Cybernation nf-6

by Tom Clancy

  He blinked at her. She was, what? Five two, maybe a hundred and twenty, twenty-five pounds? He took a step toward the cabin’s phone on the bedside table.

  Somehow, she got between him and the phone and shoved him. He was off-balanced by the little push. He fell on the bed.

  Screw this! He might get mauled by a man like Santos, but he was not going to be pushed around by some little woman! He jumped up, intending to slap her silly. He swung his hand at her face, hard—

  She ducked the slap, and hit him with a brick in the ribs! Before he could recover, she did something to his feet, tripped him, and he fell back on the bed again.

  He lost it. All the suppressed rage he’d felt at being used and abused by Chance, at being assaulted by that trained ape Santos, at being attacked by a woman in his own room, it all exploded. He screamed and leaped at her. He was going to choke the life from her—!

  He came out of grayness, puzzled. He saw a woman sitting next to him, watching him. Who was this? Where was he? His thoughts were sluggish, as though wrapped in sheets of lead. He hurt, more than he had before. He needed a pain pill, that’s what he needed. Had he been in an accident?

  “Sorry,” the woman said.

  Part of it came back to him. He was in his cabin, on the ship. He’d come here, to… to do something, and this woman had been here. She had attacked him. Hit him with a club. Where was the club?

  “Wh-who are you? What do you want?” God, he hurt.

  “It’s not important who I am,” she said. “But we need to talk. I need you to tell me all about what you’ve been up to.”

  A surge of depression broke over him. This sucked! He had been beaten by Santos, threatened with death. And now, he had been beaten by a woman! A tiny little woman! It was embarrassing. He was ashamed. He felt himself starting to cry. What had he done to deserve any of this? It wasn’t right!

  “It’s all right,” she said, patting him on the shoulder. “I won’t hurt you anymore.”

  That really made things worse.

  In the Air East of Fort Lauderdale, Florida

  The Sikorsky’s intercom bonged: “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain. As you’ve noticed, we’re getting a little weather here, and apparently the conditions are worse at our destination. While we could probably make it just fine, I’d rather not take the risk, so I’m afraid we’re going to have to abort our flight and go back to Fort Lauderdale. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

  With those words, the big helicopter started a slow turn to port.

  Howard sighed. Of course. It had been too easy. He looked across the aisle at Julio and nodded.

  Julio unbuckled his seat belt, stood, then stepped into the aisle and headed forward.

  One of the two flight attendants moved to intercept him. “Sir, please take your seat. The captain has the seat belt sign lit.”

  “I’m gonna puke,” Julio said. He moved closer toward the flight control cabin, which wasn’t far.

  “I’ll get you an airsickness bag, but you need to sit down—”

  Julio said, “Sergeant Reaves?”

  Reaves, a brawny man with a high-and-tight buzz cut, came up and grabbed the flight attendant, one arm pinning her arms to her body, the other hand covering her mouth. The woman tried to yell, but only a little sound got past the sergeant’s powerful grip.

  The second flight attendant, at the back, saw this and reached for an intercom mike, but a trooper caught her and sat her back in her seat.

  Julio reached under his tails-out Hawaiian shirt and pulled his pistol, the old warhorse of a Beretta he carried, and hurried forward to have a little chat with the pilot and copilot.

  A few seconds later, the helicopter turned back toward the southeast.

  Howard looked at Michaels and gave the commander a little shrug. “Stuff happens,” he said. “No problem.”

  Howard turned and motioned to his pilot to go forward. The man did. A minute later, Julio marched the copilot back and sat him in the vacated seat. His pistol was tucked back into its holster. He went back to his seat and buckled himself in.

  “Everything okay, Lieutenant?”

  “All systems green, sir. The captain has decided that cooperation is in his best interest, since our pilot is in the second chair with a gun and he’s let the captain know he knows how to fly this thing. He wasn’t ordered to turn back, it was his decision. ETA is thirty minutes. Might as well sit back and enjoy the ride.”

  A downdraft dropped the copter at that moment, a free fall that made them nearly weightless for a second or so. The fall stopped, and the craft shook as if it had bumped into something in the air. Howard looked at Julio.

  “Think of it as a new and exciting ride at Disney World,” Julio said. “The Upchucker.”

  On the Bon Chance

  Santos looked at his watch and frowned. Forty-five minutes, and no sign of Mary Johnson. He had called and found that she had checked out, but the rain and wind were worse now, and they had shut down the commercial flights back to the Mainland, and according to their records, Ms. Johnson had not left yet. So she was here somewhere, and if she wasn’t in her room, or in the casinos, restaurants, or bars, where was she?

  Maybe she had found a lover? Was lying in bed letting the roll of the sea rock her and some lucky man into easy sex?

  Well. It didn’t really matter. Pretty soon, he would have to leave. Too bad.

  His com rang. He pulled it from his belt and opened it. “Yes?”

  Missy said, “Have you seen Jackson? He’s supposed to be in Computer Operations and he’s not.”

  “Haven’t seen him,” Santos said. And wasn’t likely to, if Jackson saw him first. “You try his room?”

  “He’s not answering his phone, his pager, or knocks on the door.”

  “Maybe he’s in a bathroom throwing up? Boat’s moving some, and that Jackson, he’s got kind of a weak stomach. So I heard.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “Or maybe he’s getting himself a little pussy. I hear he likes that.”

  “Grow up, Roberto!” There was a short pause. “You’d better get going. The storm is getting worse, and you have to be on the Mainland.”

  “Don’t worry about me, I’m not gonna disappear like Jackson.”

  He flipped the phone shut, tapped it against his other palm, then stuck it back on his belt. That was odd, that Keller wasn’t around. He lived for his computers. Maybe before he took off, he should check Keller’s cabin, make sure he hadn’t had a heart attack or something.

  * * *

  Toni listened, astounded by the scope of the planned attack on the Internet. Keller, once he got started, was babbling like a man stoked on amphetamines, talking so fast he kept running out of air and had to suck more in big gasps.

  Hacks. EMP devices. Men with guns and cable cutters. This was major. She was going to have to call Alex with this, it was too big to risk letting it get started. People were poised to do all this in a few hours, and authorities around the U.S., around the world, had to know.

  Keller knew some of it, but not all. They needed to get the locations for attacks on the hardware, so they could stop them. Undoubtedly those were in the computers. Could Keller access those plans from here?

  Yes, he could. He had his flatscreen. He could download those files. Would she like him to do it?

  Toni smiled. This would justify her staying here! “Do it,” she said.

  It didn’t take that long. When he was done, he burned the download into a mini-DVD and ejected it from the machine. “Here it is,” he said.

  Toni took it. She would call Alex, right now. If he wasn’t on the way, this would be important enough to scramble a military copter and get help here. Toni said, “You did good, Jackson. Now just sit there for a minute while I make a call.”

  As she reached for the phone, somebody knocked on the cabin’s door. No, not knocked, pounded on it, as if they were trying to punch a hole in it.

  “Jackson! You in there, boy? Open up!”


  Santos!

  “No! No! Go away!” Keller yelled, before Toni could stop him.

  Uh-oh. They were in trouble now—

  * * *

  Chance felt like a caged beast. She paced back and forth in her office. Where was Keller? Where was Santos? Why hadn’t he left yet? Neither man was absolutely necessary at this point — the plan would go with or without them — but the lack of either would cripple things more than a little. Dammit! What was happening here?

  In the Air

  It was dark, the wind rocked the copter like a leaf blown by the winds of fate, and the rain was coming down pretty steady. Not a great night to be flying way the hell out over the ocean.

  “There it is,” Howard said.

  Michaels looked through the window. A smear of bright light shined through the darkness. The helicopter barge. Past that, at least half a mile or so, he’d guess, was the gambling ship, also lit up like a Christmas tree.

  Fernandez lurched back from the front of the copter, holding onto the seats as he came down the aisle, just barely able to stay on his feet. He got to them, sat, buckled up. “Landing is gonna be tricky,” he said. “Our pilot wants to let the captain do it, it’s his bird, he knows her better. The barge is rocking some, and their flight control doesn’t really want to let us try it, but we have insisted — too dangerous to fly back, the captain said. They said we’re gonna have to ride the storm out tied to the deck, ’cause they ain’t running the transport boats, it’s pretty choppy out there.”

  “It’s a little far to be swimming in this weather, isn’t it?” Michaels said.

  Howard grinned. “Oh, I’m sure we can convince them to let us use the shuttle boat, if we ask real politely.”

  The copter dropped lower, spiraling in toward the landing barge. The deck didn’t look very big from here. Kind of like a postage stamp.

  Michaels leaned back from the rain-streaked window. The helicopter bounced and jerked to the left, then back to the right, and caught another wind shear that dropped them like a stone so suddenly that his stomach tried to climb up into his mouth. Behind him, he heard somebody vomiting. Into a puke bag, he hoped.

  “Hang on, folks,” the captain said. “We’re going in.”

  36

  On the Bon Chance

  Toni had, she figured, about two seconds before Santos came through the door, either by using a keycard or by kicking it down. He knew Keller was in here, no question.

  But Keller was a quivering lump on the bed, curled now into a fetal position, hands over his face.

  She had to get this information to Alex. And she didn’t want to go one-on-one with Santos, not in a space as cramped as this cabin. Maybe she could take him. Maybe not. He was big, strong, fit, and trained, and she couldn’t risk losing the data she had gotten from Keller. What to do?

  The moment of panic flared, but then her brain started working. She realized that Santos didn’t know who she was, or what she was doing in Keller’s cabin. She could play that, but she’d have to do it fast.

  She grabbed her shirt, pulled it off, then peeled off her sports bra. She held them in one hand, loosely covered her breasts, and hurried to the door.

  Santos was having trouble getting the keycard override to work. He kept dragging it through the slot, but the little light stayed red. He was about to kick the door when it opened.

  A half-naked woman stood there.

  The secretary!? She was here with Keller!?

  What god had he pissed off that this man, this picaflor, was sleeping with two of his women? That was it. He was gonna kill the guy.

  “Roberto? What are you doing here?”

  “I need to talk to Keller. He’s supposed to be working. But I guess I can see why not. No wonder I couldn’t find you.”

  “He’s putting his clothes on,” she said. “In there.”

  “Yeah, well, you wait right here. I got something for you.” He cupped his groin, hefted it. “Bigger and harder than anything Keller has.”

  She smiled at him. Moved her hand with the shirt in it out of the way and took a deep breath.

  Ah. Nice mambas.

  Oh, yeah, this would have to be quick, but he could do that. Get Keller out of here, pronto, and get back to her. Leave Missy with a little something to think about — he’d make sure Keller told her about it.

  He was already halfway ready as he moved past her through the short hall toward the bedroom.

  * * *

  Toni ran. She sprinted as if she were trying out for the Olympic hundred-meter dash team. She passed a couple in the hall, saw the man grin at her. Well, a half-naked woman running down the hall was probably not something they saw every day. She didn’t have time to stop and dress. By the time Santos realized something was wrong, she wanted to be far away. She had to find another hiding place, fast.

  * * *

  The rain slashed down like a first-class hotel shower with good water pressure, and the blue-and-white-striped canvas roof on the shuttle boat didn’t do much to keep the people under it dry.

  Michaels was soaked by the time he got on the craft, as were the other “tourists.” The rain came in almost horizontally when the wind gusted. The spider silk vest he wore under his shirt didn’t help anything.

  Next to him, Howard yelled, “I’ve left the pilots watching the crews of the two birds and two other troopers guarding the barge crew. They just developed serious radio and com trouble.”

  The way the boat was bobbing up and down, pitching and yawing, the helicopter crews were the least of Michaels’s worries. There was enough light here to see the whitecaps and foam blown from the waves. He tasted salt then yelled, “Nice night for a boat ride!”

  Whichever trooper was operating the engine cranked it up, and the shuttle, built to hold sixty people and only half full, moved away from its moorings against the barge. The motion got worse. Anybody who was prone to sea-sickness was going to be giving up everything they’d eaten for a month. Fortunately, that wasn’t one of Michaels’s afflictions.

  The boat rocked and shook, pitched dangerously, but with its back finally turned to the wind, straightened out a little. It was still a long way to the ship.

  As the boat slogged through the four-foot seas, Michaels’s virgil buzzed against his hip. He’d left it on vibratory mode. Good, since he’d never have heard it in this wind and rain. He grabbed the unit. The caller number ID didn’t mean anything, and the little screen was blank, no visual. He held it to his ear so he could hear better.

  “Hello?”

  “Alex, it’s me.”

  Toni!

  “Babe, what—?”

  “Where are you?” she cut in.

  “On a boat heading for the ship,” he said. “We’ll be there in five minutes.”

  “Thank God. Listen, I’m on a public phone. Jay was right, about everything. The balloon goes up tomorrow. I’ve got all the details. I’ll call again later, but right now, I’ve got to go. I love you.”

  She discommed.

  A malignant worm roiled in his gut.

  “What?” Howard said.

  “Toni. She’s in some kind of trouble. Enough to risk calling on an open line. She says she’s got the evidence we need.”

  “My God,” Howard said.

  “Hurry this thing up,” Michaels said.

  Howard made a hand signal. The boat’s engine roared louder, but it didn’t seem to move any faster.

  * * *

  Santos couldn’t figure it out for a second when he saw Keller lying on the bed. What, had she screwed him stupid? He was just lying there, no shirt, in his pants, curled up in a ball. Was he afraid Santos was going to beat him again?

  “Keller. Keller!”

  The man whimpered. “Don’t! I didn’t mean to!”

  Santos strode to the bed, reached down, and grabbed Keller by the hair, jerking him up. “What are you whining about?”

  “I didn’t mean to!” he said. “She beat me. She made me tell her!”
<
br />   Santos turned to look behind him. “Tell her what?”

  “About Omega!”

  Santos let go of Keller’s hair and slapped him with his free hand, but only once, then ran back to where he had left the woman.

  She was gone, of course.

  He looked out into the hall. No sign of her.

  Santos pulled his com from his belt and thumbed the emergency button. “This is Santos,” he said, when security answered. “There’s a woman on board, short, black hair, maybe twenty-eight, thirty, calls herself ‘Mary Johnson. ’ Dressed in jeans, running shoes, a black T-shirt. Find her. Find her now!”

  * * *

  The officer at the boat moorage was amazed. He looked at the boat with its drenched tourists. “You must be crazy to come across in weather like this! Somebody’s head is gonna roll!” He looked at the boat’s pilot. “And who the hell are you? Where is Marty? This is his shift.”

  The pilot grinned and shoved his Walther pistol into the officer’s belly. “Marty got sick. If you behave yourself, you won’t catch what he’s got.”

  The officer froze; his face went white under his rain hat.

  “Let’s move it, people!” Fernandez said.

  Michaels was first up the ladder.

  * * *

  Toni had solved the problem of where to hide by running past doors until she found one that was open. She slipped into a passenger cabin, saw a maid cleaning the room, and stepped into the bathroom before the woman got a good look at her.

  In Spanish, Toni said, “Hey, you can leave that,” she called out. “Come back later please, okay?”

  The maid said, “Esta bien, Senñora,” and left.

  Once the maid was gone, Toni checked out the cabin. No computer, so she couldn’t try to upload the disc into a Net Force receptacle, or even some friend’s mailbox. Damn!

  She couldn’t stay here long, she knew. Santos would have put out an alarm by now. If somebody asked the maid if she’d seen a norte americana, maybe Toni’s speaking Spanish would throw them off. Maybe not. But the ship was rigged with surveillance cams all over, and she didn’t want to let one of those see her. Alex had said he’d be here in a few minutes. If they were about to start some kind of operation, all she had to do was stay hidden until it was done.