by Dale Brown
cannula in place to feed her oxygen. Many of the bandages had
also been removed, and the bums on her face and neck looked
markedly better. Wendy's mother had even brushed out her hair.
"She looks better to me," McLanahan said. The doctor made
no comment. "Why isn't she on a respirators If you say her
respiratory system can collapse, why can't she be on life-
support ... ?"
"We can keep her alive indefinitely, Colonel, but is that what
you really want?
"Yes. I I
"Think of the pain you'd be subjecting her family to-"
"I'm her family too." He ignored the faces around her bed-
side. "Stop trying to spare us pain and help her, dammit. Right
now." The doctor nodded, put his hand on McLanahan's shoul-
der and turned away. The relatives and friends turned away;
some filed out of the intensive care ward, not looking at him or
saying anything. A few minutes later he felt a hand on his shoul-
der. Hal Briggs was standing beside him. "Man, I came as soon
as I could . . . "
"Thanks for coming, Hal. I appreciate it. Is the general
here? "
"He's still . . . away," Hal said. McLanahan knew that meant
the Cayman Islands, as leader of the air cordon around Nicara-
gua. "There's DOD investigators all over the Center, and they
have authority to go any damn place they want. I got sick of
them and took off. "
"I'm really glad you guys are here," he said to both Powell
and Briggs. He noticed Briggs wearing his earpiece transceiver.
He was also armed, his ever-present Uzi submachine pistol on
his waist. Hal nodded, then motioned his eyes off toward the
DAY OF THE CHEETAH 437
door, and all three men walked outside and found an isolated
area in the hallway.
"How is she?"
"The doctor says she's worse. Who the hell knows? What's
going on, Hal?"
" might have to return to Puerto 1,empira right away,"
Briggs said. "They made a deal with the Russians. They're go-
ing to turn DreamStar over to us-maybe tomorrow morning.
They say it's flyable, so the general wants , Dr. Carmichael
and Master Sergeant Butler to go out to Puerto Cabezas and
inspect her. might be able to fly the thing back to Dream-
land.
"That's good, real good ... What about Ken James?"
"You mean Colonel Andrei Maraklov. The Russians say the
guy really is a KGB agent," Briggs said. "Do you believe it?
We had a damned KGB agent in Dreamland for almost two whole
years - Heads are gonna roll for that-mine in particular."
At the mention of James' real Russian name, the old fury
came back. "What's supposed to happen to him?"
"The White House says he's on his way back to Russia,"
Briggs said. "The next time we see him will probably be on the
podium beside the head man at the Great October military pa-
rade. "
Briggs suddenly touched the earphone. "Briggs. Go ahead."
The earpiece acted as a microphone as well as a speaker, picking
up sinus- and. osteo-vibrations and transmitting them like a con-
ventional radio system. Briggs listened for a few moments, then,
replied, "Copy"'all. Briggs out." He turned to McLanahan.
"Word's ip/,'tolonel- The plane's been sealed off in a concrete
shelter on 'Puerto Cabezas airfield. Tomorrow morning at Six A.,
we've been cleared to fly no more than four more people in to
inspect DrearnStar-that means Carmichael, Butler, and
myself. If we can fly it out, they'll let us. If we can't, we'll be
able to sail a barge into the docks at Puerto Cabezas and ship it
out. The general wants back immediately. I've got to get
his gear together back at Dreamland. "
McLanahan glanced down the hallway and saw Wendy's doc-
tor and several nurses and technicians wheeling a large machine
into Wendy's ICU ward at a run. "Wait here," he said, and ran
down the hallway and followed the doctor back into the ward.
When he entered the room a low, high-speed electronic beep-
438 DALE BROWN
ing was coming from Wendy's body-monitor. The relatives were
crowded around her bedside, blocking the doctors and techni-
cians from reaching her. The minister was kneeling beside
her . . .
"Get away ftom her, " McLanahan shouted and pushed his
way through the knot of people. The doctor, after seemingly
being paralyzed by the scene, rushed over to the monitor. "What
the hell are you doing? Get away from her and let the doctors
through . . . "
"Respiratory arrhythinia," McLanahan heard the doctor say
to one of the technicians, "but I've still got a heartbeat. She's
hanging in there. Put her on the respirator and take her to the
CDV lab." They began to insert the tracheal tube in her throat
and worked to reinflate her lungs.
McLanahan pushed the minister aside and stood beside the
doctor. "Can you help her?"
"I don't know, dimmit. " He was watching as the technicians
quickly transferred the body-function leads from the wall unit to
the portable device. "Her respiratory system has shut down."
He pointed to an electronic electrocardiogram readout on the
portable respirator. "But that could be her saving grace. Strong
as a horse. There may still be time. " He turned to the people
surrounding the bed as a gumey was wheeled into the room.
"All right, please move aside, everyone. " Wendy was trans-
ferred to the gumey, and the hospital technicians rushed out.
McLanahan saw Wendy's parents staring at him as if he was
crazy. "Wendy will be all right," he told them.
I, Why are you doing this, Patrick?" Betty Tork said in a low
voice.
I'I'm doing this because I want Wendy to live. You're all
waiting for her to die. I'm sick of it. I'm sick of you. " He
turned, pushed past the relatives still packing the small room
and hurried out.
He was met by Powell and Briggs in the hallway. "I'm going
with back to Honduras," he told them. The two officers
stared at him. "We'll fly back in Cheetah. Hal, go back and get
's flight gear and Carmichael and Butler and meet us in
Puerto Lempira. "
said gently, "Do you think you should?"
"Wendy's back on a respirator. I think she's going to make
DAY OF THE CHEETAH 439
it. I believe she's going to pull out of it. I've got to be there
when we get DreamStar . . . "
"Man, are you sure you're all right?" Briggs asked. "Maybe
you should stop and think about this . . . "
" Listen, I've got to do it this way. The more I stay around
this place the more I feel like I'm on a death watch. I won't do
that. I got to believe she's going to make it. Now let's get going.
Until DreamStar is out of Nicaragua I won't stop. And I want
Cheetah there in case something goes wrong . . . "
"Nothing can go wrong," Briggs said. "Maraklov is on his
way to Russia. He's the only one that could fly DreaniStar. They
can blow DreamStar up, destroy it or disable it, but either way
we've at least kept the Russians from getting their hands on it.
We've won, man."
"Not yet, we haven't. As long as Wendy's fighting, I'm fight-
ing too. And I can't fight wringing my hands in this place. Let's
get the hell out of here."
Sebaco, Nkaragua
Sunday, 21 June 1996, 2141 CDT (2241 EDT)
Out of some one hundred troops originally stationed at Sebaco,
fewer than twenty were still there, all pressed into service in
cleaning up and preparing the base for rebuilding. Since there
were no aircraft at Sebaco, security had been cut back to only a
couple of guards roving the base. With workers on the job from
twelve to sixteen hours a day, the base was practically deserted
by nine P.
It would be that much easier to get away from Sebaco. Mar-
aklov had decided on a plan nobody would expect, he hoped-
return to Puerto Cabezas and try to steal DreamStar again.
Earlier that day he had taken a military sedan that had a full
tank of gas and hidden it, keeping the keys. It was less than two
hundred miles to Puerto Cabezas, but the first one-third was on
mountainous gravel roads, which were dangerous enough when
driven by day-he would have to make the drive in the middle
of the night. The first fifty miles would take at least two hours,
maybe more. The rest would be easier-he could make the trip
in five hours, maybe a little less. According to KGB director
440 DALE BROWN
Kalinin, the Americans would be at Puerto Cabezas to get
DreamStar shortly after dawn. He had to be there ahead of them -
There were only two things left to do: get back his metallic
flight suit and helmet from Lieutenant Musi Zaykov, who was
holding the equipment in preparation for sending it back with
him to Moscow, and-what would be the hardest of all-subdue,
or eliminate, Musi herself. She was scheduled to drive him
to Managua at Six A. the next morning and put him on a
nine A. Aeroflot flight to Moscow. If he could keep Musi quiet,
maybe tie her up and hide her in the jungle where she'd even-
tually be found, they would think they had left for Sandino In-
ternational Airport as scheduled. They wouldn't know until the
Aeroflot's departure time of nine A. that they never showed
up-and by then he would be airborne once more in DreamStar.
That evening he dressed in a dark flight suit and spit-shined
boots-into which he slipped a large hunting knife in a leather
sheath-and left his room; he had, of course, already deactivated
the surveillance camera set up in his room, and he was sure it
had not been reactivated since the attack. He slipped outside
through a back window, retrieved the sedan and drove it over to
Musi's barracks several buildings away-being an officer as well
as one of the few women on the base, Musi had a cabin to
herself.
He stopped the engine a few dozen yards from her cabin and
coasted to a stop several yards from the back door. He consid-
ered trying to sneak into the cabin, but Zaykov would probably
shoot him as an intruder. Instead he simply went to the front
door and knocked.
"Kto tam?
"Andrei.
A slight pause, then, in a light, excited voice, Musi replied
in English, "Come in, Andrei."
She was standing in the middle of her small living room,
wearing a T-shirt that outlined her breasts, a pair of tropical-
weight shorts and French-made tennis shoes. She came over to
him and kissed him lightly on the right cheek. "Come in, An-
drei.- She tugged him into the living room and around toward
the'sofa. "Please, sit down. How do you feel?"
"Physically, great, emotionally, lousy . . . I can't befieve
we're just going to give up Dreanl$tar. After all that's hap-
pened.
DAY OF THE CHEETAH 441
"Orders are orders, I suppose," she said, curling up like some
exotic cat on the loveseat beside the sofa. "There's nothing any
of us can do."
"Doesn't make me feel better."
"No, but we are both soldiers," she said. "Never mind, won't
you be glad to get back home? It's been so long since you have
been there . . ."
Maraklov had to work at his reaction. "Sure, but it would be
better if you were going with me."
"I will join you in Moscow before'long, " she said. "We will
see each other very soon." She motioned to a small bar in the
comer behind Maraklov. "Fix us some drinks? I think I have
something interesting in there."
He got up, found ice and glasses, then started checking out
her stock. He picked up one especially fancy bottle. "Well, look
at this! Glenkinchie single malt Scotch whiskey ... I never
expected to see this in this godforsaken place."
"You can try some of that," Musi said. "It is very special.
It is my favorite. " As he dropped ice cubes into a couple of
glasses she added, "It was Janet's favorite, too."
"Who? "
"Janet. Janet Larson. Her real name was Katrina Litkovka-
the woman you murdered eleven years ago."
He froze, then, willing his muscles to move, turned around.
Musi Zaykov was standing in the center of the room holding a
silenced nine-millimeter automatic pistol in her right hand. Her
seductive smile had vanished, leaving a stone-cold murderous
glare.
"What in hell is going on, Musi? " He put the glass down on
the bar but kept the Scotch bottle in his left hand, sliding it down
his leg to hide it as best he could. "Put that thing down."
"You are under arrest, Colonel Maraklov, " Zaykov said, "for
the act of murder."
"What are you talking about? Is this some kind of sick joke?"
Loosen up, he told himself. Find out what she knows and use
the time to figure out something . . . He forced himself to put
on a broad smile. "What's gong on, Musi? Put that thing away.
Are you crazy? I'm no threat to you-"
"Stay where you are. " She reached into her jacket pocket and
took out a sheet of paper. "A copy of a message transmitted to
A
442 DALE BROWN
you from Moscow, directing you to go to Puerto Cabezas and
steal the DrearnStar aircraft. What is this about?"
"Just what it says, Musi. I've been ordered to steal the damn
thing again and fly it to a secret base in Costa Rica. " As he said
it he took the opportunity to take a half-step toward her. "They
figured I did such a good job the first time, they wanted to see
if I could do it again."
"If that was meant to be humorous, Andrei, you failed,"
Za kov said. "My last orders from General Tret'yak were to see
y
to it that you are confined to the base until morning.
"Well, I have orders too, Musi. Given to me by Vladimir
Kalinin. I'm sure you have ways of confirming that. I don't have
much time to waste."
"I must check this with General Tret'yak. If what ou say
y
is true, this contradicts previous orders. Orders must be veri-
fied-
<
br /> "There's no damn time to verify anything. DreamStar will be
gone in ten hours, maybe less."
" m And you had to come here to get your flight suit and hel-
et," Zaykov said. "Then you had to do one more thing-kill
me. You could not make it appear that we had gone to Managua
as scheduled unless I was out of your way." `
"I wasn't going to kill you. I could never do that. I'm much
too fond of you . . . you know that . . . " He searched her face,
found little softening in it. "You can help me, Musi. You can
get a helicopter to take me to Puerto Cabezas-"
"I can't do that. Even if these orders were fully authorized I
would not do it. "
Something else was wrong. "Musi, what is it?"
She let the first letter drop to the floor, then drew another one
from her jacket. "Some research I did when you left Sebaco for
Puerto Cabezas . . . The morning after your attempt to fly to
Cuba you were delirious from dehydration. You called out a
woman's name-Janet. "
"Janet? You mentioned that name moments ago. I don't know
a Janet."
-You did know a Janet, Andrei-or should I say, Kenneth
ames. I knew a Janet too. Janet Larson. We were good friends
back at the Connecticut Academy."
Now the words hit Maraklov like a baseball bat against his
skull. He had forgotten the name the minute he left the Soviet
DAY OF THE CHEETAH 443
Union for Hawaii all those years ago. The delirium caused by
the ANTARES interface somehow had unearthed it-unfortu-
nately, in the presence of another Connecticut Academy gradu-
ate who knew her.
"Yes, I knew Janet ... Janet Larson. What has she got to do
with my orders?"
"Perhaps nothing-perhaps everything," Zaykov said - "Janet
Larson-Katrina Litkovka-was found dead in a car crash. They
say she had been drinking, that her car went off the road. But
Katrina was fond of having affairs with many of the students at
the Academy. You were one of them." She paused, then said,
"I was one of them too."
"You and Larson were lovers?"
"Those of us in courtesan training at the Academy were taught
to . . . to please women as well as men," she said. "It was all