Dark Star. Don Pendleton

that we know the sequence of the strikes?” he asked hopefully, concentrating on the task at hand.

      “Now, I just know where you’re going with that question,” the Man said, giving a half smile. “And the answer is yes. Compose Island, Rocket City and Cape Canaveral were all hit at the exact same moment, so we’re facing at least three X-ships, with possibly more of them being held in reserve.

      “Currently, the Army Corps of Engineers is working on emergency repairs of the facilities,” the President continued, “but it will take several weeks before we’re able to put anything into space again. Maybe a month.”

      “A month we don’t have.” Brognola leaned back in the chair. Christ, in a week these things could smash civilization apart. “And I’ll assume that I’ve heard nothing of this on the radio, cable TV or the Internet because the nations involved are trying to keep a tight lid on the matter and prevent a panic.”

      “Exactly. No police force in the world could control the rioting if the news of the X-ships was released. This matter must be handled covertly, as quietly as possible.”

      “Agreed, sir. Secrecy is mandatory. Too bad nobody was able to shoot one down. We could have learned a lot from the wreckage.”

      “Hal, everybody shot at them,” the President said surprisingly. “But bullets did nothing and heat-seekers went straight past the X-ships without even slowing.”

      “But they ride a column of fire larger than the Statue of Liberty! How is that possible?”

      “Unknown, and part of your assignment,” the President said. Just then, a light flashed on his intercom and the man stabbed it with a stiff finger to turn off the distraction. If it was anything of importance, his secretary would come into the office. “At the moment, Homeland Security is working with the Pentagon to try to come up with some sort of defense, a way to beat the radar shield of the X-ships. From the sheer volume of their engine exhaust, these things must be flying fuel tanks, so a single missile should blow them to hell.”

      “But a missile can’t destroy what can’t be seen,” Brognola finished. The combination of stealth technology and the vertical flight path of the X-ships made them virtually unstoppable.

      “The FBI is checking into the major corporations still interested in trying to build an SSO—Armadillo Aerospace in Texas, Blue Horizons in California, and the like,” the President went on, templing his fingers. “The CIA is doing the same thing overseas, with Army Intelligence investigating our known enemies in Europe, Navy Intelligence doing the Middle East and Africa, with Air Force Intelligence concentrating on South America.” He paused. “Especially Brazil.”

      “Understood,” Brognola declared. “Just because they were the first place hit, that doesn’t mean they’re not actually behind everything and just trying to throw off suspicion.”

      “Precisely.” The President frowned. “Now, what I want from Stony Man is for your people to hit the underground, the crime cartels, drug lords and arms dealers.”

      “Understood, sir. Somebody paid a fortune to build these things, and it will cost even more to maintain them.”

      “Precisely,” the President said, sliding over the sealed manila envelope. “Here is all of the data that we have, copies of the cell phone video, security logs and such, along with all of the information on the Delta Clipper experiments.”

      Accepting the envelope, Brognola noted the security seals were still in place. If it had been opened, the white band along the top would have turned red in only a few seconds.

       Damn, it was slim , he thought.

      “Yes, I know.” The President sighed unhappily. “That’s not much to go on, but…”

      “It’ll be enough,” the big Fed stated confidently, rising to his feet once more. “And if not, we’ll get the rest from these murdering bastards just before we shovel them into the dirt.”

      “Move fast on this, Hal,” the President said earnestly. “The only possible reason that these X-ships ran a sneak attack on every launch facility was that they don’t want us putting anything into space that might challenge them. Because if they manage to hold the high ground…”

      “We lose,” Brognola said bluntly, feeling a surge of cold adrenaline in his gut. “Plain and simple. We lose the whole goddamn world.”

      Lifting the telephone receiver, the President waited for only a moment before speaking. “Captain, please head for Dulles airport at once. And I want an immediate take-off as soon as our passenger has disembarked…no, we’ll refuel in the air over Pennsylvania…yes, thank you.” He set down the receiver. “Twenty minutes, Hal.”

      Brognola grunted and tucked the folder inside his jacket. Unbidden, the earlier scenes on the wall monitor playing over and over in his mind. It seemed that World War III had started, and the good guys had lost the first battle.

      Now everything depended on Stony Man.

       CHAPTER TWO

       Stony Man Farm, Virginia

      In a rush of warm air, the Black Hawk helicopter set down on Stony Man Farm’s helipad. The side hatch was thrown aside and Hal Brognola stepped out clutching a slim manila envelope.

      Waiving away the driver of the SUV who would have taken him to the farm house, the big Fed decided to walk the short distance.

      By the time he reached the building the door was open and Barbara Price, mission controller, stood on the threshold.

      “Here, you better see this,” Brognola said, thrusting the envelope forward.

      “Already have,” Price said, pushing it back. “Aaron and his people are hard at work doing an analysis, and I’ve recalled both teams from their current assignments.”

      “Excellent,” Brognola said, tucking the envelope away once more. He was not really surprised that the woman was already familiar with the report. Before being recruited into Stony Man, Barbara Price had been a top operative for the NSA. The woman led him into the farm house.

      “Are those infrared cameras?” Hal asked as they walked across the spacious room.

      Price nodded in acknowledgment. “I don’t know if it will give us a warning in enough time to respond, but it’s the best we could come up with in an hour.”

      Reaching the elevator bank, Brognola pressed the call button. “Not bad, but just in case…” The doors opened and they stepped inside.

      “I already have several auxiliary video cameras in the barn set to only see in the ultraviolet spectrum,” Price told him as the doors silently closed. “Once again, I have no idea if it will help, but…” She shrugged, leaving the sentence unfinished.

      “Well, if it works, we can relay the information to all of our military installations, as well as every friendly nation,” Brognola replied as the car began to descend. “Unfortunately, any civilian targets these bastards hit won’t have that sort of equipment.”

      “Yes, I know,” Price stated. “But Aaron has his people working on a few ideas about that.”

      “Good to know. The one thing we don’t have is a lot of time.”

      The elevator reached the bottom of the shaft and the doors opened with a musical chime. As they exited into a long corridor, Brognola noted the extra blacksuits standing guard. “Expecting trouble?” he asked pointedly.

      “Always,” she replied grimly.

      As the pair passed a staff room, Brognola could see that it was empty, the break table covered with half-filled cups of steaming coffee, along with partially eaten doughnuts and sandwiches. Mounted in the corner of the ceiling was a flat-screen monitor showing a local news anchor talking excitedly into a microphone and standing in front of a smoky view of Cape Canaveral.

      “Damn,