by Cliff Ryder
While the security of the rocket company network was top-notch, Born2Slyde hadn’t thought it meant anything out of the ordinary at first.
“They’re in a high-tech field, probably lots of corporate espionage,” B2S had typed as she continued her explora-tory foray. “Nothing too spooky here yet.”
“Good, then accessing it shouldn’t be an issue—I want you inside as soon as possible,” Kate said.
“Okay, but I’ll need mainframe access for this if you want it ASAP,” the hacker typed.
“You got it.” Kate opened a screen to the DHS mainframe system in Washington and gave her limited access.
“Just get access to their rocket telemetry systems—nothing else.”
“Yes, Mom.”
Kate’s screen flashed, signaling an incoming call. The ID said it was Tracy Wentworth. “Finally.” Kate hit her earpiece. “Agent Stephanie Cassell.”
Tracy’s voice was faster than normal, but still in control.
“Stephanie, Nate and I set a trap at the hospital to try and lure one of the terrorists, but they blew up a hospital room, and almost got me with it. We took one out and are chasing—watch that minivan, Nate!—the other north-northwest. We’re trying to set up a roadblock to stop him in the next mile.”
“How close are you to him?” Kate asked.
“About twenty yards behind.”
“Okay, press star-nine-star-five-star-one on your phone.
Do it right now.”
Kate heard the beeps, and on her satellite map of the chase, the pursuing truck was now the centerpoint of a red circle that moved with it, enveloping the fleeing car in the crimson field, along with several others that they passed.
“What did that do?” Tracy asked.
“You’ve just jammed his cell communications, along with everyone else’s in a fifty-yard radius—we don’t want him alerting his bosses that we’re on to him.”
“My phone just did that? But mine still works—”
“Yes. Tell Nate he needs to take this guy out now,” Kate said.
Tracy relayed the message and heard a furious Texas drawl in the background. “What in the hell does she think I’m doing, playing tag with him?”
Kate smiled grimly at the border agent’s tone. “Hardly.
Look, we’ve uncovered a company that we think may be involved in the plot. Spaceworks, Incorporated. Do you think he’s headed back there?”
“If he’s got half a brain in his head, he won’t lead us back to his HQ—oh, good, we’ve got two cops behind us.
Nate, let them know who we are.”
“Already on it—whoa!”
Kate heard the screech of tires, then the loud bang of plastic and metal impacting. She looked up to see the sedan they had been chasing had stopped in the middle of the lane, and Nate’s truck had almost plowed through it, but just ended up smacking it instead. The police cars swerved to avoid the pile-up, but the sedan was already moving again.
“Tracy? Are you all right?” Kate asked.
“Nate, get down!” she heard in her ear, along with the distinctive sound of a submachine gun firing.
“Goddammit, this ain’t happening again!” Nate shouted. The truck leaped forward, whizzing past other cars, the rise and fall of police sirens accompanying them.
“There’s a clear patch coming up. Hold on, I’m gonna give him a little tap.”
“That might not be such a good—shit!” Tracy screamed.
Kate heard the screech of tires again, followed by a loud thud and the roar of a revving engine. On-screen, she watched as the truck approached to the right rear of the sedan, then swerved, hitting it on the left rear body panel.
The sedan spun wildly, tires screeching as the driver fought for control. Still spinning, he roared down an embank-ment and stopped at the bottom.
“Suspect’s car has stopped. All units, approach with caution, subject is heavily armed and may be carrying explosives on his person.” Nate’s voice carried loud and clear, then Kate heard the sound of a car door opening, and traffic rushing by.
“Department of Homeland Security. Come out with your hands up!” Kate heard his voice, electronically modified as if he were speaking through a bullhorn. In the distance, she heard a faint cry.
“Allahu Akb—!”
The shout was cut off by an explosion that made Kate snatch her earpiece off her head, gasping in shock. As she watched the satellite image, the sedan erupted in a glowing, gold ball of flame forcing everyone to retreat. Kate inserted the earpiece again. “Tracy? Tracy, are you there?”
“Yeah, Stephanie—yeah, I’m here. Jesus, he just blew himself up. Must have been a grenade or a bomb or something, I don’t know. But he’s gone and he took any evidence we might have found with him.”
“Listen, you have to get over to Spaceworks—they’re a rocket company. We think al-Kharzi is planning a low-earth-orbit strike to spread an EMP wave over the eastern United States.”
“Could these guys have come from there?”
“Right now it’s our strongest hunch. Did you manage to get a look at the car’s license plate?”
“There wasn’t time, but the camera in the Silverado probably got it. Nate, we need to get out of here.”
“I’m downloading the address and directions from your location now. Try to coordinate the Border Patrol and any other DHS agents in the area if you can, but go in quietly— we can’t tip them off, or they might launch early. Brief everyone there on keeping the press out of this for now— we don’t want to cause a panic.”
“Got it. Nate, let’s roll!”
“Oh, one more thing,” Kate said.
“Yeah.”
“Reverse that code, one-five-nine, to turn off the cell-jamming program.”
“Thanks, Stephanie, we’ll be in touch once we’re at Spaceworks.”
“We’ll be watching over you,” Kate said.
Before Kate hung up, she heard Nate say, “Hey, that isn’t too far from here, maybe about fifteen minutes southwest.”
I hope that’s quick enough, she thought, turning her attention to crafting a message that would bring every law-enforcement officer in the area running, and hoping to God that she wouldn’t have to broadcast it.
Nate kept his eyes on the road while Tracy skimmed through the camera data, searching for the license plate.
“Here it is. Call the plate number in,” she said.
He read off the plate number to the DHS office and requested a priority response. A few minutes later it came back as a personal vehicle belonging to Zakariya Malik Jasfari. “Where does this guy work?” Nate asked. He heard keystrokes in the background. “Okay, that’s everything we need. Thanks very much,” he said. He turned to Tracy and said, “Bingo!”
He switched channels while he punched up the address for Spaceworks, Inc. “All units in the area, I need immediate backup at the following address on a code thirteen.
I repeat, this is a code thirteen.” Nate used the common law-enforcement code to refer to a possible disaster situation. “Request hazmat team respond, as well. All units converge at the junction road that leads to the target area.”
He replaced the mike and nodded to Tracy. “At least these guys are in the middle of the desert, and not right in town.
I’d get on the horn with your feebee buddy and get us a search warrant for the entire premises, if she can.”
Tracy was already dialing. “Shouldn’t be a problem, especially since we only have to mention the nuke word.” She connected in a few seconds. “Stephanie? We’re following up on the Spaceworks lead, and our fleeing terrorist apparently worked for them…. Yes, a search warrant—you’re already working on it? Great, fax it to the El Paso DHS office, and we’ll have someone run it out here…Will be in touch as soon as we’ve secured the area.” She disconnected.
“Okay, we’re almost there.” Nate scanned the barren desert on both sides, looking for the dirt road driveway.
“Come on, where the hell a
re you?”
“Right there.” Tracy pointed at a narrow road to their right, which barely looked like anything special compared to the rest of the stark landscape.
“Hmm, not even a sign pointing out the road to anyone coming out here. Not a very effective way to advertise your company, is it?”
Tracy looked at the dirt road that climbed a hill and disappeared over the crest. The glow of bright lights could be seen in the distance. She glanced back at Nate. “I hope you don’t want to handle this like the illegals back at the farm.”
“Well, if we’re only a couple of miles away from an organized terrorist cell, perhaps a more measured approach might be in order. We’ll drive parallel to the road close to the top of that rise and see what we can see. Once the cavalry arrives, then we can go in full bore and shut them down.”
Tracy nodded. “Works for me.”
Turning off the headlights, Nate put his night-vision goggles on and drove onto the driveway just long enough to get off the main road, Then he turned into the desert itself, powering up the rise until they were only about twenty yards from the crest. He stopped the truck and checked his pistol. “Close enough. Ready?”
“After what we did earlier, I’m ready for just about anything.” Tracy made sure her pistol was locked and loaded, and slipped out of the truck. Nate waited for her to join him, his shotgun slung over his back, and they began creeping up the rise.
Surely Allah will not let this transgression happen—not when we are so close.
Sepehr could scarcely believe that the events of the past half hour had even occurred, much less that they had resulted in what he was watching at the moment.
It had all started with Joseph coming back into the sound booth after Sepehr had recorded his triumphant message to the world. Instead of his neat attire and hair from yesterday, the owner of Spaceworks was now haggard and unshaved, dressed in rumpled clothes, with dark circles under his eyes from staying up for over twenty-four hours. “Sepehr, you must see this!”
He turned on the television mounted on the wall, and a local television station showed footage of the Providence Memorial Hospital, followed by the burning remains of a destroyed car. Joseph turned up the volume, letting the news anchor fill them in.
“Witnesses reported hearing gunfire on the third floor of the hospital, followed by a loud explosion. One of the two men suspected to have caused the blast was killed at the scene, while the other fled, pursued by law-enforcement officers until he was driven off the road, where his car exploded. Police and fire crew are on the scene. Police are not releasing any further details at this time, but we expect a press conference to be called about this incident later this morning—”
“We had not received any calls from either man before their deaths, correct?” Sepehr asked.
“I’m afraid not.”
“Then we do not know if they were successful in completing their mission.”
“But the blast—that surely must have come from a grenade,” Joseph said.
“It is not confirmation that the woman—if there even was one in the first place—is dead. However, that does not matter now, when we are so close to launch—” Sepehr stopped when he saw the look on Joseph’s face. “What?”
“That was what I was coming in to tell you before I saw the news report. We’re having a slight problem with the gimbal nozzle control system. If it’s not working perfectly, we will not be able to control the direction of the rocket.”
Sepehr took a deep breath. “How long until it is fixed?”
“It should not be long—ten, perhaps fifteen minutes at the most.”
“Very well. Once that is solved, I want you to move to launch immediately. We do not know if we have been compromised by the trap the Americans laid for us.”
Joseph’s cell phone rang, a harsh, jarring tone that made him look down in surprise. “That’s a priority security alert. Come on!”
Sepehr was already moving before the other man stopped talking, running past Joseph to push the door open and head for the main lobby. Once there, he swiped his ID card through and ran to the station, where the night guard was watching a bank of monitors inset into the console.
“Sirs, one of the thermal cameras has detected intruders approximately one mile from the outside perimeter.
They are observing the base. They appear to be using night-vision equipment, and are armed with handguns.”
Sepehr’s fingers curled into fists as he resisted the urge to shove the man out of the way. “Show me,” he said.
“On this screen.”
He stared at the pair, showing up in stark red, yellow and orange against the blacks and dark blues of the surrounding desert. One of them watched the compound through binoculars. The other lay beside him, just looking down at the compound.
Surely we are being tested. Before our ultimate victory, we must face all manner of obstacles in our path, he thought. Sepehr’s head snapped up. “Joseph, order your men to fix the problem with the rocket as soon as possible.
Launch the moment you are ready.” He turned to the security man. “Send a team out in the hybrid to eliminate these two. Prepare the sniper teams on the roof, but do not let them take their positions until these two are dead. If the Americans want to sniff around our door like dogs, then we must be prepared to welcome them.”
“So far everything looks normal. Here, take a look.”
Tracy took the binoculars from Nate and focused on the object that most interested her—the rocket. About three stories tall, it certainly looked as if it could roar up and spread electromagnetic chaos across the land with ease.
She panned across the rest of the compound, looking for security points and any weaknesses.
“I see the guard post with two men inside, a steel arm gate and, behind that, what looks like a pop-up barrier to stop anything heavy from entering the perimeter. Pretty elaborate for a private company. Looks like the guard at the main gate is reporting in—security isn’t lax, that’s for sure. Not much other activity. I’d have thought there would be people around the rocket, checking it out and such.”
Nate ducked down behind the hill. “Maybe they aren’t launching tonight, which would be great—we could take them out without worrying about that thing taking off.
Hey, did you hear something?”
Tracy lowered the field glasses and glanced around them. “Something like what?”
“I don’t know, some kind of hum. The desert plays a lot of tricks on your senses, messes with the direction you hear things coming from, that sort of thing. I just thought I heard a low humming noise, like some kind of generator.”
“It might have been from down there,” Tracy said.
“Yeah, but it didn’t sound like it came from down there.
It sounded like it came from—”
Behind them, the Silverado’s hood suddenly buckled and popped up, and Tracy heard the metallic noise of bullets hitting the engine and windshield. Ducking down behind the slope, she looked back to see the driver’s-side tires blow out, making the truck lean to one side. But she didn’t hear the loud report of an automatic rifle, nor did she see the flash of the weapon. She scooted farther down the rise. “Where’s it coming from?”
Nate had pulled out his shotgun, which he clutched in helpless anger. “Looks like about ten o’clock, somewhere over there. They’ve flanked us, they got our range, and now our wheels are gone, so we’re stuck until the reinforcements arrive.”
The firing had stopped for the moment, and Tracy risked a quick peek in that direction. “Even with the night vision it’s tough to see—wait a minute, I got someone. Looks like a three-man team, driver, spotter and shooter, all in a four-wheel-drive. I think the bastards are playing with us.”
“They might as well. We can’t use the other side of the hill as cover, and it seems that they have either night vision or thermal, too. We’re pinned down here. We need some kind of diversion.”
“Like an explosion?” Tracy h
eld out the fragmentation grenade she had taken from the dead terrorist at the hospital.
Nate grabbed it out of her hand. “That’ll do. I’ll hurl this as far as I can over there. When it goes off, run for the truck.
We should be able to hold them off from there. Give it a two-count after the blast so you don’t get hit by shrapnel. Ready?”
Nate pulled the pin, reared up on his knees and threw the grenade overhand toward the shooter. He hit the dirt and covered his ears. A few seconds later, the detonation kicked up a plume of dirt and dust. Hands over her ears, Tracy counted silently in her head—one…two…go!
She ran for the hulk of the disabled Silverado. Nate’s long legs pounded the dirt as he sprinted for cover beside her. She reached the truck a second after him, her chest heaving with the exertion. Pistol gripped tightly, she took up a position at the back and ducked out for a quick peek at their attackers.
“I got nothing back here. How about you?”
Nate’s reply was cut off by the impact of high-velocity bullets against the Silverado, making them both hit the dirt as lead punched through the body panels of the truck above their heads.
Tracy spit dust from her mouth. “You sure this was the best idea?”
“Better than staying trapped on the open desert to be cut down. At least here, under some cover, we’ve got a chance.
All we have to do now is wait for backup,” Nate said.
“And if they come in to get us?”
“Then we take out as many as we can. If they really want us dead, they have to come over here to do it.”
“That’s a comforting thought.” The firing had stopped and Tracy sat up with her back against the wheel, waiting for the next assault to begin. Instead of automatic-rifle fire, she heard tires crunching on the dirt, but no engine noise. As she started to turn to look under the truck to see what was coming, a small four-wheel-drive with an open top raced out of the darkness at the Silverado. A man in the back was leveling a long-barreled assault rifle at her.
“Down!” Tracy shouted and rolled back as the 7.62 mm bullets ripped through the back of the vehicle, shattering the windows and sending glass cascading down on her.