War Hawk : A Tucker Wayne Novel (9780062135308) by Rollins James; Blackwood Grant

Author:Rollins, James; Blackwood, Grant
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2016-10-17T16:00:00+00:00

9:01 P.M.

Karl Webster ignored the bustle of the makeshift command center behind him. He and his crew occupied a set of old concrete bunkers about two miles east of the test site. They had arrived less than forty-eight hours ago and were operating on an accelerated timetable to perform this test run tonight. Pruitt Kellerman had been firm on this schedule, especially after the raid at Redstone.

Beyond the concrete bunker, engineers and ground crew serviced rows of drones parked on the surrounding tarmac, readying the group for the midnight assault.

Nothing must go wrong.

Inside the bunker, technicians were seated at various terminals along the walls, busy with last-minute finessing of the drones’ monitoring and communication equipment.

Karl, as head of Tangent security, had his own station. He had already cleared operations with the brass at White Sands. A total communication blackout of this immediate area had been initialized. While waiting for the approaching zero hour, Karl had been doing a final review of the various checkpoints surrounding this area. Earlier in the day, this off-limits region had been evacuated of any military personnel, but he was taking no chances.

And it was lucky he was so thorough.

On his monitor was video feed from the Stallion Gate thirty miles to the north. The footage was from an hour ago and showed a power company truck idling at that gate. Karl was well aware of the company’s ongoing survey in that remote corner of the base and would normally have dismissed the vehicle’s presence. The DoD contract limited the power company’s vehicles to a patch of sand well beyond this restricted area.

But his paranoia was running high this night.

So he had studied the video feed more closely. There were two passengers, but their faces were obscured by the reflection of the streetlamp off the windshield. Then the guard on duty had shone his flashlight into the back of the SUV. Karl had caught a glimpse of the employees’ faces. He didn’t recognize the driver, but the other—a woman—turned to say something to the guard. Karl felt a cold chill travel through his bones. He knew that woman, that smile, all too well.

It was Jane Sabatello, the only one to escape his purge of Project 623.

He leaned closer to the image frozen on the screen as questions ran through his mind. What are you doing here, Janie, especially now? How did you find out about this operation? Why did you foolishly come out of hiding?

He balled a fist. While he might not have any answers, he knew she was the one who had sent that commando and his dog to investigate the disappearance of Sandy Conlon.

Karl squinted—his eyes still sore and puffy from the pepper-spray attack—and studied the shadowy image of the driver.

Was this that same man?

A barked order drew his attention back around. Karl punched the keyboard and closed the video feed as Kellerman’s pit bull came stalking over to him after berating one of the techs for getting in his way. Rafael Lyon was dressed in commando gear with a prominent sidearm holstered at his waist.

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