Vance moved quickly up the hill, toward the toppled gantry. Already he
had a view of the wide sloping window that was the center of Launch
Control, and he could see figures there, though not clearly enough to
know if Ramirez was one of them. Maybe they were SatCom staffers or . .
.
No. There was Ramirez, talking on the phone. And standing beside him
was the man Vance had come to love . . . Isaac Mannheim. The old
professor looked haggard, a perfectionist man who had despaired. He
clearly had lost touch with time and place. Then Ramirez handed him the
phone and barked something at him. Dejectedly he took it and started
speaking.
Damn. Any half-competent sniper could take out Ramirez here and now. He
thought he was safe, and he had never been more exposed. But this was
not a job for an amateur, not with Mannheim so close.
Okay, he thought, guess this is going to have to happen the hard way.
He extracted a flash grenade from the vest Willem had given him and got
ready to pull the pin.