had no idea how long they would have to wait. Nor did it matter.
Instructions would come.
Instructions always came.
They spent the time swimming in the hotel pool, watching pay-per-view movies, playing video games, and making love to each other.
In New Orleans, Boy checked in to the Hotel Monteleone, ate room service food, and read three novels. When she wasn’t actively working, Boy read all day and into the evening. She was currently working her way throughthe entire works of Elmore Leonard, having just finished all the Travis McGee novels by John D. MacDonald. Reading calmed her. It allowed her energies to idle in neutral.
She did not make any calls. She did not feel the urge to check e-mails. She had no Facebook or Twitter pages. She was patient and in her patience was content to wait. Doctor Pharos would call her.
He always called.
There wasstill so much left to do.
The world was still on its hinges.
For now.
Chapter Eleven
The Resort
208 Nautical Miles West of Chile
October 13, 1:38 A.M.
“Cowboy,” came Bug’s urgent call, “be advised we have incoming.”
“Incoming what?”
“Looks like a UAV coming in low and fast.” UAV was shorthand for unmanned aerial vehicle. A drone.
He read off the coordinates and vector, indicating that it was coming from the west. From the seaward side of the island. Ihurried outside. Top and Bunny were already there, each of them fitting on their night vision.
“What’s this shit?” asked Top.
“This some Agency thing?” growled Bunny. “They have a second location out here? Another island we don’t know about?”
“Nothing on the satellite maps,” I said. “Bug, give me something. Who’s toy is this?”
“Unknown, Cowboy,” said Bug. “Definitely not one of ours. The onlydrones we have are running surveillance between here and the mainland. This one just appeared on the radar. Probably launched from a boat.”
“Boat,” echoed Bunny nervously. “Chilean navy? They could have launched one from a submarine out of Talcahuano. They got a couple of those Type 209 German-made boats.”
“Got Exocets on ’em, too,” said Top. “Don’t want to overstay our welcome and get a missileshoved up our asses, Cap’n. We ain’t supposed to be here.”
“I don’t think so,” said Bug. “This is a small signature. Don’t think it’s military. Not big enough to carry heavy weapons. Coming right at you, though. Seven miles and closing. We have two helos heading to intercept, but the UAV will get to you first.”
“Frigging drones are a pain in my ass,” said Top.
I had to agree. These days theywere everywhere. The military had a lot of them, but they were also being used not only to map streets and, by law enforcement, to conduct aerial surveillance and patrol the border but also to film sports events, take real-estate photos, and even deliver goods. Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Domino’s, Taco Bell, and hundreds of other companies had applied for licenses. The FAA kept trying to fight it,and for very good reasons. UAVs could be used to deliver a lot more than chalupas or the latest Janet Evanovich novel, but the agency was losing most of their cases.
“Still not seeing it, Bug,” said Bunny. He held a muscular AA-12 shotgun with a drum magazine. It was a monster. Fully automatic and drum-fed, it fired five 12-gauge shotgun shells per second. Very reliable, very little recoil. I’veseen Bunny fire it one-handed. And for times when a hail of hot buckshot isn’t enough of a crowd-pleaser, he could swap in another drum loaded with Frag-12 high-explosive or fragmentation grenades. He calls it Honey Boom-Boom. Bunny has issues.
We listened.
Drones are very quiet. Maybe if there weren’t a million crickets and cicadas filling the night air with their steady whistling pulse, maybe—justmaybe—we’d have heard it. Maybe not.
“Infrared,” I said, and we cycled through the Scout’s lenses until the world was painted scarlet.
“There it
Instructions would come.
Instructions always came.
They spent the time swimming in the hotel pool, watching pay-per-view movies, playing video games, and making love to each other.
In New Orleans, Boy checked in to the Hotel Monteleone, ate room service food, and read three novels. When she wasn’t actively working, Boy read all day and into the evening. She was currently working her way throughthe entire works of Elmore Leonard, having just finished all the Travis McGee novels by John D. MacDonald. Reading calmed her. It allowed her energies to idle in neutral.
She did not make any calls. She did not feel the urge to check e-mails. She had no Facebook or Twitter pages. She was patient and in her patience was content to wait. Doctor Pharos would call her.
He always called.
There wasstill so much left to do.
The world was still on its hinges.
For now.
Chapter Eleven
The Resort
208 Nautical Miles West of Chile
October 13, 1:38 A.M.
“Cowboy,” came Bug’s urgent call, “be advised we have incoming.”
“Incoming what?”
“Looks like a UAV coming in low and fast.” UAV was shorthand for unmanned aerial vehicle. A drone.
He read off the coordinates and vector, indicating that it was coming from the west. From the seaward side of the island. Ihurried outside. Top and Bunny were already there, each of them fitting on their night vision.
“What’s this shit?” asked Top.
“This some Agency thing?” growled Bunny. “They have a second location out here? Another island we don’t know about?”
“Nothing on the satellite maps,” I said. “Bug, give me something. Who’s toy is this?”
“Unknown, Cowboy,” said Bug. “Definitely not one of ours. The onlydrones we have are running surveillance between here and the mainland. This one just appeared on the radar. Probably launched from a boat.”
“Boat,” echoed Bunny nervously. “Chilean navy? They could have launched one from a submarine out of Talcahuano. They got a couple of those Type 209 German-made boats.”
“Got Exocets on ’em, too,” said Top. “Don’t want to overstay our welcome and get a missileshoved up our asses, Cap’n. We ain’t supposed to be here.”
“I don’t think so,” said Bug. “This is a small signature. Don’t think it’s military. Not big enough to carry heavy weapons. Coming right at you, though. Seven miles and closing. We have two helos heading to intercept, but the UAV will get to you first.”
“Frigging drones are a pain in my ass,” said Top.
I had to agree. These days theywere everywhere. The military had a lot of them, but they were also being used not only to map streets and, by law enforcement, to conduct aerial surveillance and patrol the border but also to film sports events, take real-estate photos, and even deliver goods. Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Domino’s, Taco Bell, and hundreds of other companies had applied for licenses. The FAA kept trying to fight it,and for very good reasons. UAVs could be used to deliver a lot more than chalupas or the latest Janet Evanovich novel, but the agency was losing most of their cases.
“Still not seeing it, Bug,” said Bunny. He held a muscular AA-12 shotgun with a drum magazine. It was a monster. Fully automatic and drum-fed, it fired five 12-gauge shotgun shells per second. Very reliable, very little recoil. I’veseen Bunny fire it one-handed. And for times when a hail of hot buckshot isn’t enough of a crowd-pleaser, he could swap in another drum loaded with Frag-12 high-explosive or fragmentation grenades. He calls it Honey Boom-Boom. Bunny has issues.
We listened.
Drones are very quiet. Maybe if there weren’t a million crickets and cicadas filling the night air with their steady whistling pulse, maybe—justmaybe—we’d have heard it. Maybe not.
“Infrared,” I said, and we cycled through the Scout’s lenses until the world was painted scarlet.
“There it
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