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Vixen 03 Part 70

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"Captain, you and I will find and neutralize the other warhead," Pitt ordered. "Mr. Lusana, if you will be so kind as to drop this over the side." He handed Lusana the sack bulging with the QD bomblets.

"Me?" Lusana gasped. "I don't have the vaguest idea how to get out of this floating coffin. I'll need a guide."

"Keep making your way topside," Pitt said confidently. "Eventually you'll hit daylight. Then throw the sack in the deepest part of the river."

Lusana was about to leave when Fawkes placed a great paw on his shoulder. "We'll settle our business later."

Lusana stared back steadily. "I look forward to it."



And then the leader of the African Army of Revolution melted into the darkness like a shadow.

At two thousand feet Steiger made a slight adjustment in pitch and the Minerva dipped over the Jefferson Memorial and crossed the Tidal Basin on a course along Independence Avenue.

"It's crowded up here," he said, motioning to a bevy of Army helicopters hovering from one end of the Capitol mall to the other like a swarm of mad bees.

Sandecker nodded and said, "Better keep your distance. They're liable to shoot first and ask questions later."

"How long since the Iowa's last shot?"

"Nearly eighteen minutes."

"Maybe that's the end of it, then," said Steiger.

"We won't land until we're sure," Sandecker replied. "How's the fuel?"

"Enough for nearly four more hours' flying time."

Sandecker twisted in his seat to relieve his aching b.u.t.tocks. "Stay as close as you dare to the National Archives building. If the Iowa cuts loose again, you can bet that's the target."

"I wonder how Pitt made out?"

Sandecker put up an unworried front. "He knows the score. Pitt is the least of our problems." He turned away and looked out a side window so Steiger couldn't see the lines of worry that creased his face.

"I should have been the one to go in," said Steiger. "This is strictly a military show. A civilian has no business risking his life attempting a job he wasn't trained for."

"And you were, I suppose."

"You must admit my credentials outweigh Pitt's."

Sandecker found himself smiling. "Care to bet?"

Steiger caught the admiral's cagey tone. "What are you implying?"

"You've been had, Colonel, pure and simple."

"Had?"

"Pitt carries the rank of major in the Air Force."

Steiger looked over at Sandecker, his eyes squinting. "Are you going to tell me he can fly?"

"Just about every aircraft built, including this helicopter."

"But he claimed-"

"I know what he claimed."

Steiger looked lost. "And you sat back and said nothing?"

"You have a wife and children. Me, I'm too old. Dirk was the logical man to go."

The tenseness went out of Steiger's body and he sagged into his seat. "He better make it," he murmured under his breath. "By G.o.d, he better make it."

Pitt would have gladly given the last penny in his savings account to be anyplace but climbing a pitch-black stairway deep inside a s.h.i.+p that at any second might turn into an inferno. His brow was clammy and cold with sweat, as though he were running a fever. Suddenly Fawkes stopped and Pitt ran into him like a blind man against an oak tree.

"Please remain where you stand, gentlemen." The voice came from

the lightless landing several steps above. "You cannot see me, but I can see enough of you both to strike your hearts with a bullet."

"This is the captain," Fawkes snapped angrily.

"Ah, Captain Fawkes himself. How convenient. I was beginning to fear I had missed connections. You were not on the bridge, as I supposed."

"Identify yourself!" Fawkes demanded.

"The name is Emma. Not very masculine, I admit, but it serves the purpose."

"Stop this foolishness and let us pa.s.s." Fawkes made a move up two steps when the Hocker-Rodine hissed and a bullet zinged past his neck. He froze in midstep. "Good G.o.d, man, what is it you want?"

"I admire a no-nonsense approach, Captain." Emma paused, and then said, "I've been ordered to kill you."

Slowly, unnoticed by Fawkes and, he hoped, by the man on the landing, Pitt slipped down to his stomach on the steps, s.h.i.+elded by the shadowy bulk of the captain. Then, fractionally, he began slithering up the stairs like a snake.

"Ordered, you say," said Fawkes. "By whom?"

"My employer does not matter."

"Then why all the prattle, d.a.m.n you. Why not shoot me in the chest and be done with it?"

"I do not operate without purpose, Captain Fawkes. You have been deceived. I think you should know that."

"Deceived?" Fawkes thundered. "Your foggy words tell me nothing."

An alarm began to sound in the back of Emma's mind, an alarm honed by a dozen years of cat-and-mouse existence. He stood there silently, not answering the captain's question, his senses probing for a sound or a movement.

"What about the man behind me?" asked Fawkes. "He has no hand in this. No need to murder an innocent bystander."

"Rest easy, Captain," said Emma. "My fee is for only one life. Yours."

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