“And what exactly is this?” she asked. “How is it better? The whole world put at risk so you could take the mixed-state matter away from us and give it to the Russians? That’s your solution? Hand the most powerful substance ever known to a nation that invades its neighbors, crushes any form of freedom or human rights and poisons its detractors with radioactive isotopes?”
As he stepped toward Emma he said, “You’re so focused on winning. You fail to see the forest for the trees. You fail to understand my position even as I shout it at you. All governments are evil. All power corrupts. Of course I’m not working for the Russians. Or for the Chinese. Or for the Americans.” His voice grew tighter and louder. “They, and you, are all working for me.”
The statement rang of such megalomania, she could hardly believe it had come from his mouth. “What are you talking about?”
She tried to step back but was frozen by the depth of hate in the eyes that bore deeply into hers. “I needed allies,” he said smugly. “I made them a deal. I would hack into the NSA’s system and divert the Nighthawk into their clutches if they would provide the means to collect it.”
“You’re the Falconer,” she said.
“I see you’ve heard the name.”
It made perfect sense now. She realized they’d played right into his hands. “You designed the automated computer system that operated the X-37 and we used it virtually unchanged in the Nighthawk. No wonder you were able to hack into it and redirect the aircraft. No wonder we never found a mole. You were operating remotely the whole time and we weren’t looking for a dead man.”
“Your mistake,” he said arrogantly. “One of many.”
“How’d you do it? How did you get past the encryption?”
He stepped so close to Emma, she could feel his hot breath. “NASA left a huge back door open to your project,” he said. “It was so easy to hack, I thought it might be a trap. I received data from every division like clockwork. I probably had more information about the program than any single person actually working on it. And when you decided to bring it back a week early because of the storm, I was literally the first to know.”
Their betrayal was complete. “But why? To what end?” She hesitated. “What’s the point of all this?”
He stared back at her, his eyes never blinking. She saw him now. The same man but changed, deranged by some mad desire. “Balance,” he said. “I gave the Russians a choice, I gave the Chinese a choice and now offer you the same one.”
“Which is?”
“To fight me,” he taunted. “Or to work for me. And, by extension, to work for the common heritage of mankind.”
She wasn’t sure where this was going, but it was not something to refuse out of hand. It might give her a chance to seek help. “I have no idea what you’re getting at.”
“It’s very simple,” he said, his voice teeming with vengeance. “I intend to undo what you and your nation have done. Obviously, I can’t give the mixed-state matter equally to all the world’s citizens or even to each nation or a large group of them. Few have the technological capability to handle it. One part to the Russians, one part to the Chinese, one part to your government and the rest to another group of my choosing.”
She could hardly believe what she was hearing. Was he serious? Her mind drifted back to the Beric she had known and some of his causes. Not only was he a pacifist like her but also an antinationalist, of sorts. He’d written an article he’d titled Duty of the Commons that argued ownership of anything by a nation-state was the cause of wars and strife. It tied in with what he was suggesting now. “You want us to share this?”
“Far better that than one country hoarding all of it,” he said.
“Who are you to make such a decision?”
Urco stepped back and smiled. “The only one who can,” he said smugly, “since I now control the entire stock.”
She struggled to process the situation. It was all too new. He was unstable, delusional and perhaps even certifiably insane, but he was also brilliant, devious and determined. And, at the moment, in an unquestionable position of control.
“Cooperating with you would be considered treason,” she explained.
“Better to live in prison than to die in a cataclysm.”
She looked away. She didn’t want this. Didn’t want to help him in any way. But no matter from what angle she approached it at, the answer was always the same: What choice did she have?
His plan sounded like madness, but even that was preferable to Armageddon. “How will I take our portion back to America? Will you let us fly it to Cajamarca?”
“No,” he said. “You will explain what is occurring to your friends and then you’ll drive in a vehicle that I possess.”
“How can I drive when the bridge is out?”
“There’s another route,” he said. “A shorter route that goes to the south and then through the pass. It avoids the highest of the mountains. It has its own steep cliffs, yes . . . but I trust you’ll drive with the requisite caution.”
She glanced to the north as the sound of a helicopter approaching became audible.
“That will be the Chinese agents,” he said. “I require your answer.”
She looked him in the eye once more. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll do as you ask. I have no other choice.”
49
The sound of the helicopter drifted across the open beach.
“Airborne tow truck to haul away our Nighthawk?” Paul suggested.
Joe scanned the horizon for the source of the clatter; he spied a black speck in the distance. “Not a heavy-lifter, by the sound of it. Something faster and more maneuverable.”
“Help maybe?”
“Even less likely,” Joe said. He could hear Urco’s men running around and making preparations. “But if it preoccupies our captors, I’ll take it.”
Joe considered whether this might be the moment to break free, but Emma’s return with two guards at her side quashed the idea.
“On your feet,” one of the guards said, waving a pistol.
Joe stood wearily. Paul did likewise.
The black speck continued to grow larger, and descend, as it came closer. It crossed the lake at two hundred feet and passed over the beach, whipping the tall grasses behind them into a swirling frenzy. It continued on, landing higher up on the plateau, several hundred feet away.
“Are we done standing at attention,” Paul asked, “or are we going to do something?”
Surprisingly, Emma replied, “Urco wants you and Joe to carry the containment units up to the plateau.”
“And if we go on strike?” Joe said.
“Please,” Emma said. “Just do as he asks.”
Joe could see the strain on her face. He also noticed that she stood behind the two guards, not in front of them. As if they were taking orders from her.
Reluctantly, Joe held out his hands. The man pulled a knife, slid it between Joe’s wrists and pulled upward. The zip tie broke with a sharp snap. So much for all his work weakening the plastic. No doubt, he’d have to start again.
Paul’s restraints were cut free as well and the two men followed Emma into the grass and up toward the Nighthawk. Urco’s men followed a few steps behind.
“You’ve earned their trust pretty quickly,” Joe whispered. “Tell me there’s a reason for that.”
“There is,” she said. “I’m doing whatever I can to avoid disaster.”
She went on to explain the situation as quickly as possible.
“You know it’s going to end badly,” Joe said.
“There are degrees of badly,” she said. “But it’s the lesser of two evils at this point.”
Joe understood her reasoning, but he wasn’t buying in. The lesser of all evils would be if they could escape, subdue or kill this madman and secure the mixed-state matter. A long shot, bu
t he still intended to pull it off.
They entered the clearing, rounded the nose of the Nighthawk and found Urco standing in front of the containment units.
He pointed to the first unit. “You two will carry that one up to the helicopter on the plateau. Ms. Townsend will carry the fuel cell. I trust you understand what happens if you drop it.”
“Don’t worry,” Joe said. “Though it might help us to keep our footing if you gave us our boots back.”
“Help you to escape, maybe?”
Joe shrugged. It was worth a try.
He and Paul were handed gloves. They set themselves on either end of the first containment unit and grabbed the handles. Joe could feel chilled air coming off the frosted pipes as soon as he got close to them.
“Ready,” Paul said.
“Up,” Joe replied.
They lifted simultaneously. The unit was hefty, but the weight was distributed evenly and the lifting bars were well positioned. They picked it off the ground with ease and were directed toward the freshly cut pathway.
Joe was at the front of the unit, walking backward and looking over his shoulder to see where he was going. Paul was at the back. Emma walked beside them, lugging the portable fuel cell and keeping the cords from getting tangled.
They arrived at the top of the path a minute later. Four of Urco’s men stood there waiting, surrounding the helicopter at various distances. Three held assault rifles, one held a shotgun.
Urco walked past them and began conversing with a petite woman. Even from a distance, Joe could see her physique was well muscled.
“That’s the woman who attacked us at La Jalca,” Emma whispered. “She said her name was Daiyu.”
Joe could see why she’d turned out to be such a handful.
After a nod from Urco, Daiyu walked over to inspect the containment unit. Like him, she had armed men at her disposal. One stood in the helicopter and two others were on the ground with her. They carried short-barreled submachine guns, held at the ready to spray everyone and anyone with a hail of lead.
“A hard bargain is being struck here,” Paul noted.
“So much for honor among thieves.”
“And this is what we’ve been after all this time?” Daiyu said, running a finger across the frost on the outer casing. “How am I to be sure there’s anything in this metal box?”
“You could open it up and look inside,” Urco suggested. “Though your brain cells will be vaporized before they process anything you might see.”
Daiyu cut her eyes at him. “My country does not play games.”
“I know more about your country than you might,” he said. “I know your orders from Zhang are to take possession of the containment units and leave the diamonds without confrontation. I receive fifty ounces of them now, and another fifty upon your scientists confirming that the antimatter is stored inside. If you want to haggle, we can do that, but every minute on the ground here increases all of our risks. So if you have an issue, state it; otherwise, take possession and close the deal or turn it down and leave.”
She glared back at him, the fury barely suppressed in her eyes. “If you’re lying, I will hunt you down personally.”
“You would never find me,” he said. “But, have no fear. You’re getting what you asked for. To make sure I get what I want, Vargas will travel with you.”
“Acceptable,” she said. “Have them load it up and bring the second unit. The sooner we get out of here, the better.”
Joe and Paul were urged forward. The pilot helped them lift the unit into the helicopter and then secured it to the floor. Emma made sure the fuel cell and the power cords were strapped down tightly.
That done, they moved off to collect the second unit and they carried it back at double speed.
Joe’s initial reaction to Emma’s cooperation hadn’t changed, but the sooner the Chinese agent and her gunmen left, the quicker he could get back to planning an escape. And by taking one of Urco’s most intimidating henchmen with them, the Chinese had unknowingly helped out.
With the second unit loaded aboard, the black helicopter powered up and took off. Even as it left, he and Paul were given a new order: loading another of the containment units into the back of an old Toyota Land Cruiser that Emma was slated to drive.
Emma strapped the unit and the fuel cell down tightly. “I’ll contact Urco as soon as the unit is safely airborne,” she said. “He’s promised to release you at that point.”
Joe knew that wouldn’t happen. And from the sound of her voice, Emma knew it, too.
“I’d say wear your seat belt,” Joe replied. “But I’m assuming you’ll be driving carefully.”
She offered a sad look, closed the door and waited as another of Urco’s men climbed in the passenger side to make sure she did as she was told.
Joe stepped back as the engine came to life. Still under guard, he and Paul watched as the old Land Cruiser moved off down the dirt road that led south.
Three of the eight containment units were gone, four remained in the Nighthawk and one sat in the clearing, awaiting another purchaser.
Perhaps more importantly, two of Urco’s men were gone. Two of the biggest and strongest.
As he and Paul were led back to the beach under guard, Joe glanced at the sun. It was falling toward the horizon now. The time to act was soon.
50
From her spot on the ridge, Gamay watched. Wearing high-desert camouflage, she had wrapped a tawny scarf around her head and neck to complete the disguise. She carried a modified Heckler & Koch G36 assault rifle. It had an extended barrel, a high-powered scope and two fold-out legs to steady it for long-range shooting.
This particular weapon had come from a target-shooting enthusiast they’d found in Cajamarca. It wasn’t a sniper’s rifle, but it was lightweight, accurate and the best they could procure on short notice.
Staring through the high-powered scope, she’d watched the helicopter’s arrival and departure; sighted the old Toyota, as it drove off to the south; and followed Paul and Joe, as they were marched back to the beach and placed under guard again.
Not long after that, a white Jeep Cherokee came rumbling down the path. It pulled off the road and several men climbed out of it. They wore blue flight suits. They spoke with Urco and were led over to the Air-Crane.
With each passing minute, Gamay felt the danger grow. Whatever Urco was up to, he would soon have no need for hostages.
She pulled back the sleeve of her camouflage jacket. Kurt had been silent a long time. Had he been anyone else, she’d have assumed he was drowned by now. Still, she couldn’t wait much longer.
“Come on, Kurt,” she whispered. “This is no time to be late.”
Having moved to a firing position, Gamay was more exposed, but she hadn’t seen the slightest sign of anyone looking for her.
Finally, the tiny speaker in the earbud came to life. “Gamay, this is Kurt.”
“Who else would it be,” she said. “Glad you didn’t drown. A lot has happened since you went on radio silence. By the look of it, Urco’s dispersing the mixed-state matter. Selling it off piece by piece. The Chinese landed and took off with two units. Emma drove out of here with another unit in the back of a Land Cruiser.”
“If this was about money, he could have named his price and any one of the three countries involved would have paid it. But instead he wants us all to pay—in blood.”
“What do you mean?”
“I found replicas of the fuel cells in a cave where Urco’s people were hiding. I also found a crate of Semtex that was several bricks short, but I couldn’t find a single detonator. That tells me the rest are already in place—most likely, in the fuel cells.”
“In the fuel cells,” she said. “But if he blows them up—”
“He gets a catastrophe,” Kurt said. “Which is exactly what he wants.
A catastrophe for the Americans, the Russians and the Chinese. Or, more likely, for the entire industrialized world.”
“What purpose could that possibly serve him?”
“Payback,” Kurt said. “For what the industrial powers did to the indigenous tribes of South America five hundred years ago. For what he feels they’re still doing today. By dispersing the mixed-state matter the way he is and then detonating it, he can strike a crushing blow to China, Europe, America and whoever else he blames for the fate of the native people. He can set industrialization back a thousand years in most of the world while his people are safe in their mountain pastures, living a technology-free life.”
Gamay listened as Kurt explained his theory. “The Chinese are already gone,” she said. “Emma’s out of sight as well.”
“We stop Urco first and get to them after.”
A flash of light caught Gamay’s eye. A dull whine reaching her on the wind.
She looked back through the scope. The two men in the blue flight suits were still in the Air-Crane. The rotors had begun to turn, moving slowly, reflecting the sunlight.
She could see that the cables leading to the Nighthawk had been reattached. The cargo bay had been sealed shut.
“You’d better hurry,” she said. “I think the Russians are about to take the rest in the Air-Crane.”
“I thought I heard it starting up,” Kurt said. “I’m on the move now. Wait for my signal and then drop the hammer. Get the men guarding Paul and Joe first. Once they’re down, fire at will. Take out everyone you can, but don’t risk hitting the Nighthawk. And, remember—I’m the guy in the black wet suit.”
51
Having finished his climb, Kurt moved across the upper part of the landing area of the plateau, darting from one patch of scrub foliage to another in quick, crouching movements.