'It looks like the cell took the men in and the chopper went down. We did not have a wide enough viewing area to be certain of that.'
'Friday had a copter,' Herbert said.
'Could it have been him?'
'We don't know who was on the end of the line,' Viens replied.
'One of them looked like he might have been carrying a radio. It was an electronic box of some kind. It did not look like U. S. intelligence issue.'
'I'll call you back,' Herbert said.
'Bob?' Viens said.
'If that was an Indian air force chopper they're going to know where it went down. Even if it wasn't, the explosion is going to register on their satellite monitors or seismic equipment.'
'I know,' Herbert said. The intelligence head put Stephen Viens on hold and called Hank Lewis's office. The NSA officer was not in yet.
Herbert tried Lewis's cell phone but the voice mail picked up. He was either on that line or out of range. Herbert swore. He finally tried Lewis at home. He caught Lewis in the middle of shaving.
Herbert told the NSA chief what had happened and asked if he knew for certain whether Ron Friday was in Jaudar.
'I assume so,' Lewis said.
'I haven't spoken with him since our conference call.'
'Do you have any way of reaching him?' Herbert asked.
'Only if he's in the helicopter,' Lewis said.
'What about his cell phone?' Herbert pressed.
'We haven't tried that,' Lewis said.
'But on the move, in the mountains, it may be difficult.'
'True,' Herbert agreed.
'And the radio?'
'We used a NATO frequency to contact him, but I don't have that info at home,' Lewis said.
'Well, we can backtrack and raise him,' Herbert said.
'Thanks. I'll let you know when we have him.'
Herbert ended the call and glanced at the computer clock.
It was six thirty. Kevin Custer, Op-Center's director of electronic communications, would be in his office by now. Herbert called over.
Custer was a thirty-two-year-old MIT graduate and a distant relative of General George Armstrong Custer through the general's brother Nevin.
Military service was expected in the Custer family and Kevin had spent two years in the army before taking a job at the CIA. He had been there three years when he was snatched up by Bob Herbert. Custer was the most chronically optimistic, upbeat, can-do person Herbert had ever met.
Custer told Herbert that he would get the information for him if he would hold the line. It wasn't even, 'I'll get it and call you back.'
It was, 'Don't go away. I'll have it in a second.' And he did.
'Let's see,' Custer said.
'NSA log has the call coming through with input 101.763, PL 123.0 Hz, 855 inversion scrambling. I can contact the source of the call if you like.' 'Put it through,' Herbert said.
A moment later Herbert heard a beep.
'I'll get off now,' Custer said.
'Let me know if there's anything else.'
'Actually, there is,' Herbert said.
'Would you ring Paul Hood and patch this call through?' Custer said he would. The radio beeped again. Then a third time. Then a fourth.
'Bob, what is it?' Hood asked when he got on. He sounded groggy. He had probably been napping too.
'Viens and I just watched the Pakistani cell haul two people in from what looked like a downed chopper,' Herbert said. The radio beeped a fifth time.
'We're trying to ascertain if one of them was Ron Friday.'
'I thought he was going to Jaudar,' Hood said.
'Exactly,' Herbert replied.
The radio beeped two more times before someone answered.
It definitely was not Ron Friday.
