“They're coming in. To get rid of these hoodlums."
"Well, good luck. But the man who saved me, what was his name? He mentioned something about it. Then he disappeared. I don't-"
“That's who blew up the gantry. His name is Vance." She quickly recounted the story. "I told him not to blow it up, but he didn't listen. All he accomplished was to make things worse." She was so outraged she could barely speak. The idiot! The fuck-up!
Mannheim's mind seemed to be clearing. "A countdown. But why would Georges-?"
"He isn't involved, at least I don't think so. He's been replaced by one of their people. They've taken over Big Benny, somebody who knows how to run SORT."
Mannheim exhaled. "Then, what are we supposed to do?"
"It gets worse. Not only is the gantry gone, but I'm afraid they've taken Mike prisoner."
"Mike?" He was still trying to get his bearings.
"Vance." She was suddenly embarrassed by the implied familiarity. Isaac, she noted, hadn't missed it, and he raised an eyebrow. "Look," she continued, "he may be dead by now, who knows. But I want to get you out of here, and then try to raise ARM on the radio. They were going to delay everything for a day, but now they've got to get in here and stop the launch." She paused, shaking from the strain. "Isaac, I'm not as strong as I thought I was." Her voice quavered. "I'm scared to death. For you, for Bill, for Georges, for Mike. For all of us. Even worse, I'm scared for the world."
"What do you mean?" He was finally coming alive. With a faint groan he rubbed his glassy eyes and brushed back his mane of white hair.
"I've got a sneaking suspicion that those bastards have put a nuclear weapon in the payload bay of VX-1."
"Good God. And now you say the gantry is gone? How will we get it down?"
"Look, let's not worry about that part just yet. We just have to stop them from going through with the countdown. We can disarm the bomb later."
"All right, then." He was on the side of his bed, searching for his shoes. "Get me out of here."
She led him out into the darkened hallway. The separate rooms were all locked, giving no clue who was still around. Where was the SatCom security staff? she suddenly wondered. Were they locked up in their own safe little enclave somewhere? Wherever they were, they wouldn't be any help now. They undoubtedly were unarmed and demoralized.
With a sigh she pushed open the door and they stepped out into the storm. Wind was tearing across the island, bringing with it the taste of the Aegean, pungent and raw. It felt cool, a refreshing purge after the stuffiness of the Bates Motel. The rain lashed their faces, cleansing away some of the feeling of the nightmare, and she knew that the few wild goats that had not been captured and removed would now be huddled in the lee behind a granite ledge they liked, bleating plaintively. There was a wildness, a freeness about Andikythera, as the winds tore across and through the granite outcroppings-and the sea churned against the timeless rocks of the shore-that made it feel like nowhere else on earth.
Get practical, she ordered herself, forget the romance. The storm would probably be over well before morning, but in the meantime it would just make things that much harder for ARM to reach the island. If they made it at all, it would be around dawn, just in time to watch the launch. Damn Vance.