Providence Memorial Hospital, followed by the burning remains of a destroyed car. Joseph turned up the volume, letting the news anchor fill them in.
“Witnesses reported hearing gunfire on the third floor of the hospital, followed by a loud explosion. One of the two men suspected to have caused the blast was killed at the scene, while the other fled, pursued by law- enforcement officers until he was driven off the road, where his car exploded. Police and fire crew are on the scene. Police are not releasing any further details at this time, but we expect a press conference to be called about this incident later this morning—”
“We had not received any calls from either man before their deaths, correct?” Sepehr asked.
“I’m afraid not.”
“Then we do not know if they were successful in completing their mission.”
“But the blast—that surely must have come from a grenade,” Joseph said.
“It is not confirmation that the woman—if there even was one in the first place—is dead. However, that does not matter now, when we are so close to launch—” Sepehr stopped when he saw the look on Joseph’s face. “What?”
“That was what I was coming in to tell you before I saw the news report. We’re having a slight problem with the gimbal nozzle control system. If it’s not working perfectly, we will not be able to control the direction of the rocket.”
Sepehr took a deep breath. “How long until it is fixed?”
“It should not be long—ten, perhaps fifteen minutes at the most.”
“Very well. Once that is solved, I want you to move to launch immediately. We do not know if we have been compromised by the trap the Americans laid for us.”
Joseph’s cell phone rang, a harsh, jarring tone that made him look down in surprise. “That’s a priority security alert. Come on!”
Sepehr was already moving before the other man stopped talking, running past Joseph to push the door open and head for the main lobby. Once there, he swiped his ID card through and ran to the station, where the night guard was watching a bank of monitors inset into the console.
“Sirs, one of the thermal cameras has detected intruders approximately one mile from the outside perimeter.
They are observing the base. They appear to be using night-vision equipment, and are armed with handguns.”
Sepehr’s fingers curled into fists as he resisted the urge to shove the man out of the way. “Show me,” he said.
“On this screen.”
He stared at the pair, showing up in stark red, yellow and orange against the blacks and dark blues of the surrounding desert. One of them watched the compound through binoculars. The other lay beside him, just looking down at the compound.
Launch the moment you are ready.” He turned to the security man. “Send a team out in the hybrid to eliminate these two. Prepare the sniper teams on the roof, but do not let them take their positions until these two are dead. If the Americans want to sniff around our door like dogs, then we must be prepared to welcome them.”
“So far everything looks normal. Here, take a look.”
Tracy took the binoculars from Nate and focused on the object that most interested her—the rocket. About three stories tall, it certainly looked as if it could roar up and spread electromagnetic chaos across the land with ease.
She panned across the rest of the compound, looking for security points and any weaknesses.
“I see the guard post with two men inside, a steel arm gate and, behind that, what looks like a pop-up barrier to stop anything heavy from entering the perimeter. Pretty elaborate for a private company. Looks like the guard at the main gate is reporting in—security isn’t lax, that’s for sure. Not much other activity. I’d have thought there would be people around the rocket, checking it out and such.”
Nate ducked down behind the hill. “Maybe they aren’t launching tonight, which would be great—we could take them out without worrying about that thing taking off.
Hey, did you hear something?”
Tracy lowered the field glasses and glanced around them. “Something like what?”
“I don’t know, some kind of hum. The desert plays a lot of tricks on your senses, messes with the direction you hear things coming from, that sort of thing. I just thought I heard a low humming noise, like some kind of generator.”
“It might have been from down there,” Tracy said.
“Yeah, but it didn’t sound like it came from down there.
It sounded like it came from—”
Behind them, the Silverado’s hood suddenly buckled and popped up, and Tracy heard the metallic noise of bullets hitting the engine and windshield. Ducking down behind the slope, she looked back to see the driver’s-side tires blow out, making the truck lean to one side. But she didn’t hear the loud report of an automatic rifle, nor did she see the flash of the weapon. She scooted farther down the rise. “Where’s it coming from?”
Nate had pulled out his shotgun, which he clutched in helpless anger. “Looks like about ten o’clock, somewhere over there. They’ve flanked us, they got our range, and now our wheels are gone, so we’re stuck until the reinforcements arrive.”
The firing had stopped for the moment, and Tracy risked a quick peek in that direction. “Even with the night vision it’s tough to see—wait a minute, I got someone. Looks like a three-man team, driver, spotter and shooter, all in a four-wheel-drive. I think the bastards are playing with us.”
“They might as well. We can’t use the other side of the hill as cover, and it seems that they have either night vision or thermal, too. We’re pinned down here. We need some kind of diversion.”
“Like an explosion?” Tracy held out the fragmentation grenade she had taken from the dead terrorist at the hospital.
Nate grabbed it out of her hand. “That’ll do. I’ll hurl this as far as I can over there. When it goes off, run for the truck.
We should be able to hold them off from there. Give it a two-count after the blast so you don’t get hit by shrapnel. Ready?”
Nate pulled the pin, reared up on his knees and threw the grenade overhand toward the shooter. He hit the dirt and covered his ears. A few seconds later, the detonation kicked up a plume of dirt and dust. Hands over her ears, Tracy counted silently in her head—one…two…go!
She ran for the hulk of the disabled Silverado. Nate’s long legs pounded the dirt as he sprinted for cover beside her. She reached the truck a second after him, her chest heaving with the exertion. Pistol gripped tightly, she took up a position at the back and ducked out for a quick peek at their attackers.
“I got nothing back here. How about you?”
Nate’s reply was cut off by the impact of high-velocity bullets against the Silverado, making them both hit the dirt as lead punched through the body panels of the truck above their heads.
Tracy spit dust from her mouth. “You sure this was the best idea?”
“Better than staying trapped on the open desert to be cut down. At least here, under some cover, we’ve got a chance.
All we have to do now is wait for backup,” Nate said.
“And if they come in to get us?”
“Then we take out as many as we can. If they really want us dead, they have to come over here to do it.”
“That’s a comforting thought.” The firing had stopped and Tracy sat up with her back against the wheel, waiting for the next assault to begin. Instead of automatic-rifle fire, she heard tires crunching on the dirt, but no engine noise. As she started to turn to look under the truck to see what was coming, a small four-wheel-drive with an open top raced out of the darkness at the Silverado. A man in the back was leveling a long-barreled assault rifle at her.
