"I have a question," Michael Vance was saying. They were still resting
on the hill, and he felt himself fighting back waves of exhaustion.
"Could they get that vehicle down there off the ground without you
being in Command?"
"I hate to admit it"--Calypso Andros exhaled ruefully and leaned back
against the tree--"but they probably could. We've already had a final
test of the power-up, everything. The Fujitsu has all the controls set.
There's nothing left to do except initiate the launch routine and then
let the computer take over."
"So Bill was about to be rich." He grinned, then picked up a small
white stone and flung it down the hill. "He might even have been able
to pay off our bet. If I'd won."
"What bet was that?"
"Long ago and in another country." He shrugged, hardly caring anymore.
"It was a damned stupid stunt. We had a sailor's bet, and I lost. As it
happens, your new guests here pitched in to help. But those are the
breaks."
"Well, let's talk about the real world." She seemed scarcely to hear
what he had said. Or maybe she wasn't interested. Vance sensed she was
trying to feign normality, adopting a facade that denied the horror of
watching her young technician being shot dead. "Do you think they're
going to kill anybody else?"
What should I say? he wondered. Feed her a comforting lie, or tell her
the truth? He looked her over and decided on the latter.
"Hate to say it, but if it's really Ramirez, he'll kill anybody he
vaguely feels like. I saw him hit a U.S. frigate with a Swatter. You've
got to call that mass murder. A ton of casualties, and for no good
reason. He caught himself before he said more, the memory still
chilling. "Then again, I'd guess he's not going to take out anybody
important or technically crucial, at least for now. Which should
include Bates and Mannheim. He's got to be figuring he can use the big
names for headlines and leverage, if he needs it."
"I can't believe that the U.S. isn't going to send in the Marines,
especially when they find out he's got a bomb."
"Don't get your hopes up. There are a couple of problems with that. The
first is that they may not be allowed on Greek soil, and even if they
are, it could take several days for them to mount an operation."
"That's one." She looked at him. "What's the other?"
"The other is that if the U.S. should decide to mount an assault, it
could well turn into a bloodbath. I'm almost wishing they don't. Delta
Force and the SEALs are well trained, but as far as anybody knows,
they've never been used to carry out a straight hostage-rescue. They'd
probably come in here like John Wayne and tear this place apart. I
don't even want to think about the carnage." His voice trailed off.
"Take it from me. The people ARM is sending in are better suited for
the job at hand. They also can deploy a lot quicker than the U.S.
government."
"Well, somebody better come. And soon." She had caught a strand of her
tangled hair and was twisting it, distractedly making the tangle worse.
"What do you think these thugs really want?"
"I'd guess money's part of the package. But since Ramirez doesn't seem
to be trying to extort SatCom, at least not yet, he probably has
something bigger in mind." He slowly turned to her. "Tell me something.
These vehicles are intended to go into orbit, right? But what if one
didn't make it." He had a sudden thought. "Or what if one of them did
make it, and then the orbital trajectory got altered somehow? Retrofire
and reentry. You could set it down pretty much where you wanted,
couldn't you?"