The Lazarus Vendetta - By Robert Ludlum Page 0,140
farther on, it swung toward a gate in the perimeter fence. I here a pair of stern-faced guards carrying loaded M16s checked their identity cards, carefully comparing faces and pictures. Satisfied, the soldiers waved them through onto the U.S. Air Force base at Lajes.
The vehicle turned left and raced down the flight line. Gray-camouflaged C-17 transports and giant KC-10 tanker planes lined the long runway. On one side of the tarmac, the ground fell away, eventually plunging almost straight down toward the Atlantic. On the other, bright green slopes rose high above the airfield, broken up into innumerable small fields by low walls of dark volcanic rock. The sweet scents of wild-flowers and the fresh salt smell of the ocean mixed oddly with the sharp, acrid tang of half-burnt jet fuel.
"Your bird arrived from the States an hour ago," the Air Force sergeant told them. "It's being prepped now."
Randi turned toward Smith. "Our bird?" she asked pointedly.
Jon shrugged. "A U.S. Army UH-60L Black Hawk helicopter," he said. "Dispatched here by C-17 about the same time we flew from Paris to Lisbon. I thought it might come in handy."
"Good thinking," Randi said with barely contained sarcasm. "Let me get this straight: You just snapped your fingers and had the Army and the Air Force ship you a multimillion-dollar helicopter for our personal use? Is that about right, Jon?"
"Actually, I asked a couple of friends in the Pentagon to pull a string or two," Smith said modestly. "Everybody's so worried about this nanophage threat that they were willing to bend some of the rules for us."
Randi rounded on the leathery-faced Englishman. "And I suppose you think you can fly a Black Hawk?"
"Well, if I can't, we'll soon find out the hard way," Peter told her cheerfully.
Chapter Forty-Six
PharmaTech Airfield, Santa Maria Island
Hideo Nomura paced slowly along the edge of the long concrete runway. The wind, blowing from the east, whispered through his short black hair. The light breeze carried the rich, sun-warmed smell of tall grass growing on the plateau beyond the fence. He looked up. The sun was still high overhead, just beginning its long slide toward the western horizon. Far to the north, a few clouds drifted slowly past, solitary puffs of white in a clear blue sky.
Nomura smiled. The weather was perfect in every respect. He turned, seeing his father standing behind him between two of Terce's hard-faced guards. The older man's hands were handcuffed behind his back.
He smiled at his father. "It's wonderfully ironic, isn't it?"
Jinjiro eyed him with a stony, cold reserve. "There are many ironies here, Lazarus," he said coldly, refusing even to call his treacherous son by his own name. "To which do you refer?"
Ignoring the gibe, the younger man nodded toward the runway in
front of them. "This airfield," he explained. "The Americans built it in 1944, during their war against Germany and our beloved homeland. Their bombers used this island as a refueling point during their long transatlantic flights to England. But today, I will turn their own work against them. This airfield is about to become the staging area for America's annihilation!"
Jinjiro said nothing.
Hideo shrugged and turned away. It was clear now that he had kept his father alive out of a misguided sense of filial piety. Once the first Thanatos drones were airborne, there would be time to arrange a fitting end for the old fool. Some of his scientists were already working on different variations of the Stage IV nanophages. They might find it useful to test their new designs on a live human subject.
He strode toward a small knot of flight engineers and ground controllers waiting beside the runway. They wore headsets and short-range radios for communications between the aircraft hangars and the tower. "Is everything ready?" he asked sharply.
The senior ground controller nodded. "The main hangar crew reports they are ready for rollout. All canisters are onboard."
"Good." Nomura looked at his ranking flight engineer. "And the three aircraft?"
"All of their systems are functioning within the expected norms," the man told him confidently. "Their solar power cells, fuel-cell auxiliaries, flight controls, and attack programs have all been checked and rechecked."
"Excellent," Nomura said. He glanced again at the ground controller. "Are there any unidentified air contacts we need to worry about?"
"Negative," the controller said. "Radar reports nothing airborne within one hundred kilometers. We're in the clear."
Hideo took a deep breath. This was the moment he had spent years planning, scheming, and killing to make a reality. This was why he had tricked,