Hugo Voorst was lying propped against a rock, his shoulder bandaged
with white strips of gauze from the first-aid kit. Now that the flow of
blood had been staunched, Marcel was injecting him with a shot of
morphine to quell the looming pain. Happily the hit was clean, just a
flesh wound and nothing serious, but he would be of no further use on
the mission. Worse still, he actually had become a liability. The only
thing to do was to leave him where he was, with an H&K machine pistol
for protection, and proceed. You didn't like to abandon anybody, but .
. .
Voorst, for his own part, mainly felt sheepish. Giddy though he was,
the result of mild shock, his Dutch stoicism was still holding up.
"I'll be all right," he was saying, a slow grin covering his face as
the narcotic kicked in. "Sorry to be a party pooper."
"You got lucky," Hans soothed, checking the bandage one last time. "You
get to take a little time off. But you may still have a chance to give
us some backup if things get hot."
Armont had not said anything, leaving the kidding around to the younger
men. They needed it to keep up their macho. The hard truth was, the
whole operation was rapidly turning into a disaster of the first
magnitude. Everything possible had gone wrong. And now he had no idea
where Vance was. The situation had gone red, the odds deteriorating
rapidly.
Ramirez had been lured out, but he had been saved by the _deus ex
machina _of an unexpected but short-lived attack from their rear. What
had that been all about?
Then he noticed a glint in the sky, through the early dawn, and
realized it was a helo, far in the distance, banking as its pilot began
turning back. He looked more carefully and counted four. All egressing.
"Take a look." He pointed toward the cluster of tiny dots slowly
diminishing in the dim sky. "Looks like somebody showed up just long
enough to screw us, then aborted. And now Mike is back in the Belly of
the Beast." He turned and peered at the fog-swathed floodlights, now
growing pale as dawn began arriving in earnest. Around them the dull
outlines of trees and rocks were lightening into greens and granite-
grays. "With the damned rocket still sitting up there ready to blast
off.
"All right," he continued after a thoughtful pause, "we know where
Ramirez is, but after all the shooting around here, the idea of a nice
clean insertion will have to go by the boards." He returned his gaze to
Launch Control. "No way in hell could we take Launch by surprise now.
Ramirez has got to know something is brewing. Which means we're going
to have to do things the old-fashioned way. Bad news for the hostages
if they don't know how to get out of the way, but we've got to deal
with the bomb, no matter what."
There was muttering and grumbling. ARM men did not fancy excessive
gunfire. They had all long passed that age of youthful denial when men
thought they were invulnerable. They had seen too much.
"By the way," Armont abruptly interrupted everybody's chain of thought,
"what happened to the woman who was here, Dr. Andros? Was she hit?"
Nobody had noticed, up until that point, that she was absent. They
quickly checked the rocks around the area, but she was nowhere to be
found.
"Forget about her," he finally decreed. "If she doesn't want to stay
with us, then she's not our problem." He thought a minute. "Maybe we
should break radio silence and see if we can raise Vance. He took a
unit with him."
"I'm against it," Willem Voorst declared. "As a matter of fact, I'm
against doing anything. If the U.S. is planning to come in here and
take down this place, then why should we risk our own ass. Let's just
get in a secure position and let them do our work for us. We've never
had that kind of help before. It might be refreshing. I think Michael
can take care of himself. Why--"
"No, we can't wait for them, whoever it was." Armont cut him off. "I
don't know what the hell they were really up to. And besides, if that
little demonstration we just had was any indication, their mode is
going to be to shoot first and ask questions later. So we have to
finish our job, just get it over with. And I'll tell you what I think.
Since Launch is a muck-up now, our best bet is to keep Ramirez off
guard for a while and go ahead and take down Command. Immediately,
before they realize what's going on. With any luck, maybe they won't be
expecting it." He looked around. "Make a three-point entry, flash-bangs
and tear gas. Just blow out the place." He paused to let the words
sink. "Well," he continued finally, "does anybody disagree?"
There were nervous frowns, but nobody did. Instead, they began silently
collecting their gear.