“Someday. If the right person came along.”
“But you didn’t with Karen.”
“That was a few years ago. A lot’s happened since then.”
Jess gave his leg a squeeze and remained unusually silent. He didn’t know what that meant, and this wasn’t the time to delve into it further. They had reached the hangar.
Tyler and Jess got out of the cart and walked to the door. He tried the handle, but it was locked. He knocked and after a few moments heard the rhythmic squeak of rubber soles on a polished concrete floor. The footsteps stopped on the other side of the door.
“Yes?”
“I need to speak to someone in charge,” Tyler said.
“What is this about? We’re very busy.”
Tyler was about to respond, then stopped himself. The voice. He’d heard it just yesterday.
Zotkin.
He and Colchev were inside. With less than thirty minutes before the launch, Tyler and Jess could go back with this definitive proof and get the entire police force to surround the hangar.
“Oh. I guess we can come back later.”
But with that response, Zotkin must have recognized Tyler’s voice, too. The door flew open.
Zotkin took aim with a pistol, but Tyler barreled forward before he could fire, knocking Zotkin backward. He kneed the Russian in the groin, then elbowed him in the side of the head. Zotkin went down before he knew what had happened.
Tyler took his weapon and gave it to Jess. He yanked Zotkin to his feet and drew his own Glock, pressing it against the man’s temple.
“Move,” Tyler said, pushing him forward, one hand clenching his collar.
They turned the corner and saw six men lying against the hangar door, all of them bound and gagged.
“Put your gun down,” came a voice from behind him.
Tyler whirled around. Colchev was hunched over an open container holding the Killswitch.
His finger lay on the red arming button.
“I’ve set this timer to zero, Dr. Locke,” Colchev said. “Put your gun down or I push this button and a hundred thousand people die.”
FIFTY-THREE
Despite Morgan’s arguments, the flight director wouldn’t call off the launch. He said that the company had everything riding on this demonstration to secure more investment funding, and without a direct court order, the flight was going forward. With no official identification, her speculation about a stolen weapon being snuck onto the spaceplane sounded like the ravings of a lunatic, even with Grant there to corroborate her story. She would have threatened him at gunpoint if she thought it would change the man’s mind, but she knew that would just divert attention to the control center, leaving the spaceplane unguarded.
They exited the trailer and resorted to their only option. Sitting on a bench near the spaceplane, they used the infrared goggles to scan the crowd. Bystanders would think they were using high-tech binoculars to watch the airplanes.
“Do you think these guys will still be tagged?” Grant said.
“The ID dust is persistent,” Morgan said. “The ones who escaped in San Diego will still have some of it on them.”
Grant sighed dramatically. “Ah, San Diego.”
“Oh, my God. You’re not going to get all mushy about what happened, are you? You were just there at the right time.”
“Mushy? Hell no. Can’t a guy reminisce about a fun afternoon?”
“Good. Because that’s all it was.”
“Fine with me.”
They scanned for a few more minutes before Grant said, “But just for the record, I wouldn’t mind having another afternoon like it.”
Morgan smiled. “Maybe we’ll find the right time again.”
“I know a great hotel in Chicago. When this is over …” Suddenly Grant went quiet and tensed up. “There’s one of them. Twenty yards away.” He was pointing at a man with a rounded face and dark hair wearing a grey T- shirt and jeans. He must have just come from behind the trailer housing the control center. She put the goggles up and saw the man covered with red crosshairs.
“How do you want to take him?” Grant said.
“I’ll approach from the front and distract him while you sneak up behind him.”
“You mean like this?” a voice behind them said. Morgan felt the barrel of a gun jammed into her back. “Move and you die.”
The man they’d been observing strode toward them, a pistol tucked underneath the event program in his hand. He cautiously pulled the pistol from her waistband, then took Grant’s.
The guy behind them leaned closer to her. “You should have picked a partner who’s less conspicuous than Mr. Westfield. I spotted him the moment you walked into that mobile control trailer.”
He removed her goggles and used them to look at his cohort.
“The intelligence was correct. They did develop ID dust. I told you that’s how they knew we were in the house in Tijuana.” He lowered the goggles and put them in the pocket of his cargo pants.
“Where’s Colchev?” Morgan said.
“Nearby. We’ll take you to see him. Get up slowly.”
She and Grant both stood. She could now see that the men had silencers on their SIG Sauers. A jacket over the arm concealed the other man’s weapon.
“Now move.” They started walking, a pistol in each of their backs.
“We know what your plan is,” Grant said.
“So?”
“So I’m just letting you know it won’t work.”
“Why’s that?”
“We convinced the flight director to abort the launch.”
The Russian smiled. “If that were true, there would have been an announcement. Now keep walking or I’ll kill you right here.”
“That would ruin your plans, wouldn’t it?” Grant said. “A couple of gunshots would bring a lot of attention out here. Might even stop the flight.”
“That’s a risk we’re willing to take. Are you?”
Grant glanced at Morgan, and she shook her head. With the constant noise, two silenced gunshots might be mistaken for a backfiring aircraft engine.
As they walked, the Russians had to stay right behind them to keep their weapons concealed. The close range was a double-edged sword. The Russians couldn’t miss if they got shots off, but it also meant that Morgan had a chance to disarm one of them. All she needed was the proper distraction.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Does that matter?” Grant said, glaring at her. At first she thought he was genuinely angry with her, but then she saw the slightest widening of his eyes.
He was trying to give her a distraction. She played along.
“Well, I wouldn’t ask,” she said, “except that we got caught so easily because of you.”
“Oh, this is my fault now?”
“I knew I shouldn’t have brought you with me. You’ve been nothing but a pain in the ass since I met you.”
“And since I met you, you’ve been nothing but a raging bitch!”
