Harm's Way by John Gilstrap

Author:John Gilstrap [Gilstrap, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Thriller, Suspense
ISBN: 9780786050086
Google: 3nOdEAAAQBAJ
Amazon: B0BNCJ1JPS
Barnesnoble: B0BNCJ1JPS
Goodreads: 63853184
Published: 2023-08-22T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

The construction office of the Grand Starburst Resort would one day be part of the conference center. Essentially a wide expanse of tiled concrete, it had been divided up for the time being into various smaller offices and apartments. Kerensky’s apartment was larger than the others and sat on the third floor, overlooking what one day would be a picturesque view of the jungle on one side and the ocean on the other. Right now, the view afforded him oversight of the storage and deployment silos.

That stage of the construction cycle was nearly complete. The last big step was the installation of the launch command and control hardware and software. The missiles themselves would be stored without warheads until construction was one hundred percent complete, and perhaps even for a time after that. Kerensky’s job began and ended with the construction of the facilities themselves and the installation of the launch platforms. When that was done, operational responsibility would pass to scientists and weapons experts.

When all was finished, no one would know what secrets were housed beneath and alongside the Grand Starburst Resort. The only way for anyone to learn would be in the event of a war.

Or, in the event that spies somehow discover the secret and leak it to the world.

Kerensky tried a third time to reach the man who called himself Jo-Jo. This time was different. Instead of the phone ringing through to voice mail, he received a message that this was no longer a working number. He tried again.

Not a working number.

The coincidence was not lost on him that his phone and Zamora’s phone rang at the same time with the result that no one was on the line. He didn’t know what the coincidence meant, but to recognize it was a significant first step toward something.

Kerensky turned to his computer and found the number of a technical genius with whom he often worked. The man went by the name of Boris, and he never failed to answer his phone, no matter what time of day or night Kerensky called. The number was untraceable, scrubbed so many times as to be invisible.

“This is Boris,” the man said in French-accented Russian. “Hello, Ilya.”

“You know better than to use my name.”

“Of course. How can I be of service?”

Kerensky explained the business of Jo-Jo’s phone going from voice mail to unknown number.

“Usually, that means that the SIM card has been destroyed,” Boris said. “Once that happens, the number ceases to exist as a practical matter.”

It was more or less what Kerensky had been expecting. “If I give you the number, can you tell me where the phone was when it last received a call?”

“There’s a chance,” Boris said. “There are a number of variables, but it’s worth taking the chance to find out. What is the number?”

Kerensky gave it to him.

“That is an American exchange,” Boris said. Kerensky could hear the sound of keys tapping in the background. “Houston area code.”

“So, the phone was in Houston, Texas?”

“That’s not what I said.

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