Deception Point Page 82

Now they would wait.This would not be a quiet kill. There were some people you simply did not kill quietly. Regardless of the method, there would be repercussions. Investigations. Inquiries. In these cases, the best c everyplace was to make a lot of noise. Explosions, fire, and smoke made it appear you were making a statement, and the first thought would be outside terrorism. Especially when the target was a high-profile official.Delta-One scanned the night-vision transmission of the tree-shrouded memorial below. The parking lot and entry road were empty. Soon, he thought. The location of this private meeting, though in an urban area, was fortuitously desolate at this hour. Delta-One turned his eyes from the screen to his own weapons controls.The Hellfire system would be the weapon of choice tonight. A laser-guided, anti-armor missile, the Hellfire provided fire-and-forget capability. The roquette could home in on a laser spot that was projected from ground observers, other aircraf t, or the launching aircraft itself. Tonight, the missile would be guided autonomously by the laser designator in a mast-mounted sight. Once the Kiowas designator had painted the target with a laser beam, the Hellfire missile would be self-directing. Because the Hellfire could be fired every from the air or ground, its employment here tonight would not necessarily imply an aircrafts involvement. In addition, the Hellfire was a popular munition among black-market ordnance store dealers, so terrorist activity could certainly be blamed.Sedan, Delta-Two said.Delta-One glanced at the transmission screen. A nondescript, black luxury sedan was approaching on the access road on the nose on schedule. This was the typical motor pool car of large government agencies. The driver dimmed the cars head diminishs on entering the memorial. The car circled several times and whence parked near a grove of trees. Delta-One watched the screen as his partner trained the telescopic night vision on the drivers side window. After a moment, the persons face came into view.Delta-One pull a quick breath. get confirmed, his partner said.Delta-One looked at the night-vision screen-with its deadly crucifix of cross-hairs-and he felt like a sniper aiming at royalty. tush confirmed.Delta-Two turned to the left side avionics compartment and activated the laser designator. He aimed, and two thousand feet below, a pinpoint of light appeared on the roof of the sedan, invisible to the occupant. Target painted, he said.Delta-One took a deep breath. He fired.A sharp hissing sound sizzled beneath the fuselage, followed by a remarkably dim trail of light streaking toward the earth. One second later, the car in the parking lot blew apart in a blinding eruption of flames. Twisted metal flew everywhere. Burning tires furled into the woods.Kill complete, Delta-One said, already accelerating the helicopter away from the area. Call the controller.Less than two miles away, President Zach Herney was prep aring for bed. The Lexan bullet-proof windows of the residence were an inch thick. Herney neer heard the blast.97The Coast watch over Group Air Station Atlantic City is located in a secure section of William J. Hughes Federal Aviation Administration Technical core at the Atlantic City International Airport. The groups area of responsibility includes the Atlantic seaboard from Asbury Park to Cape May.Rachel Sexton jolted awake as the planes tires screeched pile on the tarmac of the lone runway nestled between two enormous cargo buildings. Surprised to find she had fallen asleep, Rachel groggily checked her watch.213 A.M. She felt like shed been asleep for days.A warm onboard blanket was tucked carefully around her, and Michael Tolland was also just waking up beside her. He gave her a weary smile.Corky staggered up the aisle and frowned when he saw them. Shit, you guys are still here? I woke up hoping tonight had been a bad dream.Rachel knew scarcely how he felt. Im headed back o ut to sea.The plane taxied to a stop, and Rachel and the others climbed out onto a barren runway. The night was over-cast, but the chuteal air felt heavy and warm. In comparison to Ellesmere, New Jersey felt like the tropics.Over here a voice called out.Rachel and the others turned to see one of the Coast Guards classic, crimson-colored HH-65 Dolphin helicopters time lag nearby. Framed by the brilliant white stripe on the choppers tail, a fully suited pilot burner waved them over.Tolland gave Rachel an im touch nod. Your boss certainly gets things done.You have no idea, she thought.Corky slumped. Already? No dinner stop?The pilot welcomed them over and helped them aboard. Never asking their names, he spoke exclusively in pleasantries and safety precautions. Pickering had on the face of it made it clear to the Coast Guard that this flight was not an advertised mission. Nonetheless, despite Pickerings discretion, Rachel could see that their identities had remained a secret for onl y a matter of seconds the pilot failed to hide his wide-eyed double take upon seeing television celebrity Michael Tolland.Rachel was already smack tense as she buckled herself in beside Tolland. The Aerospatiale engine overhead shout to life, and the Dolphins sagging thirty-nine-foot rotors began to flatten out into a silver blur. The whine turned to a roar, and it lifted off the runway, climbing into the night.The pilot turned in the cockpit and called out, I was informed you would tell me your destination once we were airborne.Tolland gave the pilot the coordinates of an offshore location about thirty miles southeast of their current position.His ship is twelve miles off the coast, Rachel thought, feeling a shiver.The pilot typed the coordinates into his navigation system. Then he settled in and gunned the engines. The chopper tipped forward and banked southeast.As the dark dunes of the New Jersey coast slipped away beneath the aircraft, Rachel turned her eyes away from the blac kness of the ocean spreading out beneath her. Despite the wariness of being back over the water again, she tried to take comfort in knowing she was accompanied by a man who had made the ocean a lifetime friend. Tolland was pressed close beside her in the narrow fuselage, his hips and shoulders touching hers. Neither made any attempt to shift positions.I know I shouldnt say this, the pilot sputtered suddenly, as if ready to burst with excitement, but youre obviously Michael Tolland, and Ive got to say, well, weve been watching you on TV all night The meteorite Its absolutely incredible You must be in bewildermentTolland nodded patiently. Speechless.The documentary was fantastic You know, the networks deem playing it over and over. None of tonights duty pilots wanted this gig because everyone wanted to keep watching television, but I drew short straw. Can you believe it Short straw And here I am If the boys had any idea Id be flying the actual-We appreciate the ride, Rachel interrup ted, and we need you to keep our presence here to yourself. Nobodys supposed to know were here.Absolutely, maam. My orders were very clear. The pilot hesitated, and then his expression brightened. Hey, we arent by any chance heading for the Goya, are we?Tolland gave a indisposed nod. We are.Holy shit the pilot exclaimed. Excuse me. Sorry, but Ive seen her on your show. The twin-hull, right? Strange-looking beast Ive never actually been on a SWATH design. I never dreamed yours would be the firstRachel tuned the man out, feeling a rising uneasiness to be heading out to sea.