Delta Green - [61]

“Of the five possible Soviet Mako pilots who could have hijacked the MakoShark, Aleksander Maslov appears to be the strongest candidate because of his past associations with Shelepin. He has a strong record in MiG-23 Floggers and MiG-29 Fulcrums, and he has combat experience in Afghanistan. He washed out of the Mako program because his superiors didn’t think he had enough self-discipline. He was too willing to risk his backseater and his passengers. We’re still trying to track the remaining four pilots, and one or more of them could also be involved.

“That’s good, Amy,” Haggar said. “But there’s no hint about motivation yet?”

“Not yet, Lynn.”

“We know one thing,” McKenna said. “Whatever it is, it’s going to be space-based.”

“How so, jefe?” Munoz asked.

“They went to the trouble of capturing a shipment of fuel pellets. That suggests to me that a few trips into orbit are planned.”

“The odds,” Haggar said, “favor the HoneyBee still being in orbit. Somewhere.”

“So they’ve got to come out here to refuel,” Will Conover added.

“The odds also favor,” Pearson said, “a land base somewhere in Southeast Asia for three reasons. It’s close to the hijack site, Colonel McKenna spotted them once in the area, and they nearly flew into a trap we set off Vietnam.”

“So we’re going to adopt a lie-in-wait philosophy,” McKenna said. “We can’t take Themis stationary, but the Jet Propulsion Laboratory is going to reposition some infrared-detecting satellites over Southeast Asia. We’re going to put a MakoShark out there, too, watching for an eight-or nine-minute rocket burn. That, we can see.

“It’ll be boring as hell, but we’ll set it up in six-hour shifts, rotating back here for rest periods. Will, you and Do-Wop get the first shift, and Lynn and Ben go second. Tony and I will do the wrap-up.”

“Except,” Pearson said, “I need to go Earth-side, and none of the Makos are available. I also need someone to pilot a Lear for me once I get there.”

McKenna studied her for a moment, then said, “That’s us, then, Tony. Get suited up.”

Haggar thought Pearson was going to protest for some reason, then decided to keep her mouth shut.

Which was usually the best course.

USSC-1

McKenna had Benny Shalbot install a passenger module in the aft bay of Delta Blue, and by the time he was finished, Pearson appeared, all dolled up in a unisex environmental suit and helmet.

Shalbot helped her get settled in the module while McKenna and Munoz pulled themselves down into their cockpits and began to strap in and hook up.

“Hey, compadre?”

“Yeah, Tony.”

“There’s somethin’ I’ve been meanin’ to ask you. What the hell…?”

“Don’t ask, Tony. Put your helmet on.”

He locked his own helmet in place and then secured his shoulder restraints and connected the environmental and communications lines. He powered up the instrument panel and computers.

Shalbot, rising from below, appeared alongside him. “You can close the bay doors, Colonel.”

He did so. “Thanks, Benny.”

“Have a good trip,” Shalbot said and pushed off for the hatchway.

“You on the line, Amy?” Munoz asked on the intercom.

“I’m here.”

She wasn’t going to be very talkative, McKenna thought, and didn’t blame her. He was assuming she had permission from Overton to go to Wet Country, but he wasn’t going to ask her about it. He was a trifle leery of the temper that came with the red hair.

Polly Tang worked them out of the hangar, and Munoz and his computer came up with the reentry solution. They had a sixteen minute wait for the window.

Sixteen minutes of silence.

Munoz offered to put Silence of the Lambs or Raise the Titanic on her video screen.

“No, thank you, Tony.”

“Geez,” Munoz said.

The reentry was exceptionally smooth, except for burning the nose cone off of a Wasp II, and the landing at Merlin Air Base was accomplished at 0712 hours, Borneo time.

Once they were towed inside Hangar One, and the passenger module opened, Pearson climbed down the short ladder and stretched muscles that hadn’t been subjected to gravity for some time.

It was a nice stretchy despite the environmental suit, McKenna thought.

She had all the help she needed from a half-dozen technicians in getting her helmet off.

“Are you going to fly the Lear, Colonel?”

“Of course, Amy. Where are we going?”

“Phnom Penh.”

“Damn,” Tony Munoz said. “I’ve gotta go check my log and see if that’s one of the cities I’ve been told not to come back to.”

Chapter Twelve

USAF LEARJET

“Take it, Tiger”

“Uno momento, amigo. They didn’t make me a pilot, remember?”

“They made you an electronics watcher. Watch the autopilot.”

“Ah!”

The Gates Learjet was at twenty thousand feet above the South China Sea, purring like a kitten, and even if she turned into a wildcat, McKenna had faith in Munoz’s ability to handle an emergency.

He crawled out of the left seat, pushed through the curtain separating the cockpit from the cabin, and crouched as he made his way back to Pearson.

He sat in the rear-facing seat opposite her. The small table between the seats was raised, and she had a dozen files spread over it.

She watched him with grave green eyes.