They arrived at the top level of the tower. Juliet Janson lay slumped on a chair, a bandage over her bullet- wounded shoulder, alive but very pale.
Beside her lay the Football.
'So what did you want me to see?' Schofield asked Book.
'This,' Book II said, indicating one particular computer screen. It was flashing:
1005
*********WARNING*********
EMERGENCY PROTOCOL ACTIVATED.
IF YOU DO NOT ENTER AN AUTHORIZED LOCKDOWN EXTENSION OR TERMINATION CODE BY 1105 HOURS, FACILITY SELF-DESTRUCT SEQUENCE WILL BE ACTIVATED.
SELF DESTRUCT SEQUENCE DURATION: 10:00 MINUTES.
*********WARNING*********
Schofield looked at his watch.
It was 10:43.
Twenty-two minutes till the complex's thermonuclear self-destruct mechanism was set in motion.
And they'd had no word from Gant…
Shit.
'There's another thing,' Book II said. 'We've managed to get the generators back on line, but the power's still very low. We've been able to get a couple of systems back on, some light systems, a few communication lines and the internal broadcast system.'
'And…?'
'Have a look at this.'
Book II hit a switch, and one of the console monitors blinked to life.
On it, Schofield saw the image of the control room overlooking the main hangar.
And standing inside the heavily battered room, looking directly into the camera as he had done on several occasions earlier that morning, was Caesar Russell.
Russell grinned at the camera.
When he spoke, his voice boomed out from the tower's speakers.
'Greetings, Mr. President, people of America. I know it's a little early for my hourly update, but since, alas, it appears that my race has been run, I'm sure you won't mind an early commentary.
'My men are vanquished, my cause lost. I would commend the President and his brave bodyguards for their efforts, but such is not my way. I merely leave you all with one parting comment: this country can never be the same, after today…'
Then Caesar did something that made Schofield's blood completely freeze.
He pulled open the front of his combat fatigues, revealing his chest.
Schofield's jaw dropped. 'Oh no…'
There, on Russell's chest, was a long vertical scar, right over his heart — the scar of a man who had had heart surgery sometime in the past.
Caesar grinned, an evil, maniacal, completely insane grin.
'Cross my heart,' he said, 'and hope to die.'
'What?' the President said. 'I don't get it.'
Schofield was silent.
He got it.
He snatched a piece of paper from his pocket. It was the printout he'd gotten Brainiac to on the plane right at the very start of all this — when he'd needed to know if there really was a radio transmitter planted on the President's heart.
Schofield scanned the printout. It still had the circles Brainiac had drawn on it before.
He recalled Brainiac's earlier explanation. 'It's a standard rebounding signature. The satellite sends down a search signal — they're the tall spikes on the positive side — and then, soon after, the receiver on the ground, the President, bounces that signal back. Those are the deep spikes on the negative side.
'Search and return. Interference aside, the rebounding signature seems to repeat itself once every twenty- five seconds.'
'Interference aside…' Schofield said as he stared at the printout.
'Only there is no interference. There are two separate signals. The satellite needs to pick up two signals…' He grabbed a nearby pen and joined the four circles into two pairs.
'This graph indicates two distinct signal patterns,' Schofield said. 'The first and the third. And then the second and fourth.'
'What are you saying?' the President asked.
'What I'm saying, Mr. President, is that you're not the only man at this complex with a radio transmitter attached to his heart. It's Caesar's trump card, his last resort, so that even if he loses, he still wins. Caesar Russell has a transmitter attached to his heart. So now, if he dies, the devices at the airports go off.'
'But he's inside the complex,' Book II said, wincing with pain, 'and in exactly twenty minutes, the self- destruct sequence will be initiated.'
'I know,' Schofield said, 'and so does he. Which means I now have to do something that I never thought I'd ever want to do. I have to go back into Area 7 and stop Caesar Russell from getting killed.'
SEVENTH CONFRONTATION
Schofield re-armed himself.
With Book II and Juliet both wounded, he was going back inside alone.
He got his Maghook back from Book, slid it into the shotgun holster on his back. He also grabbed the P-90 that Seth Grimshaw had brought out of the complex. It only had about forty rounds left in it, but that was better than nothing. He jammed Book's M9 and his own Desert Eagle pistol into his thigh holsters. And last of all, he swapped his water damaged wrist mike and earpiece for Juliet's working unit.
Book and Juliet would remain up in the tower armed with a P-90, guarding the President, the Football and Kevin until the Army and Marine forces arrived at the base.
Schofield pulled out Nicholas Tate's cell phone, dialled the operator. He got Dave Fairfax's voice straight away, cutting into the call.
'Mr. Fairfax, I need a favor.'
'What?'
'I need the lockdown release codes for Special Area 7, the codes that turn off the self destruct mechanism. Now, I can't imagine they're kept in a book somewhere. You're going to have to get onto the local network itself and somehow pull them out.'
'How long have I got?' Fairfax asked.
'You've got exactly nineteen minutes.'
'I'm on it.'
Fairfax hung up.
Schofield jammed a fresh clip into his M9. As he did so, a figure appeared at his side.
'I think she's still alive, too,' Kevin said suddenly.
Schofield looked up, appraised the little boy for a moment 'How did you know I was thinking that?'
'I just know. I always know. I knew that Dr. Botha was lying to the Air Force men. And I could tell that you were a good man. I can't see exactly what someone's thinking, just what they're feeling. Right now, you're worried about someone, someone you care about. Someone who's still inside.'
'Is this how you knew it was me on the space shuttle?'
