It didn’t help that he had recognized a mistake in the formula they showed him about the amount of radiation exposure from a ten-second blast by the machine. If they had made a mistake of the same magnitude on the probability of setting off a nuke, he might soon be a permanent part of the Peruvian hillside.
“Here we go,” he told Chafetz. “If you hear a boom, you’ll know I found something.”
Karr laughed, but he felt sweat running down the side of his neck. He worked his way slowly around the concrete floor, once more reserving the area around the steel door for last. Finally, he went over to the door and pointed the interrogator downward.
No beep.
“It’s a tunnel,” said Chafetz. “Goes in the direction of the house.”
“All right. I’ll check that next.”
Karr switched the interrogator off and started to whistle. He walked back to the rucksack, bending to put his gear back.
As he did, the lights in the barn switched on.
76
“It’s about time you checked in, Mr. Dean.”
“Hello, Mr. Rubens.”
“Why did you leave Mr. Karr?”
Dean cupped his hand over the sat phone, pretending to use it as he spoke to the Art Room.
“I’m going to help Lia.”
“That’s really unnecessary, Charlie. We’ve put the paramilitary unit that was stationed in Ecuador into the air already.”
“If they’re flying helicopters, they’ll have to stop and refuel at least once. I can get there first.”
“Your mission was to check the site of satellite telephone transmissions with Mr. Magnor-Karr.”
“He can handle that on his own.”
“That is not your decision to make, Mr. Dean. You cannot be privy to all information such judgments require.”
“I know enough to say the judgment was wrong.”
Dean glanced at his watch. They were about five minutes from the valley the pilot said was the most likely spot for the crash.
“It would be helpful if you could tell me where she is,” Dean continued. “Sooner or later I’m going to find her, but it would probably be better sooner.”
“Do not think this means I approve.”
There was a slight but audible pop on the line.
“Charlie?”
“Hello, Marie.”
“Lia is in a small settlement fifty miles to the northeast of where you’re flying. There’s a large pond four miles south of it that we think your airplane could use to land; Fashona says it’ll be tight but doable.”
“OK.”
“The paramilitary team has just landed to refuel. They’re about a half hour of flying time away, but our preference would be to conduct the mission after nightfall, which is seven hours from now. Lia doesn’t seem to be in any immediate danger. We’re in contact with her — well, you know Lia; she says she’s fine.”
“I’ll bet.”
“The rebels realize she’s here for the UN. They’ve told her they may release her. We’re not taking them at their word, but they have been fairly benign toward her.”
Dean scoffed.
“I’m not saying I trust them,” noted Telach. “We have infrared imagery of the area where she is from a U-2 overhead. In addition, she’s given us a good idea of the layout there. She believes that the area immediately outside of the settlement is either mined or booby-trapped in some way. It would be very useful if you could scout that for the rescue team. We’d like you to start by looking at two landing sites nearby.”
“OK.”
Dean told the pilot to change his course for the northeast, then unfolded the map. With prompts from the Art Room, he showed the pilot the mountainside where the helicopter had crashed and the lake where he wanted to land.
“I’d like to look at the area first,” Dean told the pilot. “I’d prefer not to attract much attention when I do so, though.”
“Let me ask you: Did the person you were talking to on your phone there say this was an accident? Or did someone shoot down the helicopter? Because there are guerrillas all through this valley.”
“He wasn’t sure.”
“It would be better not to get too close.”
“I agree.”
They flew about a half mile from the site, just close enough to make out part of the wreckage twisted against the hillside. Sunlight glinted off the glass, helping mark the location. The guerrilla camp was not very far away, no more than two miles, but the rugged terrain and thick vegetation made it invisible from the air, even when Dean looked directly at it.
“I can’t land on that lake,” said the pilot as they passed over it. “The sides of the mountain there are too steep, and with the trees I would be taking too big a risk.”
Fashona had said it was doable, but Dean wasn’t in a position to argue.
“Where else can you land?”
“There’s a stretch of that highway that’s long enough. It’s only a half mile away.”
“You’ll ruin your floats.”
“There are wheels at the bottom of them. But we get only one pass. And it would be a good idea to have your gun ready.”
77
Karr swung around as the light in the barn came on, but there was no one at the doors.
He pulled off the glasses, leaping back to his rucksack and grabbing his submachine gun.
“Lights are on here,” he told Chafetz in the Art Room. “Must be some sort of timing circuit.”
“In a barn, Tommy?”
“Good point. Anybody outside?”
“Negative.”
Karr pulled his bag with him to the trapdoor. He was thinking about using it as a hiding place when he realized there was light coming through the cracks from below.
“OK, now I think I know what’s going on,” he told Chafetz. “This is a tunnel to the house. Somebody must be coming.”
“Then get out of there.”
“And miss all the excitement?”
Karr pulled his pack on his back so he wouldn’t have to worry about retrieving it if he had to retreat. Then he stepped behind the hinge to the door, so he could surprise whoever was coming out A minute later, the door creaked, and the metal swung upward slowly. Karr waited a second, then pitched his arms back, wielding the submachine gun like a club.
He stopped it just short of the small gray-haired skull that popped into the opening.
“Whoa!” said Karr, reaching down and grabbing the diminutive woman from the stairwell. He threw her aside,
