Project Cyclops Part 77

"Willem or Hugo?" Vance loved them both and felt his heart turn.

"I don't know, but it looked like he's going to be all right. I decided not to stick around."

"So you don't know where they went? Pierre and the team."

"Haven't a clue."

Vance sighed. "Okay, the way I see it, we've only got one chance left.

But I have to get Bill to help."

"That's going to be next to impossible. They're still holding him in Command."

"Not any more. I think I saw him through the window there a couple of minutes ago." He pointed. "There in Launch."

"That's not a good sign." She sighed. "It could mean they may be getting ready to leave. And they're probably going to take him with them."

"Then we've got to break protocol. Get on the radio and try to locate Pierre."

12:15 A.M.

"Look, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d," the President was saying into the phone. "I've done everything you asked. I've deposited the money and pulled back all American forces for six hours. Now you're going to live up to your end of the agreement. You're going to disarm those weapons and get the h.e.l.l out of there. No hostages. I personally guarantee you safe pa.s.sage." If he'll believe that, Hansen was thinking, he's still writing letters to Santa.

"Who do you think you're talking to?" Ramirez asked. "There's a force on the island right now, that's got my people under fire. I no longer can take responsibility for anything that happens."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Hansen replied, genuinely puzzled. Had the Deltas countermanded his orders? Carried out a rogue operation? If so, there was going to be h.e.l.l to pay. "If there's somebody there, they're not part of the American armed forces. That's your problem, not mine."

"It is your problem. I want you to put a stop to it."

"How the h.e.l.l am I supposed to do that, exactly?" What can he be talking about? Hansen was still wondering. "If you can't handle your situation, then maybe you'd better go back to terrorist school. I've kept up my end."

Ramirez proceeded to tell the President two things. First, when the Sikorsky took off from the landing pad, Isaac Mannheim was going to be on board, a hostage. He was their insurance. That much was true. The second was a lie.

"The other thing you should know is that we have armed a nuclear device and secured it on the island. The detonation sequence is radio- controlled. If there is any interference with our egress, no matter at what point, we will not hesitate to detonate it."

"You do that," Hansen said, "and you'll be tracked to the ends of the earth. That's something I can guarantee you for absolute certain." He had visions of his presidency going down in ruins. And if the story of the money ever came out, the headlines . . .

"Then you also have the power to guarantee that it doesn't happen.

Think about it." With which cryptic farewell, the connection was severed, for the last time. The fact that a fifteen-kiloton nuclear bomb was about to obliterate Souda Bay, Crete, and the Sixth Fleet in a matter of minutes was not mentioned.

7:18 A.M.

"Ulysses to Sirene. Do you read me?"

When his radio crackled, Armont was in the medical facility of the Bates Motel, watching as a plasma IV was attached to Dimitri's arm. He immediately grabbed for it.

"I copy, Mike, but make this quick. Are you all right?"

"Never better. Where are you guys? Sorry to break radio silence, but I think Ramirez may be getting ready to pull out. Could be now or never."

"We took down Command," Armont said into his walkie- talkie.

"Neutralized four of the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds and cleared it. Looks to be a clean job as far as the friendlies are concerned. A minor miracle, considering. And when we got here to the Motel, there was a Greek, one of them, but we took care of him."

"Nice work."

'That's the good news. They're all here with us now, and they seem okay." He leaned out and took a peek down the hall. The SatCom systems engineers were all collapsed on the floor, drinking c.o.kes from the machine at the end. "There's bad news, too. In the first place, n.o.body there would shut off the countdown. They're just afraid to do it. Has to do with melting some kind of coil. The bird is still going up."

"What's the second place? The other bad news?"

"Dimitri got shot up. He's in pretty bad shape. We're in the emergency room now, just keeping him alive. We've got to evacuate him out of here and soon."

"I hear you," Vance replied back. "But the only way I know of right now is with one of the helos, either the Agusta or their Sikorsky. How long can he hold on? We still need to take out Ramirez. I haven't given up."

"Michael, the airs.p.a.ce is closed around the island. Totally shut down.

I guarantee it. There's no way he could get a chopper out. He's trapped, going nowhere. We're staying with Dimitri till we're sure he's stabilized, and then we'll come down there and handle that son of a b.i.t.c.h. All in time."

"All right," Vance said. "Take care of Dimitri. In the meantime, let me see what I can do at this end. And while you're there, you might want to sweep that place for explosives. I think they were planning to get everybody inside and blow it. I found some C-4 on a timer down on the second level. By the elevator. There may also be some more of them hanging around there, so be careful."

"Only way we know."

7:20 A.M.

Major General Eric Nichols was in the Kennedy's Mission Control room, fit to be tied. Now he was beginning to understand how the attempted rescue of the American emba.s.sy hostages in Tehran could have turned into such a disaster.

He lit a cigar and tried to relax. The op would be back on track in--he checked his watch--another five and a half hours. Unless, of course, the orders got changed again.

Then the blue phone on his desk rang. . . .

"Well, I'll be d.a.m.ned," he said, hanging up a few moments later. "I knew this was going to be a cl.u.s.ter-f.u.c.k, but I think we've just expanded the term." He looked over the Deltas waiting with him. "Would you believe it's back on? Something happened, who knows what. But the sons of b.i.t.c.hes are pulling out, and they've threatened to nuke the place if anybody tries to stop them. We're ordered to get in there before anybody can get off the ground, keep them from having the chance. I don't know if we're going to make it. He grinned. "But I'll tell you one thing. This time we're going to just take the place down once and for all. And the h.e.l.l with micromanaging from Fort f.u.c.k-up or anywhere."

"f.u.c.kin' A, S_ir_," Lieutenant Manny Jackson declared, reaching for his flight jacket. "I say we just do a standoff with h.e.l.lfire missiles.

Take out their d.a.m.ned s.p.a.ce vehicles and any choppers they've got. Then they can just stick their nukes up their a.s.s."

"Sorry, Jackson, but that's still our last resort. If we hit the vehicles, there's the risk of nuclear material getting loose. No, what we're going to do is take down their radar power source, the so-called Cyclops, and any choppers they have, which ought to put them out of business. And if that doesn't cause the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds to throw in the towel, then we'll call in a Tomcat and lay a couple of laser-guided missiles right into those underground bunkers."

Nichols had studied the satellite photo intelligence they had, as well as site plans and blueprints obtained from SatCom's executive offices in Arlington, and he knew exactly where a missile would have the best chance of penetrating Command and Launch Control. There might be some civilian casualties, but they sure as h.e.l.l wouldn't have the nukes in there. A quick, decisive operation.

"All right," he added in conclusion, "let's rock and roll. And this time there's going to be no recall, I don't care who tries."