Page 100 of Clive Cussler Ghost Soldier

“And that would be?”

“That plan of yours only works if we don’t get our heads blown off by that Terminator spider—or whatever other murder toys the Vendor has cranked up out there.”

“A minor detail.” Juan slung his rifle.

Their assigned flag was still half a mile away. They had opted to take the more arduous route, preferring to stay under the cover of the jungle canopy with its thick roots and fallen logs rather than using the well-worn, open-air footpath just beyond it.

They had both ducked for cover and drew their pistols twenty minutes earlier when they heard the thundering footsteps of a man approaching from behind on the footpath. But it was only the Nigerian racing toward the entrance to the city.

Fascinated by his bold approach, Juan and Linc opted to watch his episode unfold. The twin explosions several minutes later told them it hadn’t gone his way.

While Linc continued scanning the sky, Juan pulled out his sat phone and powered it back up. It was now at eighty-eight percent. Plenty of power. The screen flashed the same “SEARCHING FOR SATELLITE” message.

“Still a no-go?” Linc asked.

“Yeah.” Juan pocketed the sat phone, but didn’t power it down this time. His mind was fixated on an engineering puzzle.

“Problem?” Linc asked.

“You mean other than the fact we’re trapped on an island with eleven—strike that, ten—psychopathic killers and an eight-legged Terminator spider robot?”

“Yeah. Other than that.”

“Our sat signals are blocked, but those drones took out the Nigerian.”

“So I noticed.”

“But drones normally use sat signals—GPS, GLONASS, whatever—for navigation and remote operations.”

“Our radios work fine. Plata hasn’t shut his yapper since we left. He’s had more airtime than Wolfman Jack.”

“Exactly. That means those drones are on radio frequencies.”

Juan opened up his combat leg and pulled out a sandwich-sized device. He unfolded it, forming a small tablet with a titanium backing and ultrathin bendable glass. He lifted it for Linc to see.

“Behold the Mini-Sniffer, Murph and Stoney’s latest invention.”

Linc’s eyes widened with disbelief. “Mini-Sniffer? As in theOregon’s electromagnetic vacuum cleaner?”

“Precisely. Doesn’t have the range and can’t process as wide a variety of signals, but it should do the trick when it comes to radio frequencies.”

Juan powered up the Mini-Sniffer. Nanoseconds later the display booted up and automatically searched for signals. A huge number of hits popped up.

“We’re loaded with two point four and five gigahertz signals,” Juan said. “Both are perfect for cameras and remote controls. The five gigahertz is even better for first-person video.”

“The kind that drones use,” Linc said. “Can you access any of those signals? Give us a chance to see what they’re seeing?”

“That’s the plan.” Juan scrolled through the list.

“But…can’t the drones lock on the sat phone signal?”

Juan grinned as he scrolled. “You worried I’m painting a target on our backs?”

“The thought had crossed my mind.”

Juan shook his head. “Not an issue. This phone uses advanced signal hopping. No way for a drone to lock on it. Wait. There.” Juan finally reached the 5 GHz signal list and selected one of them.

“Crap. Should’ve seen that coming.”