"Are you offering me a job?"
"I need competent commanders. You're a patriot like me. You know what's been happening to our country. Come over to me and you'll have an important role to play in the new military."
"What rank?"
"Full Colonel, to start. I'll give you a Battalion. How about it?"
"I don't think so," Nick said, "I've had enough of tin pot generals like you."
"Why are you Marines always so damn stubborn?" Westlake said. "You call yourself a civilian, but there are no civilians in a war."
"We're not at war."
"No?" Westlake said. "We have been at war for some years. Are you aware of the storms that just ravaged the Mid West?"
"The twisters?" Nick said. "Those were acts of nature."
"No, Carter, they were not. They are the result of interference in the ionosphere by our enemies. Do you know what SATWEP is?"
"I know it's a secret satellite weapons program and that you're in charge of it."
"Our primary mission is to develop satellite weaponry that can manipulate weather over enemy territory. Beijing and Moscow have similar programs. The Chinese are developing new technology that could tip the balance. We need a firm hand in Washington to do something about it."
"By starting riots? Killing American citizens, non-combatants? I know about Ajax and what you intend to do."
"My," Westlake said. "You have been busy. It's unfortunate, but there are always casualties in war. Do you know the story of Ajax?"
"The Greek hero in Homer's Iliad?" Nick said.
Westlake nodded in approval. "I'm glad to see that your education was adequate. Ajax was the strongest of the Greek warriors. Strength is what we lack now, thanks to Rice and his ilk. That ends today."
"This isn't a Greek poem," Nick said. "What's Ajax got to do with it?"
Talking about Ajax seemed to infuse Westlake with energy. He sucked on his cheeks. His eyes gleamed.
He's nuts. Crazy as a loon, Nick thought.
"Ajax was a hero and a credit to his nation," Westlake said. "He carried a massive shield to protect him and his comrades. I am building a shield for our country. Then no one will dare challenge us."
"It didn't protect Ajax from himself," Nick said. "If I remember the story right, he threw a temper tantrum over who would get Achilles' armor and killed himself. Doesn't sound very heroic to me."
Westlake studied him. "That was because Homer was biased in favor of Achilles. Ajax was a greater warrior than Achilles, but he never got the credit he deserved. He was cheated by Homer out of his rightful due."
"The way you were passed over for the Joint Chiefs?" Nick said.
Westlake's face flushed. "You are an insolent bastard," he said.
"Five minutes, General," Abingdon said.
Senator Martinez said, "These people are a distraction. What are you going to do with them?"
Nick looked at him. "It's people like you that give democracy a bad name," he said. "You're a disgrace. All that crap about protecting the little guy, jobs for minorities. I always knew you were a phony."
Ronnie laughed.
Martinez gave him a look of contempt. "You won't be laughing soon, Tonto."
"You asked what I'm going to do?" Westlake said. "I'm going to let them watch. It's only fitting for them to witness their failure."
"Four minutes," Abingdon said.
"Bring up a live view."
"Yes, sir."
The wall monitor displayed a computerized map of the Eastern seaboard. Changing numbers scrolled on the right side of the screen as the satellite neared the coast. Abingdon entered a string of commands. The view changed to a live shot of the Northeastern Seaboard. Boston, New York and Philadelphia were clearly visible.
Westlake said, "When I give the command, Ajax will transmit ultra high frequency radio waves and trigger the amplifiers at the target sites. The amplified waves affect everyone within several square miles. The result is a total loss of impulse control and stimulation of the reptilian brain. You get primal rage. Survival instincts are activated. Riots will begin in the targeted cities. Edmonds will have to declare martial law."
His tone was conversational. He might have been discussing the weather.
"The numbers you see on the screen tell us time to target, range, velocity relative to the Earth's surface, everything else we need to know. In another two minutes or so, Ajax will be in range."
"Sir, I've detected a deviation of almost two degrees," Abingdon said.
"Don't bother me with that sort of thing, Abingdon. Correct it."
"Yes, sir."
Abingdon moved the joystick on his console. On screen, the live picture of the US altered slightly as the satellite changed position. Selena watched him, then glanced at the readout indicating time to target. The numbers were in bright red. They descended in numbing indifference.
1:19.
1:18.
1:17.
"This satellite is something we developed at DARPA," Westlake said. "It uses an experimental nuclear propulsion system that generates a stream of ionized gases. It never runs out of fuel. I can move it anywhere I like. It does require monitoring and careful control, however."
Selena and her guard stood near the control console. Nick saw her edge a fraction closer to the panel. Their eyes met. He nodded, the movement almost undetectable.
"I don't understand something, General," Nick said. He needed to keep Westlake's attention. "What do you hope to gain by this? You'll never be able to follow through. The Army will stop you."
Westlake laughed. "Oh, really, Carter. You don't think I would do this without the support of the Army, do you? Senior officers who are not with us are being isolated as we speak. The troops follow orders. They'll be told terrorists are behind the riots, domestic agitators. There are plenty of angry groups out there we can blame. Once martial law is in place nation-wide, there won't be anything anyone can do."
Selena edged closer.
"One minute," Abingdon said.
"The President will stop you," Nick said.
"The President is about to have a fatal relapse," Westlake said. "Edmonds will be sworn in. He'll do what I say."
"He's part of this?"
Before Westlake could answer, Selena made her move. She couldn't use her arms, bound behind her. Her guard was looking at Westlake. She pivoted on one foot and swept the man's legs from under him. As he fell, she slammed her body into Abingdon and knocked him aside. She butted the joystick with her head.
On screen, the picture spun in a crazy arc as the satellite went out of control.
"NO!" Westlake shouted.
Nick body checked Westlake against the computer bench and the two of them went down. Someone was shouting. Abingdon got to his feet and started for the console. Ronnie launched himself at him and sent him flying.
On screen, the picture was a dizzying swirl. The red numbers cascaded in a blur on the right of the screen as the satellite tumbled toward the planet's surface. It entered the atmosphere. The cameras registered a brief, orange glow. Then the screen went dark.
The guards had Nick and the others pinned to the floor.
Westlake got to his feet. His face was flushed, the skin pulled tight. A vein throbbed on the side of his forehead.
"Stand them up," he said. His voice had a strangled sound. "STAND THEM UP!"
The guards pulled Nick, Selena and Ronnie to their feet. Abingdon looked shaken. Martinez seemed stunned by what had happened.
"Good job, Selena," Nick said.
"Give me your rifle," Westlake said to the man with the three stripes. A name stenciled on his shirt identified him as Miller.
"Sir…" he hesitated.
Westlake's voice was filled with menace. "I said give me your rifle." Miller handed him the assault rifle.