tent.
“My commanding officer, senor?” The man almost snickered. “Colonel Collins, your actions in my country have earned the highest attention from the highest authority.” The officer pulled the tent flap aside and gestured for Everett and Collins to enter.
There were six men inside. One was dressed in civilian clothing, wearing a black sport coat with a white shirt underneath and pressed black pants. He held a large ice-filled glass in his hand, topped off with an amber liquid, and seemed freshly showered. The other five men had a galaxy of stars on their shoulders. They looked upon Jack and Carl with little more than curiosity.
The officer who had escorted them into the tent stepped in front of the two Americans.
“Colonel Collins and Captain Everett, sir. Gentlemen,” he said, turning to face Jack and Carl. “May I present to you El Presidente de la Republica del Ecuador, Rafael Vicente Correa DiSilva.”
The president of Ecuador handed one of his generals the drink he was holding. He eyed Everett and Jack in turn.
“You have been very busy men in my country.”
“Yes, sir, we seek-”
Delgado held up a hand.
“Did you have designs on attacking this force of men who are bivouacking in their own country, Colonel?”
“Of course not, sir,” Collins said, looking shocked at the allegation. “We were merely going to ask the commander here if we could assault that mine and the bad guys guarding it.”
The president couldn’t resist. He smiled and then looked back at his generals. At first they didn’t find anything funny, at least not until the president did. Then they too laughed aloud.
“You were going ask the commander here to leave the area?”
“Yes, we were.”
“Tell me, Colonel Collins, all of this trouble you have caused in my capital and the troubles you are accused of in Germany-are you saying you are innocent of these things, and that you are not what you would call a bad guy?”
“Yes, sir, innocent to a certain point. I believe the men responsible for these events are on their way here now, just to the south of this area.”
“Is that so?” the president asked, turning to face his generals. “Well, Colonel,” he said, glancing at Everett, “and Captain, I have recently had a very long conversation with your president, and he says while you are a man of considerable trouble to him at times, he does not know you as a liar.”
“That’s nice of him.”
“He’s also explained some very strange things to me. Let’s say he has taken me into his confidence, so to speak. Colonel, we have very strange times coming, which is why I am pulling this detail out of the Andes. You may do as you wish, with the proviso that Colonel Raul DeSouza here accompanies you while you are in my country. I am afraid that is all I can offer, as the mine is legally owned by an American and a German national. As I studied economics at your University of Illinois, I am aware that any assault on these mine shafts would have to prove beyond any doubt that they hold illegal goods or some operation that is hurtful to my nation.” He smiled at Jack. “Besides, your president has asked that this operation be kept between him and me, and not to allow any more men into that mine than necessary.”
“I wish I could say I understand, but the president has told you far more than us.”
“As for the men that you say are coming up from the south, General Santiago here will lead an assault against them to buy you time. There is also further news. Another hundred men are coming from the east, a similar number from the north. We are heavily outnumbered, and my men are lightly armed. They will no doubt meet more firepower than they have on hand. Unfortunately, the rest of my small army is in the cities of my country to guard against the violent protests by various religious factions. We are attempting to get helicopter support, possibly a squadron of Cobra gunships; they are old, but still pack a powerful punch. I am sorry that this is all we have for you, Colonel. Do what you need to do, but please make it fast.”
Jack saluted the man in front of him, as did Everett. President DiSilva just smiled a sad smile and nodded, and he and his generals left the tent.
“Well, I guess this was a good news, bad news kind of thing, huh, Jack?”
Collins accepted his nine-millimeter from the Ecuadorian colonel and turned to Everett.
“You know, you’re always looking at the dark side of things. I don’t know about your attitude lately, Mr. Everett, I think you’re getting old, buddy.”
“I hope to grow just a little older, Colonel dear.”
The Astral was named for the corporation that designed her, EADS Astrium in Bremen She was a two-story, three-deck design that had failed in every simulation for the three years she was in development. The lander carried two pilots and eight crewmen, only four of whom were mission specialists; the other four were trained commandos from the elite Commandos Marine of the French navy.
The Astral had received severe damage after the attack on the Ariane platforms during launch. One of her four landing gear had been sheared off at the landing pad and was floating free somewhere outside the International Space Station. Since detaching from the command module, Bonaparte 1, the command and control systems had failed twice, and she was now on the third and final backup motherboard for her navigation system. In order to save that last, precious module, the commander, Major Jean Marceau, had ordered the pilots to navigate by directional viewing, meaning they had to rely on map and visual references for landing. They would save the only NAV board on the computer for the all-important rendezvous with the Bonaparte when she lifted free of the lunar surface.
As far as the two pilots could tell, they were coming in far too fast and at least 106 miles from the Shackleton landing area. As the Astral ’s main engine burn flared brightly in the closed circuit television system inside the cabin, all eyes nervously watched the clock as Astral was nearing her burn duration-she was fast running out of fuel.
“We must have a faulty gauge, or we’re losing fuel somewhere between the tanks and the engine,” the copilot said as he vigorously recalculated their consumption by handheld computer. “As near as I can tell we have two minutes of fuel remaining. We’re too high and traveling too fast. We have to set her down now, Major.”
Marceau turned and ordered all crewmen to get ready for an emergency landing. They secured their helmets and checked their vital systems. The two pilots placed their helmets on in relays as Astral halted its forward trajectory and commenced an attitude straight down toward the rocky surface below.
“Major, we have Shackleton in sight at 34.04672 kilometers distant,” the copilot reported as calmly as he could.
“Over twenty-one miles distant,” Marceau said to himself, as he leaned over and saw the giant crater from two miles up. “We can’t help it now. Sit her down. We have some walking ahead of us.”
“God, Major, look at that!” the copilot said, gazing out the large command windows on the upper deck.
Marceau saw Shackleton and the damage the explosion had caused. Three quarters of the north wall of the crater was gone. The interior of Shackleton looked scorched and the debris from its interior had spread around the hole like a shotgun blast pattern. The major smiled.
“Some of the interior structures have survived,” he said as he looked at the four scientists that were strapped in on the lower deck along with the four commandos. “They must have been built to endure a heavy strike for them to still be standing.” As he turned back, he saw that distance and lower altitude had taken the view away from him. Astral continued descending.
“One minute of fuel remaining, thirty-two kilometers downrange of landing target. Altitude is ten thousand, descending at three thousand feet per minute.” The copilot looked over at his lander pilot. “We’re not going to make it.”
“Stand by to cut power to main engine. We’ll allow Astral to free-fall for twenty-two seconds. Then fire everything we have for the final approach.”
The copilot’s eyes widened as he finally understood the plan for reaching the lunar surface. The last he had
