Hunter laughed out loud. "If he had attacked you, Doctor, you wouldn't be standing in the ICU. You'd be lying in the graveyard. And if Ghost came to visit you at the cemetery, all those dead folks would be leaping out of their graves."
"It is a vicious dog."
"He's a wolf."
"I don't give a damn what he is! He interfered without cause or provocation in the performance of my duties. He is a dangerous animal and he'll have to be destroyed or removed from the base."
"Oh, he'll be removed, Doctor. Just as soon as I'm removed. Just as soon as the professor is removed. And, until then, he'll do just as he's told. He'll stay in this room and guard Dr. Tipler."
Hamilton sneered. "We already have guards, Mr. Hunter."
Hunter smiled.
A moment passed, and the physician's eyes narrowed. "So you are the one who led a team of professional soldiers into a massacre." He shook his head. "I cannot say that I am surprised by your recklessness. As I said, we already have guards but you insist on this insanity."
"You don't have a guard that never sleeps, Doctor," Hunter half-laughed at the ludicrous insult. "And if you have a problem with it, take it up with Colonel Maddox. He's the one who approved it."
"Be assured, I will."
Maddox came through the door, slightly winded. His face was flushed, as if he had raced from the other side of the compound. "Then you can speak to me right now," he said, coming forward. "What is the problem, Doctor?"
Pointing solidly at Ghost, Hamilton spoke with anger. "That animal is the problem, Colonel. This is a hospital facility, not a kennel. Certainly I need not remind you that it is both unsanitary and dangerous to have a wild animal inside the compound, and even more dangerous to contain it in a trauma facility. I advise you, as senior medical supervisor, to have it removed or destroyed immediately."
Maddox looked at Ghost, at Hamilton. "You don't appear to be injured, Doctor."
"The guards arrived in time to prevent an attack."
"I see." Maddox lifted his chin slightly. "So you were in fear of an attack?"
"Of course I feared an attack." Hamilton seemed offended at the tone. "Just as any reasonable man would have been in fear of an attack. Clearly, that is a dangerous animal. A wild animal. It belongs in a cage, not in an infirmary."
"Which is precisely why he is to remain beside Dr. Tipler until we airlift the hunting party from the facility, Doctor."
Maddox stopped Hamilton as he opened his mouth to reply. "There will be no more discussion on the subject, Doctor," he stressed with military bearing. "This is my command. And the wolf remains as a personal bodyguard to the professor until I receive contrary orders from my superiors. If you wish, you have my permission to contact them and discuss the situation."
Hamilton was enraged but spoke coldly. "I will, indeed, speak with them immediately, Colonel. I can assure you of that. We will see who is truly in charge here."
"You do as you see fit," Maddox replied.
Hamilton walked past him. "Believe me, I will."
Almost out the door, he stopped before Bobbi Jo and extended a dead-calm hand. "The syringe, Lieutenant."
"I'll take it," Hunter said as he gently removed it from her grasp. "Maybe the professor would like to take a look at it when he wakes up." He gazed, unblinking, at Hamilton. "Unless it's something you don't want anyone to see."
Hamilton's face flushed.
Without a word he walked out.
Watching him exit the trauma unit, Hunter's brow hardened. Bobbi Jo stepped up and looked thoughtfully at the syringe, at him. "Why did you do that?" she asked.
He once more raised the amber-filled syringe before his eyes. "Just thought about something an old man once told me about how I can tell if something is right or wrong."
"Which is?"
"He told me that if you can't tell if something is right or wrong, ask yourself if you mind people seeing what you're doing. If you'd rather keep it a secret, then maybe it ain't so right after all."
A crimson sun rose higher in the sky as Chaney lifted off in the modified Blackbird from Sparrevoh Airbase. He was immediately struck by the crimson dawn that domed the horizon in scarlet tatters and an atmosphere of eternal day.
But he knew it was an illusion created by altitude. For as long as they remained high, the day would last. It was only when you were trapped in the deep valleys and ravines that night settled so early and without warning.
Located ten miles from the closest township, the four-hundred-acre airbase was still more than five hundred miles from the as-yet unnamed research station. But the helicopter had a range of fifteen hundred miles at its maximum speed of three hundred miles per hour, so they would be there soon enough.
It had been surprisingly easy to commandeer the attack helicopter after the base commanding officer telephoned Washington to verify Chaney's orders. Then he and Brick had quickly loaded the chopper.
Chaney had used ten minutes with a qualified pilot to re-familiarize himself with the updated flight control panel and was impressed with how modern technology had changed what was basically a Huey into a flying limousine.
It was a well-crafted machine with a muffler that could be hydraulically lifted to virtually silence the twin turbos and engine. He also learned that, when cloaked, the only sound the chopper made in flight was that of rotors slicing air. It was also armed, doubling as a gunship. Yet Chaney didn't expect he'd need the 30-mm cannon so they had lifted off with only the armaments they'd brought, which seemed formidable enough.
They easily cleared the first jagged whitewall of mountains at nine thousand feet and the Magellan Navigational System kept them on a steady course. Chaney glanced at the displays as they gained even more altitude to ensure the craft was operating smoothly and not approaching the twelve-thousand-foot limit because the cabin wasn't pressurized. Plus, unless you were on oxygen at twelve thousand feet, a sudden loss of consciousness was a possibility.
With only a quick glance he saw that hydraulic pressure was steady, no overheating or cooling, and that the rotor speed and pitch were appropriate. Rear automatic stabilizers were computerized, and they automatically adjusted to wind and climatic changes.
Chaney had never flown a chopper with computer-enhanced rear rotor blades or anti-torque control, but it was easy to become accustomed to. He realized that he felt a sense of calm because, overall, the Blackhawk was a much easier chopper to fly than the crude but effective Huey.
"How long before we deck?" Brick spoke into his mike.
"It's five hundred miles… maybe two hours," Chaney replied into the headset. He could have used the cloaking device to dull the roar of the engine and the drone of the turbos, thereby making conversation easier, but the ceramic shields also increased hydraulic temperatures. He remembered that the sound-dampening system couldn't be used for more than fifteen minutes at a time because overheating, and possible engine damage, could occur.
"Good enough," Brick replied, eyes centered steadily on the vast mountains that reached up to the horizon. "We'll still get there with a couple hours of daylight. We'll use it to get a good feel for the place before you get down to your little chit-chat."
"Yeah, well, if I get the chance," Chaney responded. " 'Cause if they know we're coming, they're gonna be prepared. And I don't think the good doc is gonna take it lying down. He'll be on the horn with Washington at the first available opportunity and get some interference runnin'. And he'll probably make up some shit about how I'm hampering their precious research with my inane questions." He cocked his head. "As it is, we're already in trouble. They might throw us in jail for leaving that scene in Washington."
Brick grunted. "Yeah, they'll get us for that sooner or later, kid. Believe me. They'll have to. But don't worry about that now. And, in any case, we were smart to hit the road. If you'd stayed in Washington they would have tied you up for days or weeks with bullshit statements and forensics and probably a suspension 'til a shooting review board could be arranged. So you did the right thing. And when this little gig is over, I'll be there to testify for ya. I was a witness to the whole thing, so it won't be so bad. Really, we had no choice. We just didn't go by the book on the aftermath."