edged cold.
His toes and fingertips were numb, despite the heavy boots and gloves.
If he were shot, he wondered how long it would take the blood to freeze.
But most of all Friday was angry. It would not take much for him to point the gun at Rodgers and pull the trigger. The NSA operative was trying to figure out if anything could be gained by surrendering to the Indians. Assuming the Indians would not shoot the group out of hand, they might appreciate the American bringing them one of the terrorists who had attacked the marketplace- Surrender might well trigger the feared Indian nuclear strike against Pakistan. It might also save him from dying here.
The figure arrived. It was Rodgers. He crawled behind the slab and knelt beside Friday.
'What's going on?' Friday asked.
'There might be a way to get Nanda's confession on the air without entering the silo,' Rodgers said.
'A silo. Is that what this place is?' Friday asked.
Rodgers ignored the question.
'Samouel thinks he saw a satellite dish about ten feet up the slope,' Rodgers continued.
'That would make sense,' Friday replied.
'Explain,' Rodgers said.
'When the flares came on I got a good look at the wall over the entrance,' Friday said.
'From about ten feet up on this side they'd have a clear shot across the opposite slope.'
'That's what I was hoping,' Rodgers said.
'If there is a dish there, and we can get to the satellite cable, Samouel might be able to splice a connection to the cell phone.'
The men heard movement from the other side of the clearing.
Friday did not think the Indians would move against them. They would wait for the helicopter to return. But they might try to position themselves to set up a cross fire. If the Indians got Nanda the game was over. So were their own lives.
'We're going to have to get a good look at the dish before we do anything,' Friday said.
'Why?' Rodgers asked.
'We need to see where the power source is,' Friday said.
'This is a good spot for a battery-driven dish. Oil companies use them in icy areas. The power source doubles as a heater to keep the gears from freezing. If that's the case, we don't have to go up to the ledge.
We can expose the line anywhere and know it's the communications cable.'
'But if the power source is inside the silo we have to get to the dish and figure out which cable it is,' Rodgers said.
'Bingo,' said Friday.
'I'll tell you what,' Rodgers said.
'You stay down and keep your eyes on the ledge.'
'What are you going to do?'
Rodgers replied, 'Get you some light.'
CHAPTER SIXTY.
The Siachin Glacier Friday, 2:51 a. m.
Mike Rodgers moved to the far end of the clearing. He stopped when he reached the slope. Crouching and moving as quietly as possible he made his way along the wall. He wanted to be far enough from the slab so that Friday was protected. He did not need to be protected from what Rodgers was planning but from how the Indians might respond.
Rodgers hoped that Friday got a good look at the dish.
Chances were good that Rodgers himself would not be seeing much. He would be busy looking for a place to hide.
The general stopped about twenty yards from Friday. That was a safe distance. He opened his jacket and removed one of the two flash-bang grenades he carried. The weapon was about the size and configuration of a can of shaving cream.
He removed his gloves and held them in his teeth. Then he put his right hand across the safety spoon and slipped his left index ringer through the pull-ring. He placed the canister on the ground and squatted beside it. Rodgers moved his right foot along the ground to make sure where the ice cliff was. He would need that to guide him.
Then he pulled the ring, released the spoon, and rose. He turned and put his bare left hand against the slope. He felt his way around the thick bulges and barren stretches. He wanted to move quickly. But if he fell over something he might be exposed when the grenade went off.
Rodgers counted as he moved. When the general reached ten, the nonlethal grenade went off.
The nonlethal flash-bang grenade was designed to roll in a confined area, distracting and disorienting the occupants with a series of magnesium-bright explosions and deafening bangs. In this case, Rodgers was hoping the grenade would brighten the perimeter just enough for two things. For Friday to see the dish and Rodgers to find a
