Page 37 of Radar

“DIA.” Xander held up his credentials. “Are you here for me?”

“Guy with a dog and silver bag is going to burst through the door, run him over to the field,” the guy repeated his orders.

Xander looked around for a golf cart-type deal and saw none. “Guess we’re going to actually be running,” he said, lifting his chin to ask for a direction.

The guy pointed northwest, and they broke into a fast-paced jog.

“What’s going on with the binoculars?” Xander asked, remembering how the flight crew had all lifted to their feet and looked out the window.

“The tower lost communications with the planes,” he said breathlessly.

“The planes? All the planes? There’s no contact at all?” Xander looked down at the briefcase.

Orest, you son of a bitch.

If this were a Zoric play, could it betheZoric play?

Or maybe there was something bigger and they needed a distraction. It would, for sure, cause all hell to break loose, and everyone’s eyes would be focused here.

Loss of communications with the pilots at this hub of activity was beyond disastrous. At that moment, thousands of lives were at risk.

This could be another 9-11.

Would there be a war?

Damned straight there would be.

As they got to the end of the macadam, and Xander had his foot on the grass, he yelled, “Don’t follow me. Find shelter.”

The guard didn’t need to be asked twice. He bolted as if he were on fire.

As Xander stepped off the macadam, the air around him became acrid. “Radar, down stay.”

Radar slammed to a stop, lying on his belly.

With his elbow pulled across his nose and mouth, squinting his eyes to protect them from whatever was seeping from the case, Xander raced full out to get as far from humanity as possible.

In the middle of the field, Xander dropped the case, stepped back, and, crouching low, called Hiro, giving him a quick sketch of what was happening.

“Acid? Can you open the bag without burning yourself?” Hiro growled.

As soon as Xander popped the locks, he jumped back.

So far, nothing blew.

Radar yipped and barked but stayed where he’d been told.

Using a tactical pen from the side pocket of his own backpack, Xander lifted the lid, but he already knew what he was going to find. He told Hiro. “I’m watching everything melt.”

There was nothing to be done about it.

This was the same technology that child porn collectors used on their computers and thumb drives. If the password was entered incorrectly three times, the acid was released, and everything was obliterated as it melted into a gooey mess that quickly solidified.

Xander glanced at his watch.

Now here was the question: was the communications glitch between the tower and the pilots caused by Orest Kalinsky? It fit right in with a typical Zoric style of attacks. If this was the apparatus causing the problem, Orest might have cut that operation very close. After all, he was one of the planes in the sky.

Walking far enough away that neither he nor Radar breathed in the unknown chemicals, Xander lay down, resting his head on Radar’s haunch. Waiting for the FBI to show up and collect the carry-on remains, Xander kept an eye on the clouds to make sure that if planes collided overhead, he and Radar weren’t hanging out on the crash site.