all on live TV. Christ, can you imagine? The United Nations as umpires and round-the-clock coverage on the cable news? The whole world watching?"
"So what do we do?" Webster asked.
There was a long silence.
"Why did they say airspace?" Garber asked out loud.
"They were paraphrasing," Webster said. "1776, there wasn't any airspace."
"The missiles," Garber said. "Is it possible they've disabled the IFF?"
There was another long silence. They heard a car pull up. Doors slammed. Brogan and Milosevic rattled up the ladder and stepped into the hush. They carried brown bags and Styrofoam cups with plastic lids.
THE GIANT SEARCH-AND-RESCUE Chinook made it north from Peterson in Colorado to Malmstrom Air Force Base outside of Great Falls in Montana without incident. It touched down there and fuel bowsers came out to meet it. The crew walked to the mess for coffee. Walked back twenty minutes later. Took off again and swung gently in the morning air before lumbering away northwest.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
"WE'RE GETTING NO reaction," Fowler said. "Makes us wonder why."
Reacher shrugged at him. They were in the command hut. Stevie had dragged him through the trees to the Bastion, and then Fowler had dragged him back again with two armed guards. The punishment hut was unavailable. Still occupied by Joseph Ray. They used the command hut instead. They sat Reacher down and Fowler locked his left wrist to the arm of the chair with a handcuff. The guards took up position on either side, rifles sloped, watchful. Then Fowler walked up to join Borken and Stevie for the ceremony on the parade ground. Reacher heard faint shouting and cheering in the distance as the proclamation was read out. Then he heard nothing. Ninety minutes later, Fowler came back to the hut alone. He sat down behind Borken's desk and lit a cigarette, and the armed guards remained standing.
"We faxed it an hour ago," Fowler said. "No reaction."
Reacher smelled his smoke and gazed at the banners on the walls. Dark reds and dull whites, vivid crooked symbols in black.
"Do you know why we're getting no reaction?" Fowler asked.
Reacher just shook his head.
"You know what I think?" Fowler said. "They cut the line. Phone company is colluding with the federal agents. We were told it would happen at seven-thirty. It obviously happened earlier."
Reacher shrugged again. Made no reply.
"We would expect to be informed about a thing like that," Fowler said.
He picked up his Glock, and propped it in front of him, butt on the desktop, swiveling it like naval artillery left and right.
"And we haven't been," he said.
"Maybe your pal from Chicago has given you up," Reacher said.
Fowler shook his head. His Glock came to rest, aimed at Reacher's chest.
"We've been getting a stream of intelligence," he said. "We know where they are, how many of them there are, what their intentions are. But now, when we still need information, we aren't getting it. Communication has been interrupted."
Reacher said nothing.
"We're investigating," Fowler said. "We're checking the radio right now."
Reacher said nothing.
"Anything you want to tell us about the radio?" Fowler asked.
"What radio?" Reacher said.
"It worked OK yesterday," Fowler said. "Now it doesn't work at all, and you were wandering around all night."
He ducked down and rolled open the drawer where Borken kept the Colt Marshal. But he didn't come out with a revolver. He came out with a small black radio transmitter.
"This was Jackson's," he said. "He was most anxious to show us where it was hidden. In fact he was begging to show us. He screamed and cried and begged. Just about tore his fingernails off digging it up, he was so anxious."
He smiled and put the unit carefully in his pocket.
"We figure we just switch it on," he said. "That should put us straight through to the federal scum, person to person. This stage of the process, we need to talk direct. See if we can persuade them to restore our fax line."
"Terrific plan," Reacher said.
"The fax line is important, you see," Fowler said. "Vital. The world must be allowed to know what we're doing here. The world must be allowed to watch and witness. History is being made here. You understand that, right?"
Reacher stared at the wall.
"They've got cameras, you know," Fowler said. "Surveillance planes are up there right now. Now it's daylight again, they can see what we're doing. So how can we exploit that fact?"
Reacher shook his head.
"You can leave me out of it," he said.
Fowler smiled.
"Of course we'll leave you out of it," he said. "Why would they care