“Shit,” said Hoy. “What do you think, I’m an idiot? I know all that. I mean, what’s the point? Do you really think we’re going to locate that sonofabitch Suarez by flying around at night?”
“That’s not our job,” said Jabiel. “At least, not right now. When I was in the Israeli corps we did this shit all the time. One intelligence mission after another.”
“Yeah,” said Hoy. “I know that. But I’ll tell you this. I don’t think any of this will help when it comes to dealing with the terrorists. Suarez, whoever — they’ve been on top of it from the get-go.”
“I don’t get you,” said Jabiel.
“Well, look at it. Look at what they did.” Hoy’s voice resonated inside his closed helmet. “They sneaked in and planted nukes in the ice without detection. Then they found a way to get out without anyone having a clue.”
“What’s your point?”
“They’ve planned this well. Too well. They’re fucking smart, and I don’t think they’ll get caught. Not by us — not by anyone.”
“Maybe,” said Jabiel after a pause to bank the chopper to the right, following the lead helicopter’s movements. “But we gotta try. Besides, what do we care anyway? It’s work.”
In the distance the lights of Santiago cast a glow into the night. The two helicopters manoeuvred to avoid a large commercial jet on a landing approach.
Hoy fixed his ordnance systems on the jet and feigned firing a Hel fire missile at the airplane. “Bang!
You’re toast.”
A computer tracked the simulated missile to its target and displayed a yellow flash on the screen.
Jabiel looked at it and laughed. “Feel better now?”
“A bit,” said Hoy.
Gadfly 1, with Gadfly 2 behind, flew north of the city. Below them there was noticeably less traffic than had been moving along the highways of Valparaiso. Grimes leaned to the side and watched the city pass below him.
“Want a better look?” asked Rob Walters. “I can tip a little to the side if you want. Hel, I can fly this mother upside-down. Just say the word.”
“That won’t be necessary, Rob. Steady as she goes. I don’t want to waste any fuel.” Grimes flipped up his helmet and looked all around, watching the city. “It’s like I thought.”
“What’s that, Kai?” asked Walters.
“People are abandoning the coastlines. Did you see all the traffic moving along the highway?”
The pilot shook his head. “I hadn’t noticed, to be honest.”
“More now than a few days ago,” said Grimes. “A shitload more.”
The lights below them grew sparser as the two helicopters moved into the foothills of the Andes. Eventually there were only a few pinpoint gleams beneath to indicate the chopper’s altitude.
“Switch on the IR lights,” ordered Grimes, “and send a ELF call to G-2. Are they still with us?”
“That’s a roger, sir,” said Walters. “We’ve been shot down about five times, according to my sensors.”
Grimes laughed. “Isn’t that nice?”
“Oh yeah. I feel fuckin’ warm all over, sir.”
Grimes pushed a button on the dash. “You can stop killing us now, fellas.”
“Party pooper!” said Hoy from G-2.
Soon the choppers were beginning their climb up the Andean range. They deployed the propellers’ vane extensions for additional lift, and brought both craft into a tighter formation so they could keep an eye on each other. The SEALs shifted to breathing oxygen. After another twenty minutes Grimes was satisfied the improvements they’d made in the choppers’ abilities to handle the mountain range were effective. He ordered the pilots to cut off the climb at 22,000 feet. This time, rather than turn back directly to the Enterprise, they were to land at a secret base set up in the Andean foothills, near a railroad pass. There they’d refuel and give the mountain another try before a second refuelling and, final y, the return to the carrier.
G-1 was the first to land on the artificial gridwork laid out to form a landing strip. Grimes flipped the toggle that sealed the canopy, and the cockpit opened with a slight hiss. He stepped out, removed his helmet and looked around. Two men were trotting towards the chopper. He recognized one of them as Captain Halsey, from the Big E. The other, a stranger, was wearing a dark flight suit and carrying a helmet like the one Grimes had just removed.
Behind him, Gadfly 2 settled to ground, shutting down its humming engine almost immediately. Halsey and the stranger paused a moment to watch the second chopper land, then continued towards Grimes.
Grimes came to attention and saluted Halsey.
“Commander Grimes, I want to introduce you to President Frei of Chile.”
Grimes was dumbfounded. The last person he’d have expected to find at this base was a foreign national. But, as his mind raced over the possibilities, he realized his own illogicality: he was, after all, in a foreign country, and their mission was international in scope.
Still, the US military weren’t even letting their own noncoms see the Gadfly series of helicopters. He felt like he’d been caught with his pants down.
“Honoured to meet you, sir,” he said, concealing his thoughts behind a mask of formality.
“Most pleased to meet you as well, Commander Grimes,” said the President. “These are most unusual helicopters. I have never seen anything like them.”
“They’re brand-new, sir,” replied Grimes, still at attention.
Halsey smiled. “You can relax, Commander. I’ve explained the nature of the Gadfly mission to President Frei.” He turned to the President. “Commander Grimes is one of our best anti-terrorist agents. He is natural y sensitive about our secret aircraft.”
Grimes was a quick study, but it didn’t take a genius to see that the President was suited up ready to take a ride. He was even holding one of the prototype IR helmets that only the crews of the Gadfly wore.
“I see you’re planning a flight, sir,” he said. “Quite unexpected, if I may say so.”
“I’m sure it is, Commander Grimes,” said Halsey, “but I think this is the best way to show our friend our mission is truly one of friendship.”
“Yes, sir.”
Rob Walters had been standing mutely nearby.
Grimes turned to him. “This is the pilot of Gadfly 1. Lieutenant Robert Walters, from Pennsylvania. You can just call him Rob.”
The President shook Walters’s hand. “Most pleased to meet you, Rob.”
The pilot nodded and smiled. Somewhat shorter than Grimes, he had the stocky look of a man that couldn’t be readily pushed around. Grimes respected him for his loyalty and, more importantly, his directness. Rob was no yes-man; he could always be relied upon for a straight and honest answer, even if it hurt. Also, he was bright — he was known to his friends as The Walking Encyclopedia. Once he’d learned something it was in there permanently, and easily retrieved. If Grimes had any complaint about Walters at all it was that he was almost too indispensable. Grimes didn’t like having to rely on anyone. But Walters had become the single member of Grimes’s Dogs he absolutely depended upon.
“If you’re going to take a flight, Mr President,” said Grimes, “Rob is your pilot. Rob, could you see to the refuelling?”
“Roger that, sir.” Walters walked off to the rear of the chopper, where a crew was beginning a preflight checkout.
Grimes turned back to President Frei. “As a matter of fact, sir, we were going to take her up again on a full tank. We want to get her above the Andes so we can check out the peaks.”
Frei smiled. “It would be no imposition if I were to ride with you, I trust?”
Grimes looked to Halsey for confirmation. The captain nodded.