the general said, walking into the lab on Level-10. Our little beauty seems none the worse for wear after the trip down from the Hump.” He was almost cheerful.
“Yes indeed. I just put the finishing touches on it and all that remains to be done is the final programming,” the doctor replied.
“Wonderful. I am delighted at the way this is all coming together. It won’t be long before the world discovers just how monumental your achievement has been. You could well become known as the father of a new era,” the general said.
“Thank you general. That is kind of you to say so. Do we have a time planned for deployment yet?”
“It won’t be long now. They will be going over the Su-12 for the next two days and downloading the flight data to see if any anomalies occurred. I don’t think they will find anything. The flight was by the numbers. Once they finish that, it will be reprogrammed for the next flight and the pilots will have to do some brushing up on the BlackStar deployment. How long will it take to secure it into the cargo bay?”
“No more than a day I should think. The critical element will be making sure that the solar panels clear the bay. It is going to be a tight fit but if we take our time it will be fine. I just don’t want anything to go wrong at this point. As you know, power is the key to the success of the BlackStar. We can’t afford to damage the solar array,” Gimbel replied.
“To be on the safe side, let’s say two days to make sure everything is tethered and secured correctly. So, we are looking at seven to eight days for our next launch window, weather permitting. We had a lot of dust devils today, I hope the wind dies down soon,” the general said.
“You know, they were wrong,” Gimbel said.
“Who? What are you talking about?” the general asked.
He had been caught up in his own thoughts about the launch. Gimbel was always rambling on about nothing important.
“The people at Trinity. Oppenheimer. It wasn’t him that became the destroyer of worlds. It is us. We have become death, the destroyer of worlds. The atomic bomb is nothing in comparison to the BlackStar,” Gimbel said.
“Perhaps you are right. I prefer to think of it as we have become the protector of our world. Screw the rest of those little green bastards. They come poking around here without permission and we will annihilate those pint size piss-ants,” the general declared smashing his fist into his palm.
How typical, thought Gimbel, the man really was a prima donna.
Angie got up and went into the kitchen. She fumbled around in the kitchen drawer and fished out a piece of paper. She started reliving the conversation over in her head. She wrote; two fingers, zero tolerance, two thirty-five, four, no, six pills, back to work at three now five. She stared at the numbers:
202-354-635. Something was not right. A number was missing. ‘Too me?’ Maybe it was supposed to be 202-352-4635. That had to be it. She grabbed the phone book and looked up the area code for 202. Washington D.C. Lynn was telling her the number for someone in Washington D.C. She looked at the kitchen clock. It was 3:18 a.m. It would only be five or six in Washington. Too early to try and call. At least she could find out who it was.
She started to dial then slammed the phone back down. She would have to get dressed and make the call from someplace else. If the general had her line tapped, he would know in an instant what she was up to.
She quickly dressed, started the car while it was still in the garage with the door down. When she was ready, she backed out of the garage and headed to the Walgreen’s Drug Store. When she got there she pulled up next to the pay phone. Using her calling card she dialed 202-345-2635. The phone rang several times before a grumpy man answered.
“Who the hell is this?”
“Uh. I’m not sure I have the right number. Who am I speaking to?”
“Who the hell are you?”
“I’m calling from Nevada. I was given this number. It concerns Raymond Eller.”
“Who? I don’t know any Raymond Eller. You got the wrong number.”
“I’m sorry. I guess I made a mistake,” she said, trying to apologize.
“You sure the hell did,” he said and hung up.
Now what, Angie thought? She closed her eyes and tried to remember exactly what Lynn had said. Each time she kept coming up with the same sequence of numbers. Something was missing, but what? Wait a minute, she suddenly thought.