96

Francesco Riva returned to the office where Waylon McCabe was waiting. On his way, he passed the Serbian, Darko, who was leaving with a contented smile on his face, like a hyena who has fed well. Riva opened the office door and went in, followed by the two armed guards who’d been standing outside.

“You done?” rasped McCabe.

It was apparent to Riva that this was a very sick man, one close to death. His face, always lean, now seemed little more than a skull, barely covered by skin stretched so tightly over the bone that it seemed it might split open at any moment. From time to time an involuntary grimace would cross his face as another spasm of pain shot through him. His shoulders were hunched, his fists clenched. Yet his eyes burned with wild conviction and the men under his command, any one of whom could have killed him with a single blow, were still held completely in his sway.

“Yes,” said Riva. “The weapon is securely loaded in the bomb bay at the rear of the aircraft. It is not yet armed, but the radio control has been set with the correct code sequence. Once the plane has taken off, simply press the control switch and it will arm the bomb. When you reach your target, open the door and release the weapon. It will fall to a height of five thousand feet, at which point the parachute will deploy. As you saw, I fitted an air-pressure sensor to the device earlier, before it was loaded. At three thousand feet, this will send an electrical charge that will begin the detonation process. Your target, you said, was just below twenty-five hundred feet. It will, I assure you, be devastated by the air burst from this weapon.

“Now, if you will excuse me, I will depart. You have been very generous, Mr. McCabe. I would like to start enjoying my money.”

McCabe nodded at one of his guards, who stepped across the door, blocking Riva’s way.

“I can’t allow that,” said McCabe. “My conscience would not permit me to deny you the chance of salvation and everlasting life, in the company of Christ and all His angels. You know where we’re headed today? To heaven itself.”

McCabe’s guards murmured, “Amen,” as Riva looked on, too shocked to respond. The next thing he knew, one of the guards was twisting his right arm behind his back with one hand, and pointing a gun at him with the other.

“But you let Darko go!” Riva protested, his voice rising almost to a squeal as his arm was gripped even more fiercely.

“I sure did,” replied McCabe. “The man is facin’ damnation in the fires of hell for his sins of violence, theft, and fornication committed here on earth. His only hope of redemption is to stay here and fight the forces of the Antichrist in the battle that is to come.”

“You’re mad!” Riva cried, twisting his head this way and that in search of anything or anyone that could save him.

Lieutenant General Vermulen had been dumped in one corner of the room. He seemed defeated and demoralized. His wife was sitting right next to him, her body almost touching his, and yet she was a world apart, looking away, her eyes anguished and unfocused, lost in her private thoughts.

“Let’s go, folks,” said McCabe. “Dr. Riva, I want you to know that I’ll be prayin’ for your soul, despite your grievous lack of faith. And, General, I want you to think real hard, in case you got any plans to try to fight. I know you’re a brave man. I guess you ain’t scared of takin’ a bullet. But take a good look at your pretty little wife. ’Cause if you try anything, my boys are under orders to shoot her first, off the aircraft or on it. And believe me, these boys don’t miss.”

Twelve miles out from Slatina, the Black Hawks were preparing for their final approach into Pristina airport. The fighting troops were getting ready to lock and load. The bomb-disposal experts were checking their gear one last time. Kady Jones’s stomach had been doing backflips since they crossed the border from Bosnia. Now she concentrated on steadying her breathing and relaxing her muscles, just as she had done that afternoon on Gull Lake. She had gone head-to-head with a nuclear bomb. After that, she could surely cope with anything.

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