conversation ninety minutes ago. All Tony had to do was hold out until the cavalry arrived, or until the bombs fell.
Either way, the siege of Area 51 would end in the next couple of hours.
Megan Reed’s stomach rumbled and she shifted uncomfortably. She was hungry, thirsty and she needed to go to the bathroom. They’d had no water since six AM, around the same time they were last allowed to go to the restroom. More than a third of the prisoners were still asleep, and Megan admired those who managed to find peace despite the tension and discomfort.
sidle over to Dr. Toth and ask his professional opinion. Only then did she notice that the physician was sleeping, too.
Unfortunately her bladder was too full for her to sleep. She had to go, and soon. At first Megan decided to wait for the other guards to return before making the embarrassing request. Then she mentally kicked herself.
Megan raised her hand. “Hey there. You. Hello!”
Boca and the other guard glanced in her direction. “I don’t know about these other people, but I need to use the ladies’ room
Sneering, Carlos looked away.
“Hey, buddy,” Megan cried. “I’m talking to
Face curled into a cruel sneer, Carlos Boca stood up, faced her. He slung his rifle over his shoulder and slowly approached the woman. Megan could tell he was angry. The closer he got, the more pissed the Cuban looked. The other guard watched from the sidelines, snickering. The prisoners around her grew uncomfortable, upset she was rocking the boat. But Megan didn’t care.
Tony had been observing the hostages for a few minutes. The guards were so far apart, Tony couldn’t see how he was going to neutralize them without firing a shot. But then, thanks to the reliably annoying Dr. Reed, he got his best opening yet.
While Boca loomed threateningly over the defiant Dr. Reed, Tony gripped the cutting blade with both hands, raised it over his head and burst from hiding. With a powerful downward thrust, Tony split the snickering guard’s skull from crown to jaw. The dead man dropped without a sound, blood pooling around Tony’s sneakers. Unfortunately, the guard dragged the blade down with him — it had wedged so deeply in the Cuban’s torso, Tony could not yank it free.
Carlos Boca was still a few feet away. Turning, the Cuban tried to drag the AK–47 off his shoulder to fire. But Megan Reed grabbed the assault rifle and hung on with both hands like a tenacious pit bull. With the strap tugging at his arm, Boca had no choice but to release the weapon. Still, the Cuban commando was not unarmed. Boca drew a long stiletto out of his high boot and lunged at Tony.
The man was an experienced knife fighter, so fast Tony did not completely sidestep the blow. The razor thin blade raked his ribcage. Tony howled. Shutting out the pain, he locked Boca’s knife arm under his own and stepped around the helpless man. A quick jerk, and Tony felt the bone snap in Boca’s arm. Tony used his elbow to strike the man three times. The first blow smashed Boca’s nose. The second shattered his jaw. The third strike killed him.
He stepped back and the dead man pitched to the floor. Tony reeled as blood streamed down his flanks. Megan was instantly on her feet to steady him.
“Antonio? Is that you?” she cried, recognizing him despite the layers of grit and grease. Tony took in the woman’s pink Meow, Meow Kitty teddy and matching panties. “That’s a new look for you, isn’t it Doc?” he grunted.
“You’ve been wounded!”
By now, the hostages were starting to rise. “Get down, stay in your places. At least until I close the hangar door.”
Tony limped to the control panel and hit the switch. It took a minute for the door to come down. When it did, he visibly relaxed but did not slow down.
Tony tossed Boca’s assault rifle to a young airman with dark hair and Hispanic features.
“Go stand in that doorway—” Tony pointed to a narrow door adjacent to the blast-proof steel gate. “— pretend you’re a guard. The longer the bad guys think they’ve got us, the longer they’ll leave us alone.”
Dr. Reed kept her arms wrapped around Tony while he moved across the hangar. She clung so tightly Tony wasn’t sure who was supporting whom. Tony opened the idle generator and reached under the hood. The Glock was right where he left it. With his fist around the familiar weapon, Tony felt complete.
Dr. Alvin Toth touched his arm. “You’re bleeding, young man.”
“I don’t have time to bleed,” Tony replied.
“I saw that movie, too,” Toth replied with a sly smile. “I also have a First Aid kit right here. Let me fix you up…”
Tony nodded and leaned against the generator. He lifted his arm while Toth smeared a disinfectant on the ragged gash. Tony winced, sucking air.
“Be careful, Dr. Toth! You’ll hurt him,” Megan cried, arms wrapped around Tony’s broad shoulders.
23. THE FOLLOWING TAKES PLACE BETWEEN THE HOURS OF 10 A.M. AND 11 A.M. PACIFIC DAYLIGHT TIME
Yizi drifted through Hangar Five like a shadow. Ignoring the others, she approached Jong Lee. Her master had his back to the open door while he admired the sleek design of the experimental stealth helicopter. A few commandos were with him in the hangar. Many more had been deployed across the base, anticipating a military response from the Americans
“The jamming ceased approximately one hour ago,” the woman reported in whispered Chinese. “I was able to re-send the emergency message to our base in Mexico. They acknowledged receiving it, but offered no timeline for our extraction.”
Jong Lee frowned. He’d suspected the truth, but only now did he know for certain that he’d been abandoned by his own government. It was a stinging blow, but not unexpected after their setbacks. If Jong Lee were back in Beijing, he probably would have issued the same command.
“Very well,” Lee said, his voice grim. “We still possess the only prototype of the Malignant Wave device, and the Blackfoot helicopter to carry it. It is time to retreat with what we have, rather than mourn what we have lost.”
Lee called Captain Hsu to his side. “I believe an American counterattack is imminent. We will depart within the hour.”
Pizarro Rojas watched the exchange, Stella Hawk by his side. The Colombian pulled away from the woman and strode over to the Chinese agent.
“You’re leaving us, then,” Rojas said bitterly.
Jong Lee did not reply. His face remained impassive.
“I don’t need to understand Chinese to see what’s going on,” the Colombian continued.
“I must surrender to expedience,” Lee replied. “Many valuable assets have been lost. There is only one way to achieve victory from this morass.”
“You’re not going run away without me,” Rojas cried. He yanked the pistol out of his holster and waved it at Jong Lee.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” Stella cried.
