Deception Point Page 95

The communications twirl on the whiles belt crackled. The voice coming out was robotic. Delta-Three? Come in. I heard a shot.The man made no move to answer.The device crackled again. Delta-Three? Confirm. Do you need gutsup?Almost immediately, a immature voice crackled over the line. It was also robotic but distinguishable by the sound of a helicopter fray in the anchorground. This is Delta-One, the pilot said. Im in pursuit of the departing vessel. Delta-Three, confirm. Are you down? Do you need indorseup?Tolland press the bang-stick into the mans throat. Tell the helicopter to stomach off that speedboat. If they kill my friend, you die.The soldier winced in pain as he lifted his communication device to his lips. He looked directly at Tolland as he pressed the sack and spoke. Delta-Three, here. Im fine. Destroy the departing vessel.115Gabrielle Ashe returned to Sextons private bathroom, preparing to climb back out of his office. Sextonsphone c every had left her feeling anx ious. He had definitely hesitated when she told him she was in her office-as if he knew somehow she was lying. Either way, shed failed to get into Sextons computer and now was unsure of her beside move.Sexton is waiting.As she climbed up onto the sink, getting ready to pull herself up, she heard something clatter to the tile floor. She looked down, get to to see that shed knocked off a pair of Sextons cuff link that had apparently been sitting on the coast of the sink.Leave things exactly as you gear up them.Climbing back down Gabrielle picked up the cuff links and put them back on the sink. As she began to climb back up, she paused, glancing again at the cuff links. On any other night, Gabrielle would have ignored them, but tonight their monogram caught her attention. Like most of Sextons monogrammed items, they had two intertwining letters. SS. Gabrielle flashed on Sextons initial computer password-SSS. She pictured his calendar POTUS and the White House screensaver with its optimistic ticker read front crawl around the screen ad infinitum. hot seat of the United States Sedgewick Sexton President of the United States Sedgewick Sexton President of theGabrielle stood a moment and wondered. Could he be that confident?Knowing it would take totally an instant to breakthrough out, she hurried back into Sextons office, went to his computer, and typed in a seven-letter password.POTUSSSThe screensaver evaporated instantly.She stared, incredulous.Never underestimate the ego of a politician.116corked Marlinson was no longer at the helm of the Crestliner Phantom as it raced into the night. He knew the boat would travel in a straight line with or without him at the wheel. The path of least resistance bad was in the back of the bouncing boat, trying to assess the damage to his leg. A bullet had entered the front part of his calf, just lacking(p) his shinbone. There was no exit wound on the back of his calf, so he knew the bullet must(prenominal) shut away be l odged in his leg. Fo worrying around for something to stem the bleeding, he found nothing-some fins, a snorkel, and a couple of life jackets. No first-aid kit. Frantically, Corky opened a small utility chest and found some tools, rags, duct tape, oil, and other maintenance items. He looked at his bloody leg and wondered how far he had to go to be out of shark territory.A hell of a lot farther than this.Delta-One unplowed the Kiowa chopper low over the ocean as he s nookiened the darkness for the departing Crestliner. Assuming the fleeing boat would mountain pass for shore and attempt to put as much distance as possible between itself and the Goya, Delta-One had followed the Crestliners current trajectory away from the Goya.I should have overtaken him by now.Normally, tracking the fleeing boat would be a unbiased matter of using microwave radar, but with the Kiowas jamming systems transmitting an umbrella of thermal noise for several miles, his radar was worthless. Turning off the jamming system was not an option until he got word that everyone onboard the Goya was dead. No tinge phone calls would be leaving the Goya this evening.This meteorite secret dies. Right here. Right now.Fortunately, Delta-One had other means of tracking. Even against this curious backdrop of heated ocean, pinpointing a powerboats thermal imprint was simple. He turned on his thermal scanner. The ocean around him registered a warm ninety-five degrees. Fortunately, the emissions of a racing 250 hp outboard engine were hundreds of degrees hotter.Corky Marlinsons leg and foot felt numb.Not knowing what else to do, he had wiped down his injured calf with the rag and wrapped the wound in layer after layer of duct tape. By the time the tape was gone, his entire calf, from ankle to knee, was enveloped in a tight silver sheath. The bleeding had stopped, although his clothing and hands were still covered with blood.Sitting on the floor of the runaway Crestliner, Corky felt confused about why the chopper hadnt found him yet. He looked out now, scanning the horizon behind him, expecting to see the distant Goya and debut helicopter. Oddly, he saw neither. The lights of the Goya had disappeared. Certainly he hadnt come that far, had he?Corky suddenly felt smart he might escape. Maybe they had lost him in the dark. Maybe he could get to shoreIt was hence he noticed that the wake behind his boat was not straight. It seemed to curve gradually away from the back of his boat, as if he were traveling in an arc rather than a straight line. Confused by this, he turned his head to follow the wakes arc, extrapolating a giant curve crosswise the ocean. An instant later, he saw it.The Goya was directly off his port side, less than a half mile away. In horror, Corky realized his mistake too late. With no one at the wheel, the Crestliners bow had continuously realigned itself with the direction of the respectable current-the megaplumes circular water flow. Im driving in a big fri ggin circleHe had doubled back on himself.Knowing he was still inside the shark-filled megaplume, Corky recalled Tollands grim words. Enhanced telencephalon olfactory lobes hammerheads can smell a droplet of blood a mile away. Corky looked at his bloody duct-taped leg and hands.The chopper would be on him soon.Ripping off his bloody clothing, Corky scrambled naked toward the stern. Knowing no sharks could possibly keep pace with the boat, he rinsed himself as best as he could in the brawny blast of the wake.A single droplet of bloodAs Corky stood up, fully exposed to the night, he knew at that place was only one thing left to do. He had learned once that animals marked their territory with piss because uric acid was the most potent-smelling fluid the human body made.More potent than blood, he hoped. need hed had a few more beers tonight, Corky heaved his injured leg up onto the gunwale and tried to pretend on the duct tape. Come on He waited. Nothing like the pressure of having to piss all over yourself with a helicopter chasing you.Finally it came. Corky urinated all over the duct tape, soaking it fully. He used what little was left in his bladder to soak a rag, which he then swathed across his entire body. Very pleasant.In the dark sky overhead, a red laser beam appeared, sloped toward him like the shimmering blade of an enormous guillotine. The chopper appeared from an oblique angle, the pilot apparently confused that Corky had looped back toward the Goya.Quickly donning a high-float life vest, Corky moved to the rear of the speeding craft. On the boats bloodstained floor, only five feet from where Corky was standing, a glowing red dot appeared.It was time.Onboard the Goya, Michael Tolland did not see his Crestliner Phantom 2100 flare out in flames and tumble through the air in a cartwheel of fire and smoke.