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“Since when do you doubt Max’s judgment?”
“Let me put it to you this way,” Kurt said. “Vaughn has a supercomputer just like Max. Assuming his computer isn’t directionally challenged, it should be able to tell in one millisecond whether the radar sweeps overlap correctly.”
“Yeah,” Joe said, not liking where this was heading. “And…”
“And the idea that Vaughn would leave them arranged in a way that creates a blind spot makes little sense.”
Joe hesitated. “What are you saying?”
“Maybe Vaughndidmake a mistake,” Kurt suggested. “Or maybe it’s a trap. This course we’re holding has us running in a dead-straight line that allows almost no maneuvering to either side. It’s got us pinned against the deck.”
Joe shook his head at the idea, and then quickly remembered that wasn’t a good thing to do with night vision gear on. “These are the kind of things I need you to tell me before we take off. Do you think they could be tracking us?”
“Not tracking us,” Kurt said. “Otherwise you’d be getting pings on that radar detector of yours.”
Before they left, Joe had built a makeshift radar detector out of spare parts from the ship’s stores. It would light up if any of the known bands of radar used to target missiles swept across the helicopter. So far it had remained dark. Joe hoped it was working.
“So if they’re not tracking us, what are you worried about?”
“Good old human eyeballs,” Kurt said. “By making it seem like this is a free path to the island, they create a likely approach point, and one that can easily be watched over by men or women with those knockoff Stinger missiles.”
“Tell me you have a countermeasure for this possibility in your stash of backpacks?”
Kurt had spent the last two hours aboard theAkesogathering items from all over the ship. He’d been to the radio room, the mess hall, and one of the lifeboat muster stations. Joe had watched him squirreling things away in a number of backpacks, which he labeled and loaded one by one. The assortment was odd, and Joe had given up guessing what Kurt was up to, instead focusing on his own duties. Now he hoped Kurt had somehow been one step ahead of the two computers.
“We’ll see in a moment,” Kurt said. “Our Stingers have a range of five miles. If the Chinese version is similar, I would expect the fireworks to begin any moment.”
“Great,” Joe said. “Maybe we should ditch now.”
“If they’re watching, they’ve seen us already,” Kurt said. “In that case, we might as well let them shoot us down.”
“That’s the worst pep talk ever,” Joe said. “But I get what you’re saying.”
Kurt laughed and moved to the edge of the cabin, dragging one of the backpacks with him and setting it down in front of him. He opened the top, revealing a pair of flare guns taken from the lifeboat station.
He dropped to one knee, pulled the flare guns from the pack, and made sure they were set to use. With one in his hand and one beside him, he grabbed a handhold and looked out the door.
The island remained dark and quiet. Somewhere up there was a cave through which Five and his brothers had escaped with the help of someone who’d placed a boat there for them.
Not someone, he reminded himself.The Gray Witch.He wondered who she was and what she had to do with Vaughn. And for that matter, how she knew so much about NUMA.
More important, he wondered how, on an island covered withsurveillance cameras, swarmed over by drones, and patrolled by men with dogs, she’d managed to remain hidden.
A pinpoint of light flared in one corner of the island, breaking Kurt’s train of thought. The streak brightened and elongated, its effect magnified by the night vision goggles.
“Missile launch,” Joe called out.
Kurt locked in on what looked like a streaking ball of fire coming their way. They were five miles out. Considering the acceleration phase of the rocket, they might have ten seconds before it hit.
“I hate being right,” Kurt said.
“No you don’t,” Joe shot back. Kurt grabbed the second flare gun, aimed both of them out the door, and pulled the triggers simultaneously. “Hard over,” he called out.
Joe was already turning and adding power.
Kurt held tight, watching as the approaching missile veered off to the left, chasing the flares. A flash lit the night as its proximity fuse went off. Two seconds later Kurt heard and felt the concussion wave.
The flash of light lit up the sky. Darkness swept back in a moment later.
“Let me put it to you this way,” Kurt said. “Vaughn has a supercomputer just like Max. Assuming his computer isn’t directionally challenged, it should be able to tell in one millisecond whether the radar sweeps overlap correctly.”
“Yeah,” Joe said, not liking where this was heading. “And…”
“And the idea that Vaughn would leave them arranged in a way that creates a blind spot makes little sense.”
Joe hesitated. “What are you saying?”
“Maybe Vaughndidmake a mistake,” Kurt suggested. “Or maybe it’s a trap. This course we’re holding has us running in a dead-straight line that allows almost no maneuvering to either side. It’s got us pinned against the deck.”
Joe shook his head at the idea, and then quickly remembered that wasn’t a good thing to do with night vision gear on. “These are the kind of things I need you to tell me before we take off. Do you think they could be tracking us?”
“Not tracking us,” Kurt said. “Otherwise you’d be getting pings on that radar detector of yours.”
Before they left, Joe had built a makeshift radar detector out of spare parts from the ship’s stores. It would light up if any of the known bands of radar used to target missiles swept across the helicopter. So far it had remained dark. Joe hoped it was working.
“So if they’re not tracking us, what are you worried about?”
“Good old human eyeballs,” Kurt said. “By making it seem like this is a free path to the island, they create a likely approach point, and one that can easily be watched over by men or women with those knockoff Stinger missiles.”
“Tell me you have a countermeasure for this possibility in your stash of backpacks?”
Kurt had spent the last two hours aboard theAkesogathering items from all over the ship. He’d been to the radio room, the mess hall, and one of the lifeboat muster stations. Joe had watched him squirreling things away in a number of backpacks, which he labeled and loaded one by one. The assortment was odd, and Joe had given up guessing what Kurt was up to, instead focusing on his own duties. Now he hoped Kurt had somehow been one step ahead of the two computers.
“We’ll see in a moment,” Kurt said. “Our Stingers have a range of five miles. If the Chinese version is similar, I would expect the fireworks to begin any moment.”
“Great,” Joe said. “Maybe we should ditch now.”
“If they’re watching, they’ve seen us already,” Kurt said. “In that case, we might as well let them shoot us down.”
“That’s the worst pep talk ever,” Joe said. “But I get what you’re saying.”
Kurt laughed and moved to the edge of the cabin, dragging one of the backpacks with him and setting it down in front of him. He opened the top, revealing a pair of flare guns taken from the lifeboat station.
He dropped to one knee, pulled the flare guns from the pack, and made sure they were set to use. With one in his hand and one beside him, he grabbed a handhold and looked out the door.
The island remained dark and quiet. Somewhere up there was a cave through which Five and his brothers had escaped with the help of someone who’d placed a boat there for them.
Not someone, he reminded himself.The Gray Witch.He wondered who she was and what she had to do with Vaughn. And for that matter, how she knew so much about NUMA.
More important, he wondered how, on an island covered withsurveillance cameras, swarmed over by drones, and patrolled by men with dogs, she’d managed to remain hidden.
A pinpoint of light flared in one corner of the island, breaking Kurt’s train of thought. The streak brightened and elongated, its effect magnified by the night vision goggles.
“Missile launch,” Joe called out.
Kurt locked in on what looked like a streaking ball of fire coming their way. They were five miles out. Considering the acceleration phase of the rocket, they might have ten seconds before it hit.
“I hate being right,” Kurt said.
“No you don’t,” Joe shot back. Kurt grabbed the second flare gun, aimed both of them out the door, and pulled the triggers simultaneously. “Hard over,” he called out.
Joe was already turning and adding power.
Kurt held tight, watching as the approaching missile veered off to the left, chasing the flares. A flash lit the night as its proximity fuse went off. Two seconds later Kurt heard and felt the concussion wave.
The flash of light lit up the sky. Darkness swept back in a moment later.
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