“Through the Krayman Chip?”
“Well,” said Terrell, “if there was a way to shut all of them down at once, the whole nation would be brought to a standstill.”
Sandy’s hair ruffled in the breeze. A number of children were sitting just out of earshot now, watching them.
“But what about all the communications satellites orbiting thousands of miles above ground?” she asked him. “I’ve heard they may make land-based forms of communications obsolete someday.”
“An insightful observation, but not an altogether accurate one. To begin with, yes, com-sats do play an increasing role. Before their signal can be beamed to various sub-stations, though, it first has to be relayed up to them, and that switching process relies predominantly on—”
“The Krayman Chip again,” Sandy completed.
Terrell nodded. “And just for the record, Krayman Industries has four com-sats of their own in orbit as we speak.”
“And maybe something else …”
“What do you mean?”
Sandy spoke softly. “What would you say if I told you I had evidence linking Krayman Industries to the destruction of Adventurer last week?”
“What kind of evidence?” Terrell asked, leaning forward.
“A copy of the shuttle’s orbital flight plan delivered to me by a dying Krayman employee.”
“Did you say dying?”
“Murdered, more specifically.”
“Oh, God,” Terrell muttered. “It doesn’t make any sense. Destroying a space shuttle; no, that doesn’t fit.” He looked down, then up again. “Unless Adventurer saw something or was about to see something it wasn’t supposed to. That would explain why Krayman would be in possession of the orbital flight plan in the first place. If they put something in the sky, they’d want to know if the shuttle’s path would eventually intersect with it.”
“Wait a minute, how would Krayman get whatever it is up in the sky?”
“The same way they got their com-sats up, by contracting for a launch.”
“Through NASA?”
“In this case, more likely overseas, through France probably. They’d want a minimum of questions and the French ask none so long as all accounts are paid on time.”
“But what have they got up there that could destroy a space shuttle?”
Terrell’s face paled, his thoughts elsewhere. “Christ, this explains it. …”
“Explains what?”
“The Pegasus launching.”
“Simon, what are you talking about?”
He looked at her intensely. “An armed shuttle scheduled to be launched the day after Christmas.”
“Armed? That program was outlawed by Congress.”
“No program the military wants badly enough is ever outlawed. The funds are just redirected. In Pegasus they have a whole new generation shuttle complete with deflector shields, advanced radar technology, and a pair of laser cannons that can cut through steel two yards thick.” Terrell’s stare tilted to the sky. “And it’s being sent up there after whatever destroyed Adventurer.”
“How do you know all this?”
Terrell sighed. “I can’t leave all my old life behind me, Sandy. I still care about emerging technology. I know the proper numbers to dial, and just yesterday one of those numbers yielded me the information about Pegasus.”
“But you have no idea what it’ll be facing up there.”
“Or what the thing was launched for in the first place. Com-sats orbit at around twenty thousand miles, but Adventurer’s orbit would have placed it at only one eighty. From that altitude there’s not a hell of a lot you can do.”
“Apparently there’s enough,” Sandy said. “I don’t suppose you’ve got any ideas where I might fill in the missing pieces.”
“Just one — Houston.”
“NASA?”
“And Krayman Industries’ corporate headquarters.”
“How convenient,” Sandy managed halfheartedly.
Dolorman leaned painfully forward, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Will you repeat that, Wells?”
“The man posing as a reporter at Sahhan’s reception was Blaine McCracken.”
“McCracken’s dead. We received positive confirmation of that.”
“I wasn’t convinced then, and now I’m certain he’s alive. There was an incident following the reception that fits McCracken’s style.”
“What sort of incident?”
“The middleman Krell disappeared and his bodyguards were killed.”
“Even so, a certain ‘style’ is hardly the basis for such a conclusion on your part,” noted Dolorman.
“I’m also going by descriptions from the scene of the reception,” Wells told him. “I said from the beginning that Scola wasn’t capable of dealing with McCracken, and I stick to my claim.”
“What is it between the two of you, Wells?” Dolorman asked. “What happened back there in Vietnam?”
“I’ve got a debt I owe him,” was all the big man said.
Dolorman’s expression wavered. “If you’re right, Wells, all of Omega might be in danger. With only seventy-two hours until activation, we can’t have that.”
“We’re going about this in the wrong way, I think,” Verasco interjected. “If McCracken is still alive, we must assume he is still working for Andrew Stimson and the Gap. It would seem a much simpler matter to get rid of Stimson.”
Dolorman turned the scarred man’s way. “Wells?”
Wells’s one working eyebrow rose. “Leave it to me.”
“I have already left to you the elimination of security leaks, and little has been accomplished in that regard.”
“My people are closing on the source now. A break-through should come at any time.”
“See that it does. The fewer complications we face in the coming days, the better.”
“I assume, then, that the order to leave Sandy Lister alive remains in force.”
Dolorman nodded. “We are better off letting her follow a path that can ultimately lead nowhere.” He turned gingerly toward Verasco. “I’m more concerned about Sahhan. Did that unpleasant business at the reception unsettle him?”
“If anything,” said Verasco, “he is more charged than ever. Our people close to him say he is working himself into a frenzy. He can barely sleep at night. Apparently Christmas Eve can’t come fast enough for him.”
“Or us,” added Dolorman.
Chapter 16
McCracken Reached Paris late Saturday and immediately set the wheels in motion for locating the world’s most celebrated arms dealer, François Deveraux. Deveraux held the unique distinction of being the only arms dealer ever profiled by a major American television newsmagazine that had set out to break the stereotype of the dark-eyed man selling stolen rifles out of a warehouse. Indeed, most of what Deveraux did was both respectable and totally legal. The great majority of his business arrangements were made with legitimate military or paramilitary groups who wanted American- or Russian-made arms and, who, for whatever reason, chose not to deal direct. His equipment was often surplus and frequently secondhand. Deveraux made no secret of his profession and chose his clients with as much caution and discretion as he could afford.
Blaine knew the arms dealer quite well, in fact had saved his life once a decade or so back when a group of fanatical Arab terrorists were upset after Deveraux backed out of a deal with them. Blaine had stepped in and handled the hit team personally. The credit went to the Israelis.