easier.

Herbert knew from Darling's dossier that he had a 1994 Learjet model 31A. The Australian used that for local hops. Darling kept his larger Gulfstream G-V at the airport in Darwin. Herbert would be able to identify the smaller plane with no problem.

A moment later, the small jet appeared on the airport landing strip. At this hour, it was the only active vehicle on the field. It stopped at the end of the runway. The pilot would go through his final preflight check. Then he would request clearance from the tower. A few moments later, Jervis Darling would be gone. The helicopter would never be able to catch him. And Lowell Coffey would definitely oppose scrambling the jets from Cooktown to force the Learjet down. Especially if Jessica-Ann Darling were on board. The media would take huge bites from a story headlined, 'RAAF attacks schoolgirl.'

Herbert looked at his watch. It was approximately seven minutes until the helicopter landed in Cairns. They would never reach the airstrip in time. He no longer had time to be subtle. He leaned toward the flight deck.

'What's the range of the radar at the airstrip in Cairns?' Herbert asked.

Jelbart looked at the pilot. 'What have they got there, an EL/M-2125?' he asked.

'I believe so, sir,' the pilot replied.

'They've got high-resolution views to the horizon on all sides, from one degree above the surface,' Jelbart said.

'Meaning they'll see us as we fly toward Cairns,' Herbert said.

'Like they were looking out the window,' Jelbart said.

'What will they do if we come screaming in at them?'

'Buzz the tower?' Jelbart asked.

'I want to make a run toward the field!' Herbert said. 'What will the tower do when they see us coming?'

'They'll shut the field down until they've contacted us,' the pilot informed him.

'Then do it!' Herbert ordered.

'You want me to streak the airstrip?' the pilot clarified.

'At maximum drive! Now!' Herbert yelled. 'Absolute radio silence.'

As Herbert spoke, he disconnected the telephone receiver from the cord on his wheelchair. He held the plastic receiver in his right hand. With his left hand, Herbert gripped the plastic strap above the door. He did not want to use the seat belt. He needed a little mobility.

Jelbart protested. But his complaint was lost in the roar of the powerful 500 TTSN engine. Everyone was thrown forward or back as the Bell dipped, revved up, and raced ahead.

As Herbert expected, John Hawke was thrown toward him. Herbert swung the telephone receiver at the back of Hawke's neck. The security officer went down. Just to make sure Hawke was not feigning sleep again, Herbert leaned down and slugged him again. Hawke would have a difficult time proving he did not hurt himself when the helicopter abruptly changed directions.

Monica Loh had had the foresight to buckle her seat belt. That wonderful lady did not miss a thing.

Scooting back up in his seat, Herbert looked at his phone. The receiver was cracked. He would apologize to Viens later for disconnecting him. He would also have to frame the phone and give it to Paul Hood.

In this instance, at least, he and his boss were in complete agreement.

The telephone could be one hell of a weapon of choice.

Chapter Seventy

Washington, D.C. Saturday, 3:06 P.M.

Hood was looking at the computer monitor on his desk. Stephen Viens had just sent him the same image that Bob Herbert was seeing. Hood saw the gleaming white Learjet poised for takeoff on the end of the runway. The aircraft was just sitting there.

'So that's Darling's jet, and Bob's going to try to keep him from taking off by mucking up the field's airspace,' Hood said.

'That's pretty much it,' Viens said.

'And then what? Did he give any clue?'

'No,' Viens admitted.

'He wouldn't have wanted to say much,' Hood thought aloud. 'Not with a suspect in the cabin.'

'I wonder if the Cooktown airbase will scramble jets to try to chase him away.'

'They might, but Jelbart could handle that,' Hood said. He shook his head. 'Stephen, this is one of those times when you just have to trust the people you have in the field. But I do have one problem.'

'What's that?'

'The poor Mississippi kid wants the rich Australian's hide,' Hood said.

'I see,' Viens said.

'I want the nuclear material,' Hood went on.

Hood continued to watch the monitor. He did not think that Herbert would forget why he had gone to Australia.

And then he saw something on the monitor. Something new. 'Stephen, can you bring me in closer?'

'I was just about to suggest that,' Viens replied.

'You see it, too?'

'Yes,' Viens said.

'Can you make it out?' Hood asked.

'Not yet,' Viens told him. 'Give me another few seconds to kick up the zoom and resolution.'

The green-tinted image began to change. The Learjet became larger in the lower right-hand corner of the monitor. The white of the fuselage looked irradiated in the night-vision lens. The tarmac expanded. And the black, bloblike object in the upper left became slightly clearer.

Hood stared at it intently. He saw what the object was. And he was very sorry that Bob Herbert's phone was not working.

Chapter Seventy-One

Cairns, Australia Sunday, 5:07 A.M.

The sun was beginning to brighten the charcoal gray tarmac at the tiny airfield. Inside the sleek Learjet, Jervis Darling sat in a deep, cushioned seat over the wing. The gentle hum of the engines comforted him, as always. He loved the feeling of bridled power. Especially when he controlled the reins. Bundled in his overcoat, his daughter was asleep in the seat beside him. Once they had reached cruising altitude, Darling would carry the young girl to the small bedroom in the back of the aircraft.

As the jet continued to idle, Darling became impatient. He punched a button on top of the armrest. That activated the intercom to the cockpit.

'Shawn, what's the delay?'

'Mr. Darling, the tower has put us on temporary hold,' pilot Shawn Daniels replied.

'Find out what it's about,' Darling snapped. 'I want to be airborne as quickly as possible.'

'Sir, that may not be possible,' Daniels told him.

'What are you talking about?'

'There's activity on the tarmac,' he replied.

'What kind of activity?' Darling demanded.

'The tower has not given me that information, sir,' Daniels replied.

'Damn the tower,' Darling said as he unbuckled his seat belt. He moved through the narrow cabin, ducking his head slightly under the low ceiling. He opened the cockpit door. Pilot Daniels and copilot Kristin Bedard moved

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