'…System reboot is complete…' 'Status?' Caesar Russell asked.
Ten minutes previously, during Caesar's second BBS broadcast, the entire complex had experienced an abrupt power shutdown, causing all its interior systems to switch off.
'…Confirm: main power supply has been cut,' one of the radio operators said. 'We're running on auxiliary power now. All systems operational.'
'…We lost that enhanced satellite image of the EEV that was coming through. Renewing contact with the satellite now…'
Another operator: 'Copy that. Main power supply was switched off at the Level 1 junction box at exactly 0800 hours, by operator 008-72…'
'8-72?' Caesar frowned, thinking.
'…Sir, we have no visual feed. All cameras went down with the cutting of the main power supply…'
Caesar's eyes narrowed. 'All units, report in.'
'…This is Alpha,' Kurt Logan's voice said. 'Initiate frequency swap. Possibility that enemy has obtained some of our radio equipment…'
'…Frequency swap complete,' the senior operator said. 'Go ahead, Alpha Leader…'
'…We are in the Level 2 hangar bay. Heading for the personnel elevator for rendezvous up in the main hangar. Report six dead…'
'…This is Bravo Leader, we're up in the main hangar, covering the Football. All men present and accounted for. No casualties…'
'…This is Charlie Leader. We are moving in tandem with Echo through the common worn area on Level 3. We have one dead, two wounded from that AWACS shit before. Understand targets were last sighted on Level 4. Preparing for joint assault through floor-to-ceiling hatches between 3 and 4. Please advise…'
'…Charlie, Echo, this is Control. We have lost all visual contact on the Level 4 lab area…'
'Engage at will, Charlie and Echo,' Caesar Russell cut in sharply. 'Keep them moving. They can't run forever.'
'…This is Delta. We are still on 5. No casualties. By the time we broke down that door on 5, the targets had already gone up the ramp to Level 4. Be advised, there is substantial flooding in the Level 5 confinement area. Awaiting instructions…'
'…Delta, this is Caesar,' Russell said coolly, 'head back down to Level 6. Cover the X-rail exits.'
'…Affirmative, that, sir…'
Twenty black-clad 7th squadron commandos hurried down one of the corridors of the Level 3 living area, their boots thundering on the floor — the men of Charlie and Echo Units.
They came to a pressure-sealed manhole in the carpet. A code was entered and the circular hatch came free with a sharp hiss, revealing a crawl space between the floor of Level 3 and the ceiling of Level 4. Another pressure hatch lay directly beneath this one — the entry to Level 4.
One of the commandos lowered himself through the manhole.
'Control, this is Charlie Leader,' Python Willis said into his headset mike. 'We are at the manhole leading to the observation lab on Level 4. Preparing to storm the floor from above.'
'Do it!' Caesar's voice replied.
Python nodded to his man in the crawl space. The commando released the pressure valve and let the hatch drop to the floor ten feet below him. Then he jumped down to the ground after it, three others close behind him, their P-90's aimed and ready.
Nothing.
The lab around them was empty.
There came a loud mechanical rumbling from within the walls.
The 7th Squadron men whirled around as one.
It was the sound of the hydraulic aircraft elevator platform.
The commandos of Charlie and Echo Units hurried down the short sloping walkway that ledfrom the observation lab to the aircraft elevator shaft.
They got there just in time to see the underside of the giant elevator platform rising up into the shaft above them, heading for the main hangar.
Python Willis spoke into his helmet mike. 'Control, this is Charlie Leader. They're going for the Football.'
The gigantic aircraft elevator groaned loudly as it lumbered up the wide concrete shaft.
It moved slowly, carrying the crumpled remains of the crashed AWACS plane on its back.
The plane lay tilted forward, like a wounded bird, its nose lower than its destroyed rear section, its broken wings splayed wide. The plane's rotodome — still intact — towered high above the whole sorry image.
The massive elevator rumbled up the greasy concrete shaft.
As it passed the open doorway to the level 1 hangar bay, however, three tiny figures quickly leapt off it, hustling into the underground hangar.
It was Mother and Brainiac and, puffing along behind them, Herbie Franklin.
They were heading for the central junction box that Franklin had said was located in the Level 1 hangar bay, to disable Area 7's camera system.
The hangar was deserted now, the 7th Squadron men long gone. The two stealth bombers and the lone SR- 71 Blackbird still stood silently in the cavernous space, like a trio of sleeping sentinels.
Mother checked her watch as she skirted the left-hand wall of the hangar.
8:20.
Ten minutes to get the President to the Football.
As she moved along the concrete wall, watchful for enemy soldiers, she saw a large box shaped compartment at the far end of it. The compartment's ten-foot-tall steel door was twisted and bent, partially destroyed.
'Oh, yeah,' she said.
'What?' Herbie asked from behind her.
'Our little run-in with the 7th Squadron up here earlier,' Mother said. 'They got a couple of Stingers off — one hit that compartment, the other punctured some water tanks inside the wall over by the personnel elevator.'
'Oh,' Herbie said.
'Let's see what's left,' Mother said.
Upstairs, the giant elevator platform rose slowly into the main hangar.
The remains of the AWACS plane appeared first, rising above the rim of the square-shaped shaft.
Then the exploded rear section of the fuselage…
…followed by the intact rotodome…
…then the snapped wings…
The rest of the battered plane rose slowly into view and then, with a loud boom! the platform came level with the hangar floor and stopped.
There was a long silence.
The ground-level hangar bore the scars of the battle that had taken place there nearly an hour and a half before.
Marine One — still attached to its towing vehicle — stood on the western side of the elevator platform, while its semi destroyed sister chopper, Nighthawk Two, and its cockroach stood on the northern side of the platform, over by the personnel elevator.
On the eastern side of the AWACS plane, however, stood something entirely new: a team of ten 7th Squadron commandos — Bravo Unit — positioned in between the elevator platform and the internal building, standing inside a semicircular barricade of wooden crates and Samsonite containers.
On a chair in the center of the barricade sat a familiar stainless-steel briefcase, folded open, revealing a series of red and green lights, a keypad, and a flat-glass analyzer plate.
The Football.
Captain Bruno 'Boa' McConnell — the gray-eyed leader of Bravo Unit — gazed at the crumpled AWACS plane suspiciously.
