Страница 86 из 97
The field where they would meet the Osprey was well west of the house, and could be approached without ru
413
any of the antiaircraft guns, most of which were closer to the house. Zen would fly by two of the guns, but the radar experts believed that his profile would be small enough, and low enough, that the radar used by the weapons would completely miss him. The guns could be visually sighted, but that took time and would be hard in the dark.
Three trips. In theory, Zen could do it all in an hour, once he landed.
The question was how close together would theory and reality fall.
Voda hadn’t called back. The mission would be scrubbed if they didn’t hear from him.
As Dog flew EB-52 Be
“Hey, Zen, why didn’t you tell us you were on your way?”
said Spiff, getting up from his radar station as Zen crawled toward him.
“I didn’t think it would be worth the trouble.”
“Jeez, let me help you.”
Zen knew from experience that the sight of a grown man crawling along the floor u
“I just need a hand getting strapped in,” he said, pushing up into the seat. “I’m hoping I fit.”
As Zen pressed himself into the seat, he glanced up at the outlines of the hatch he was going to be shot through. It looked terribly small.
He turned his attention back to his gear, taking one last inventory. He slapped his hand down to the survival knife in the scabbard pocket at his thigh, then slipped his hand into his vest, making sure his Beretta was easily accessible.
“Let’s get this show on the road,” he said. “I’m ready to fly.”
414
DALE BROWN’S DREAMLAND
* * *
“SECURE ANYTHING LOOSE,” DOG TOLD THE CREW. “MAKE
sure your oxygen masks are nice and snug. Get your gloves on. Not only is it going to get noisy and windy in here, but it’ll be cold too.”
“We’re ready, Colonel,” said Sullivan.
“We have to work our way down to altitude gradually.
There’ll be no rushing,” added Dog. “Everybody check your gear one last time, make sure the oxygen is tight and you have a green on the suit system.”
He checked his own restraints, then glanced at his watch, intending to give the rest of the crew a full minute.
“Sullivan, you ready?” Dog asked.
“Ready, Colonel.”
“Spiff?”
“Good to go.”
“Rager?”
“Ready, sir.”
“Zen?”
“Roger that.”
“All right. Let’s find out where the hell our rescuee is,” said Dog, tapping the Dreamland Command line.
Presidential villa,
near Stulpicani, Romania
0130
A CLUMP OF PRICKLE BUSHES HAD GROWN UP AROUND A fallen tree about fifty yards from the bald spot on the hill.
The brush formed an L, with the long end extending almost straight down. Not only did the bushes provide cover, but they also cut down on the wind, which seemed to Voda much stronger on this side of the hill.
The pain in his knee had settled to a sharp throb that REVOLUTION
415
moved in unison with his breath. He passed the cell phone from one hand to another, staring at it. His fingers were numb.
“What’s going on?” Mircea asked.
“I’m calling the Americans back,” he told her.
Now he couldn’t remember any part of the number. He could feel the panic rising in his chest. Part of him wanted to fling the phone down and simply run up the hill. He’d shout, make himself a target, run at the soldiers, let them kill him.
It would be a relief.
He wasn’t going to do that. He was going to get his family out of there. And then he was going to save his country.
Voda began working through the unfamiliar menus to find recently dialed calls. The number was there.
Reverse the last two digits. That was the problem.
He could just call the ambassador, have him make the transfer again.
He tried reversing the digits first. A man answered immediately.
“President Voda, I’m very glad you’re able to call,” said the man in a bright, southwestern-tinted American accent. “You are working with some of the best people in the business.
We’ll have you out of there before you can sing your national anthem.”
Voda didn’t know what to say, nor did he have a chance as the man continued breathlessly.
“My name is Mack Smith and I’m going to making the communications co
“You are sending a helicopter?”
416
DALE BROWN’S DREAMLAND
“Not exactly. I’ll let Zen give you the dope. Now. You ready?”
Voda was confused by Mack’s slang as well as his accent.
“OK,” he replied.
“Here we go.”
There was a slight delay, then a new voice came on the line.
“President Voda, this is Colonel Tecumseh Bastian. Do you recognize my name, sir?”
“Yes, Colonel. You are very famous. You head the Dreamland squadron.”
“Yes, sir. I’m in a plane a few miles from the hill where you are. In just a few minutes one of my men is going to pick you up.”
“By helicopter?”
“No, sir. We’re afraid it would be shot down. What’s going to happen is this: One of my men will rendezvous with you on the ground. He’ll be wearing a special device that you can think of as a jet pack. He’ll fly you and your family one by one to safety.”
A jet pack?
“If it will work—” started Voda. He didn’t get a chance to finish the thought.
“It will work, sir. But we need your help. We’d like you to go to a point where it will be easy to find you. There’s a bald spot near the crest of the hill, on the far side of the hill, that is, from your house.”
“I can’t go there. The soldiers are there.”
“All right. We have alternatives.”
He heard Dog take a hard breath.
“A little farther down the hill there’s a creek,” said Dog.
“It’s either completely dry or just about; it’s hard to tell from the satellite photo I’ve seen. But it’s wide, and it takes a sharp turn down the hill and there’s an open space in the woods.
Can you go there?”
“I—I don’t know where it is.”
REVOLUTION
417
“If you were at the bald spot, it’s exactly 232 meters below it, and fifteen meters to the north, which would be on your right if you were looking downhill. Does that help?”
“Yes,” said Voda. He could find it simply by going down the hill. The creak bed should be obvious; when they hit it, he would turn right.
“I need you to stay on the line,” added Dog. “I know you’re worried about being found or ru
Mircea and Julian were huddled against him. He could feel them shaking. If this didn’t work, they would freeze to death.
“All right, I’ll try,” said Voda, struggling to his feet. “We’re on our way.”
Aboard EB-52 Be
above northeastern Romania
0130
EVEN THOUGH HE KNEW IT WAS COMING, THE JOLT FROM
the seat as it shot upward took Zen’s breath away. The shock was so hard that for a second he thought he’d hit the side of the hatch going out. Zen hurtled up into a black void, the sky rushing into his head like the water from a bathtub surging into a drain. The seat fell away, the restraints cut by knives as he shot up, but he didn’t notice; to him, the only thing he could feel was the roar in his body, as if he had become a rocket.