Harold’s lips compressed. He concentrated on the alley, and waited until he performed the turn before responding. “I can’t believe you’re a KGB agent.”
“I’m not.”
“You never know. The bastards are everywhere,” Harold stated.
“I get that impression.”
“You don’t look like a run-of-the-mill criminal,” Harold mentioned.
“I’m not.”
“Who are you? Where are you from?”
“I’m from outside the Soviet territory.”
“Outside!” Harold exclaimed, flabbergasted. In his excitement he inadvertently caused the cab to swerve to the left, almost colliding with the rear wall of a brick building.
“How long have you been driving?” Blade quipped, hoping the conversation might help the man to relax. His goal would be achieved much sooner if he could persuade Harold to assist him, wittingly or not.
“Are you really from the Outlands?”
“I never said the Outlands. I’m from outside the Soviet-controlled territory. That’s all I can tell you.”
“I’ll be damned,” Harold said. He braked as they came to the end of the alley and stared at the intersecting street. “I’ve never met anyone from the outside. All I’ve heard are stories.” A break in the traffic flow permitted him to pull out, and he took a sharp right, nervously scanning the street for police cars. “What’s it like out there?”
“I’ll ask the questions.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“First things first. Do you know where Gorbachev Air Force Base is located?”
“The old Hanscom Air Force Base? Sure. It’s about fifteen, maybe twenty miles from here.”
“Take me there,” Blade directed.
“Okay.”
Blade reached out and tapped the microphone. “What do you use this for?”
“To keep in touch with the dispatcher. If somebody needs a cab, they’ll phone the company and the dispatcher will tell me where to pick up the fare,” Harold explained, and chuckled. “Haven’t you ever ridden in a cab before?” he asked in jest.
“No.”
Harold did a double take. “You’re putting me on.”
“Can your dispatcher monitor the cab in any way?”
“How do you mean?”
“Does the dispatcher know where you are at any given moment?”
“No, man. It’s just a two-way radio, is all. Like a CB. You’ve used a CB before, haven’t you?”
“No.”
Harold looked at the giant. “Where are you from? The moon?”
Blade smiled. He twisted and gazed out the rear window, checking for pursuit. “Life outside the Soviet zone is much different. Except for a few organized factions, the standard of living is about the same as it was during the Middle Ages. Functional cars and trucks are rare. Indoor plumbing is a luxury. The people are lucky if they eat one square meal a day.” He paused. “Ironically, the standard of living in the Soviet territory is more like the life-style in the prewar United States than that in almost every other area, despite the Communist system the Russians have tried to impose.”
“I get the impression you know a lot about the Soviets.”
“I’ve dealt with them before.”
A voice suddenly squawked from a small speaker. “Fifty-four. Pick up a woman wearing a green dress at the corner of Harvard Street and Walk Hill.”
“That’s me,” Harold said.
“Ignore it.”
The speaker crackled again. “Fifty-four. Are you alive? Did you copy?”
“Boy, will he be ticked off,” Harold remarked, and twisted a dial to kill the speaker.
“How much trouble will you get into for driving me to the base?” Blade inquired.
“Not much. I saw what you did at the hospital, and I was about to let the dispatcher know I was stuck there when you commandeered my cab.
The police will believe me when I tell them I didn’t have a choice. I don’t think they’ll punish me,” Harold said.
“Good.”
Harold looked at the giant. “Say, do you mind if I ask you a question?”
“Not at all.”
“Why, exactly, do you want to go to Gorbachev Air Force Base? You’re on the run, aren’t you? The authorities are after you. Going there doesn’t make sense. There are military types all over the place.”
“I know.”
“Then why go there?” Harold queried, and the giant’s reply almost prompted him to tramp on the brake.
“I plan to attack it.”
Chapter Eighteen
Major General Ligachev wheeled and took a step.
“Now don’t go off in a huff,” Hickok said. “We need to shoot the breeze a bit.”
The officer turned, the set of his features revealing his anger. “I have nothing left to say to you. Surrender, or else.”
The Warrior gazed at the helicopter at rest to the west. The troopers inside were still seated, their AK-47’s in their laps or held in their hands.
None of them were aiming a weapon at him. “Maybe I was a mite hasty.”
“What?”
“I reckon a surrender is in order.”
Ligachev nodded and smirked. “You finally see the light. There is no way you can escape us. Resistance would be futile.”
Hickok hooked his thumbs in his gunbelt. “Yep, you coyotes sure have this all thought out. But there’s a few things I don’t understand.”
“Such as?”
“Why didn’t you guys track the SEAL from the Home? It would have been a lot simpler.”
“True,” the officer acknowledged, “But had we attempted to shadow your vehicle all the way from the Home, we increased the likelihood of being detected.”
“Why’d you spring your trap now? Why not earlier? Or why not later?”
“Our fuel consumption was a major factor in our decision. Any earlier and we would have been too far from our lines to be able to engage you, if you refused to give in, and still have enough fuel left to return to our refueling site. Our helicopters haven’t been modified to fly extended distances, like the one the HGP Unit used to fly to the Home. Such modifications are expensive, and only a few such craft have been converted,” Ligachev said. “We could have waited until later, but we ran the risk of not being able to find the SEAL. There are few secondary roads in this section of Iowa, making the area ideal. And as General Malenkov said, the sooner the better.”
“How is old cow face?”
“Eager to see you,” Ligachev responded, and grinned wickedly.
“I’ll bet,” Hickok stated. He allowed his hands to slowly drop to his sides. “I’ve got one last point that’s puzzlin’ me. Malenkov wants the Home destroyed. He hates our guts. So why’d he send in the commandos just to snatch Blade? Why not send them in to blow up the Home?”
“That’s been tried before without success. Your compound even withstood a direct assault by a vastly superior force during your war with the Docktor. Before the general sends his elite unit against the Home, he wants to learn all about your defenses. He wants to know everything there is to know about your compound. That’s one of the reasons Blade was taken,” Major General Ligachev detailed. “You are right about the general hating your Family. After he is done, your compound will be reduced to rubble and your Family will be dead or in prison. The general rates the destruction of the Home as his paramount priority, and he is giving the matter his personal touch.”
Hickok nodded. “I guess that’s all I need to know. It’s time to surrender.”
Ligachev extended his hands. “I’ll take your weapons now.”
“You’ve got it backwards, turkey.”
“What?”
“I’m givin’ you a chance to surrender.”
“You’re giving us—!” the officer exclaimed incredulously.