"Can we retrieve him? Can you see where he is?"
Sontag forced himself to look out the window once again. The space-suited figure was spread-eagle, in nearly the same position as before, but this time with a cloud of unrecognizable debris floating all around him. The body started to revolve, as though at the end of an invisible noose, and Sontag could see the softball-size hole in the corpse…
"Enterprise, this is Saint-Michael. Jerrod, what's happened?"
Will clicked open the ship-to-station interphone. "General, Baker and Yemana… — they're dead."
A pause. "You sure?"
Will didn't answer, instead put his head down on his chest and hammered on the front glare shield, realizing now what he had done…
Lieutenant General Govorov could identify only one possible source of the unexpected missile attack: the Thor missile garage tethered beneath the station.
He quickly activated his laser designator and placed the aiming reticle on the neutral particle-beam projector mounted beneath the garage. He fired two missiles into the garage, creating a huge fireworks display of sparks and secondary explosions that finally caused the Thor garage to break free of its steel tether and spin away from the station.
He reestablished his original observation position above the space station and keyed his microphone. "Elektron Two, report."
"Status green, Lead," Voloshin replied. "Two American cosmonauts carrying what appeared to be Thor missiles…"
"Cosmonauts?"
"Affirmative. I can't see first one, he was close to the explosion of the Thor missile he launched at you. Second one has been… dispatched. I'm maneuvering to begin attack."
"Acknowledged. Maneuver back to preplanned position and report when ready to attack. I am maneuvering back into position."
As Voloshin watched Govorov pull his fighter into a wide turn around the space station, the younger pilot thought about the wisdom of waiting to get back in position. No, the time to attack was now — before the Americans tried something else. He pulled his Elektron up twenty degrees, pointing it at the center of the station, and activated his laser designator.
The aiming reticle rested on the first large object in view — the underside of the crew compartment of the space shuttle Enterprise…
"They're maneuvering back to their original positions, General. "
Saint-Michael, already shocked by the report on Baker and Yemana, was motioning Jefferson, Marks and Walker toward the hatch to the main connecting tunnel. "Get on board Enterprise. They're going to start tearing this station apart with those missiles. Moyer, report to—"
A sudden explosion threw all in the command module to the wall. A large red light began blinking over the hatch leading to the main connecting tunnel. "Fire in the connecting tunnel…"
Saint-Michael helped Walker to his feet, then retrieved his earset. "Enterprise. Emergency. Fire in the connecting tunnel. Prepare for emergency disconnect."
"Jason." The voice belonged to Jerrod Will aboard the shuttle Enterprise. "Under attack… rapid decompression…" But Will, Sontag and the other crewmen aboard Enterprise had no time left.
The Scimitar missile plowed through the lower deck of the pressurized crew compartment of Enterprise, tearing apart a fuel cell and creating a massive hydrogen-oxygen explosion. Within a hundredth of a second, the lower and middeck sections of Enterprise were aflame. Davis, Wallis and Montgomery died instantly.
The missile pierced the middeck, deflected off an aluminum spar, blew through the forward cabin bulkhead and went through the RCS engine pod on the nose of the shuttle. The exploding hydrazine and nitrogen tetroxide fuel tanks in the RCS pod dissipated the Scimitar missile's remaining energy, but the damage had already been done.
Without a space suit or pressurized cabin providing a protective layer of air pressure around their bodies, the temperature of the four remaining living crewmen's bodies bubbled the dissolved gases in their blood out of solution, exploding the blood vessels in their bodies. Within a few long, agonizing minutes, in the freezing-cold depths of space, Will, Sontag, Bayles, and Kelly boiled to death.
"Will."
Saint-Michael detached himself from the Velcro near the master SBR display and propelled himself over to the hatch leading to the main connecting tunnel. He hit the button to open the hatch: nothing. The special fire- and smoke-detection interlocks built into the hatch automatically closed and locked the hatch if fire or smoke was present.
Saint-Michael turned to Marks. "Wayne, decompress the connecting tunnel down to the docking module. Moyer, can you hear me? What's your position?"
"I'm in engineering," Moyer said, his labored breathing obvious in the intercom transmission. "I'm moving toward the connecting tunnel."
"Copy." Saint-Michael checked the status displays above the hatch. The FIRE warning light had gone out, and now a PRESS warning light had illuminated. "I show the fire out and the connecting tunnel depressurized to one-half atmosphere, Moyer. You're clear to activate the interlock bypass. Be sure to take a couple of POS packs with you in case they need them."
"Roger. Opening the hatch now." Moyer depressurized the engineering module, opened the hatch leading into the connecting tunnel, then closed and sealed the hatch behind him and moved toward the large airlock module. It didn't take long for Moyer's report. "Skipper?"
"Can you make it into Enterprise? How does it look?"
"I'm at the hatch to the airlock module. I've got a FIRE light on over the hatch—"
The transmission stopped.
"Moyer?" No reply. "Moyer, report."
"Skipper… my God… the whole airlock module is burned out. I can see two bodies in the airlock. They're both burned. I think it's Kelly and Bayles… I think they tried to get back to the station…"
"Moyer…" Saint-Michael paused, tried to calm himself, to think it through… A fire in the airlock, at least two dead… two dead outside… Moyer… Ted, we need you to inspect the Enterprise. It's our only chance to get out and be rescued. You've got to check out the shuttle."
Moyer's voice was remarkably steady. "Yes, sir. I understand. I'm ready."
"Stand by. Depressurizing the airlock. " Saint-Michael turned to Marks, who activated the station's environmental control panel. Marks nodded back to the commander. "Docking, airlock module at five p.s.i."
"Roger," Moyer replied, his voice hoarse but steady. He waited until the FIRE light over the entry hatch went out as the thinned atmosphere in the module extinguished any last remaining fires. "Entering airlock. " In spite of all his efforts, Moyer could not avoid looking at the charred remnants of the men who had been his best friends for so many months. His stomach took over then…
From his vantage point high over Armstrong Space Station Alesander Govorov saw the bright flash and the explosion as the crew compartment of Enterprise was rent apart by Voloshin's missile. He saw the reflections of light in the cockpit windows and the rapidly spreading cloud of gases and debris around the shuttle. "Elektron Two. Report."
"Moving into position, Lead…"
"That explosion. What happened?"
A slight pause, then: "Teaching the Americans a lesson, Lead. Before they can attempt another attack—"
Govorov pounded on an armrest in frustration, trying to vent his anger. Voloshin was a top-notch cosmonaut and atmospheric fighter pilot. He was also five years younger than Govorov, and like most young pilots displayed more than a little impetuousness. Govorov would have strong words with him later. For now… Follow your orders, Colonel. We have a job to do. I want it done as surgically as possible. We are not teachers or butchers. "