citadel immediately.
'SAT-SN is in,' Van Lewen said from the computer terminal.
'Satellite imagery should be coming through any minute now, too.'
'What's it say?” Nash said.
'Take a look,' Van Lewen said, stepping aside.
Nash stared at the screen in front of him. The image on it showed the northern half of South America:
NATIONAL RECONNAISSANCE OFFICE
EXPEDITED TASK NO. 040199-6754
SAT-SN PRELIMINARY SURVEY
PARAMETERS: 82.00°W-30.00°W; 15.00°N37.00°S
DATE: 5 JAN, lgg9 16:59:56 P.M. (LOCAL—PERU)
PNMA
VNZLA ',
BRZL
Lima '
Rio de Janeiro
PRU ',
BLVIAI , '
PIGGY '.,
'What the hell—?' Nash frowned.
'At least the immediate area is all clear…' Van Lewen said.
'What's it all mean?' Race asked.
Van Lewen said, 'The straight lines represent the five main commercial air corridors in South America. Basically, Panama acts as a gateway to the continent, with commercial flights usually going direct from there to Lima and Rio de Janeiro and then from those two cities down to Buenos Aires. The grey squares represent aircraft in our quarter outside the regular commercial air corridors.'
Race looked at the screennsaw the three clusters of grey squares hovering over the north-western quarter of the continent.
'What do the letters and numbers mean?'
Van Lewen said, 'The grey circle just above Cuzco—the one with “NI” written underneath it is us. It stands for “Nash-One”, our team here at the village. N2, N3 and N4 are our air support choppers, en route to Vilcafor from Panama. But it looks like they're still a good way out.'
'What about the other grey squares?'
'R1, R2 and R3 are Romano's choppers,' Nash said.
“But they're so far to the north,' Van Lewen said, turning to Nash. 'How could they have overshot the mark so badly?'
'They're lost,' Nash said. 'They must have misread the totems.'
Once again, Race wanted to know who this Romano person was, but he just bit his tongue and remained silent.
'And these?' Renee said, indicating the three squares out over the ocean on the extreme left of the screen.
“NY1, NY2 and NY3 are U.S. Navy signatures,' Van Lewen said. 'The Navy must have a carrier out there somewhere.'
'No sign of the Stormtroopers?' Schroeder asked.
'No,' Nash said somberly.
Race's watch ticked over to five o'clock. With the harsh black storm clouds rolling in overhead, the late afternoon sky had become unusually dark. It might as well have been night.
Nash turned to Van Lewen. 'How are we for vision?'
'Satellite imagery will be with us in about sixty seconds.'
'Delayed or realtime?'
'Real-time infrared.'
'Good,' Nash said. 'We should be able to get a clear picture of those cats as they come out of the crater and head into the village. You all set?'
Van Lewen stood up. Beside him, Buzz Cochrane and Tex Reichart hefted their M-16s across their chests.
'Yes, sir,' Cochrane said, casting a sideways wink at Renee. 'Cocked, locked and ready to rock.'
