"Be safe, son," Ben replied, and turned and walked away before he could make a sentimental fool of himself.

From the side of the field, he watched as the big C-130 lumbered down the runway and took off. He felt a strange foreboding, and the hair on the back of his neck stood124 124 William W. Johnstone up. He shook his head, trying to will away his misgivings about the upcoming mission, and returned to his headquarters to monitor the SOHFRAD frequencies.

125.

The ship appeared in s.p.a.ce accompanied by a brilliant, though silent, display of light and energy as it exited from the subs.p.a.ce vortex that allowed it to travel at multiples of the speed of light.

The ship was silver-metallic in color, and slightly longer than a football field and almost as wide. The t.i.tanium-based metal of its surface was pitted and scored with thousands of tiny craters from collisions with s.p.a.ce dust at speeds approaching that of light.

Inside the vessel, the change in velocity to sublight speeds triggered automatic sensors, which began to replenish the nitrogen/oxygen atmosphere and to heat up the interior from 175 degrees below zero to 110 degrees above zero.

Coffinlike containers arrayed along the walls of the many interior corridors began to vent a heliox gas mixture into containers, and the occupants inside the containers began to awaken after more than fifty years of a comalike deep hibernation.

The first to emerge was the commander of the ship. He was a little over five feet in height and resembled what humans had come to call "Grays"

in the days of the UFO craze before World War III. He had two arms, ending in hands with three fingers and an opposable 126.

thumb, two legs, and large black eyes that were faceted like those of a fly. Two tiny holes in the middle of his face served as a nose, and he had no external ears. He was completely hairless, and his gray skin was the texture of old leather.

He stretched and flexed to ease muscles cramped by fifty years of immobility, and then he proceeded to the control cabin of the s.p.a.ce ship. Easing into the captain's chair, he stuck his right hand into a depression on the console in front of him, and the liquid crystal display on the forward wall lit up, along with hundreds of other dials and indicators.

His eyes quickly roamed over the dials, noting they were all in a dark purple shade indicating everything was functioning properly.

He was about to get to his feet and process some food and water to fill his empty stomach, when a strident rapid buzzing sound erupted from a speaker and several of the lights changed from dark purple to brilliant orange and began blinking.

The captain ran back to his chair and began to twist k.n.o.bs and punch b.u.t.tons and move his feet over pedals under his chair as fast as he could.

A giant blue planet filled almost the entire surface of the view screen, while a smaller gray moon approached rapidly from the right.The captain's second in command was running toward his chair next to the captain's when the ship suddenly veered sharply left and down, throwing the second officer to his knees and flinging him against a stanchion on the sidewall.

A nasty gash was opened in his forehead, and purplish liquid oozed from it to run down across his eyes.

Sleeving the blood off his face with his right arm, the 127.

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second officer got to his feet and moved with an unsteady gait toward his chair. Once there, he buckled himself in and began to a.s.sist the captain with his evasive maneuver to avoid Neptune's moon, Triton.

As they worked feverishly to change the course of the ship enough to miss the moon, they spoke to each other in a series of shrill whistles and clicks and low-pitched moans.

"By all the G.o.ds, how did this happen?" the captain asked, the tone of his whistles showing extreme anger. "The ma.s.s-proximity-avoidance device was supposed to bring us out of the vortex away from any large objects."

The junior officer glanced quickly at his captain, wondering if it was safe to explain to him how the much larger ma.s.s of the nearby gas-giant planet caused the MPA device to ignore the much smaller ma.s.s of the moon that even now was bearing down on them.

He finally decided not to attempt it. He had no desire to be thrown into the neutron disintegrator to be used as food for the rest of the crew members-something the captain had done to insolent underlings more than once on their long journey from their home planet.

The buzzing from the ma.s.s-proximity-warning speaker lowered in intensity as the moon flashed by less than five hundred meters from the ship and pa.s.sed from view in the forward screen.

Seconds later, small flashes of light winked and flared as the ship pa.s.sed through the twin rings of Neptune and the forward shields disintegrated the small bits of rock and ice that comprised the rings before they could penetrate the ship's hull.

When the buzzer abruptly ceased its warning, the captain leaned back in his chair and took a deep breath.

The slit in his face that served as a mouth curled in what 128.

for him was a rare smile. "That was too close," he said, his whistles showing his mood was softening somewhat.

The junior officer nodded his agreement, his twin hearts slowing their beating as the danger pa.s.sed.

All of the dials and lights on the console changed color from orange topurple, except one, which slowly pulsed green.

The captain pointed one of his fingers at the light. "I see the electromagnetic resonator has detected signals in this system," he said.

"Run the sequencer a.n.a.lyzer on it to see if it indicates intelligent life or if it is merely the product of a magnetic emanation from a radio star."

The junior officer complied, twisting dials and keeping both his eyes on a small screen set in the console in front of his chair. After a few moments, he too smiled. "The sequencer a.n.a.lyzer reports the electromagnetic signals are organized, Commander. There must be intelligent life in this system!"

"Good," the captain said. He knew that the presence of intelligent life far enough along in the evolutionary chain to produce radio signals always meant there was a planet in the system that could support them.

In all the thousands of years his people had been exploring s.p.a.ce, they'd never come across higher life forms that didn't originate on a planet with oxygen and nitrogen as the main components of their atmospheres.

Though the physical forms of the various intelligent civilizations varied greatly, the one constant was an M-type star and a planet based on carbon with nitrogen and oxygen in the atmosphere.

"What are the radiation levels?" the captain asked.

"Well within the normals for a civilization that is pre-nuclear," the junior officer answered. "There is no sign of nuclear radiation in the system."

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"Even better," the captain responded. He had found too many civilizations on his many journeys where intelligent life had progressed to the nuclear phase and poisoned their planets with radiation from internecine warfare, rendering them unsuitable for conquest.

"Begin the process of locating the planet where the radio waves originated. Once you've done that, send a pulse rocket message back to Zastar telling the supreme high commander we have found another planet suitable for colonization."

"Uh, shouldn't we wait until we are certain the climate and atmosphere are suitable for us, Captain?" the junior officer asked.

"You're right," the captain said. "I remember the time Captain Zistaake made the mistake of reporting a find, and later had to retract his claim when the temperature of the planet was too low to sustain us. The supreme high commander fed his atoms to the council members as punishment."

The junior officer breathed a sigh of relief. He too remembered the incident, and he also recalled that the entire crew of the unfortunate captain had been used as a foodstuff for their captain's mistake.

The supreme high commander was only slightly more unforgiving than their own captain.The captain got up from his seat and turned to leave. "I am going to my quarters to feed and drink. Once you've located the planet with life on it, call me and I'll return and let you feed."

The junior officer's stomach growled at the mention of food, but he kept his mouth shut and his head down. Better to wait to eat than to anger the captain and become food.

Perhaps he'd get lucky and one of the females would 130.

wander into the control room, and he could send her to get him some food. If he was really lucky, perhaps she'd even wait around and they could mate after he'd eaten. Fifty years in a sleep-cubicle tended to make one h.o.r.n.y as well as hungry.

Just as the captain left the control room, a light began flashing on the console, and the junior officer bent to take a closer look at his computer screen. A tiny map of the system was displayed with nine planets revolving around a sun, which was indeed cla.s.sified as an M-type star.

The third planet in the array of this solar system was blinking off and on, indicating it was the source of the radio waves the ship had detected.

The junior officer hurriedly set a course to intersect the orbit of the third planet. Once he was done, he swiv-eled in his chair and stared at the door, wondering if he dared to look out in the corridor and try to find a compliant female to fetch his food.

His dilemma was solved when a small gray head appeared peering in the doorway. He motioned her in and she entered. The females were identical to the males except for two small b.r.e.a.s.t.s on their chest used for feeding the young until they were old enough to eat solid food. The species wore no clothing due to the high temperature of their native planet.

The junior officer recognized the female as one he'd never mated with, which made her appearance all the more welcome. He couldn't remember her name, so he just whistled the equivalent of "Miss" and gave her his most engaging smile.

"Miss, would you be so good as to get me some food from the dispensary?"

he asked. "I have been so busy guiding the ship through the perils of this solar system I haven't had time to eat since the awakening."

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The female moved closer, her nostril openings dilating as she sniffed his body odor to see if he would be a suitable mate. After a moment, she nodded. "Of course, Navigator," she said, calling him by his official t.i.tle.

"And after I eat," the junior officer added, his eyes moving over her body, "perhaps you could stay here a while and I could show you the planets as we pa.s.s them."

Her oral slit curved in a most fetching way, and she lowered her head an inch or two. "Is that all you want of me, Navigator?" she asked coyly.Before he could answer, her eyes widened as his genitals changed color and began to respond to her flirting. She gave a low whistle of amus.e.m.e.nt. "Never mind, Navigator. I can see that is not all you want. I shall hasten on my way to get your food, and I eagerly await what will come next."

After she left, the junior officer swiveled in his chair and focused his attention on the screen in front of him. He hoped that the evidence of what he was thinking would disappear from his genitals before the captain returned. He would not want the captain to think he wasn't paying attention to his job. But like many species across the vast reaches of s.p.a.ce, what his mind thought and what his s.e.x organs decreed were two different things.

132.

The moon was a tiny crescent in a cloudless sky as the two Chinooks flew through the blackness. They were painted coal black and were flying without any running lights. In the cargo bays, men dressed all in black with black greasepaint covering their faces sat checking a.s.sault rifles, cartridge magazines, grenades, and just about everything else hung, strapped, or fastened to their BDUs. The loud whine of the turbines and the rhythmic whup-whup-whup of the rotor blades prevented talk of any kind.

Bartholomew Wiley-Smeyth checked his watch for the hundredth time, a knot of nervous acid in his stomach. He knew that no matter how cunning and brave his men were in the upcoming a.s.sault, he was going to lose some of them. Most were men he'd trained with for years, and he knew most of their families as well as his own. The loses were going to hurt terribly.

Bart had worked out a plan whereby the helicopters would split up ten miles short of Riyadh, with the lead chopper heading to the outskirts of the city and the second going on to the oil fields. Even though the oil fields and their plutonium bombs were the prime objective, Bart thought the bombs' detonators would probably not be trusted to field operatives, but would remain in the hands of the terrorists' leaders in the city itself. He couldn't risk 133.

133.

a hurried radio transmission from the men guarding the oil fields getting through and the bombs being detonated while his men were among the derricks.

Bart was going to lead the contingent in the a.s.sault on the oil fields while his second officer, Major Hugh Holm-sby, would take his men into the city of Riyadh.

Holmsby was one of the most dangerous men Bart had ever met. Trained in search-and-destroy tactics, Hugh, it was said, could sneak up and take a quarter off a rattlesnake's head and leave change without the snake ever knowing it had been visited.

Bart was no slouch at such maneuvers himself. In one of his early training days, he'd been sent into a completely darkened building containing ten men hiding in various rooms. His a.s.signment had been totake each of them out without the others hearing him do it. He'd not only managed to take out all the men, but when his instructors entered the building thirty minutes later, there was no sign of Bart. He'd managed to sneak out of the building under their very noses, and was standing quietly at the back of their group as they searched for him.

He knew this was going to be even more difficult. He was going to have to lead a group of men over ten miles of desert in almost total darkness, and infiltrate and kill an unknown number of adversaries whose positions and displacements were also unknown to him. Hugh had grinned when told of the mission and said, "It's a cake-walk, Bart old chap."

Bart knew better.

The sound of the Chinook's engines changed as the pilot slowed for landing. Flying at only a little over a 134.

hundred feet to avoid radar, he wouldn't have to drop too much to let the men out.

A light on the wall just behind the pilot's compartment changed from red to yellow, and Bart signaled his men with a thumbs-up to tell them to get ready.

The chopper slowed and dropped, its wheels just inches above the gravel and sand of the desert, and the light went to full green.

Bart pumped his fist in the air, and twenty-five highly trained SAS soldiers rose as one and bailed out the door, immediately forming a perimeter around the Chinook in case of enemy presence.

Bart turned and gave the pilot a quick salute just before he exited the plane last.

After the Chinook eased around and headed back the way they'd come, the men gathered around Bart. He quickly checked his Global Positioning Satellite receiver, and noted they had to travel nine miles directly south to get to the outer ring of oil rigs.

The men spread out in an arrowhead formation, with Bart just behind the point man, and moved off toward their target.

The men in the other Chinook, led by Hugh Holmsby, were a little ahead of Bart's crew. Hugh's men were already at the outskirts of Riyadh. It was a fairly modern city, but there weren't a lot of streetlights burning and most of the windows in the city were darkened. Muslims didn't go in much for nightlife, and most were in their homes by dusk.

Hugh's first objective was to find out just which building contained the headquarters for the terrorists. Guessing 135.

135.

it would be on the outskirts of the city on the side nearest the oil fields, he began his search there.He spread his men out along a perimeter and told them to scan each and every building through their night-scopes. He figured the headquarters would be guarded, both on the ground and on the roof. He also thought the windows would be lighted, with men on radios keeping in touch with their leaders.

Sergeant Major Thomas Gifford gave a low whistle from off to Hugh's left. Hugh ran over and squatted down next to the man.

"We got lucky, Major," Gifford said, speaking in a whisper even though no one was nearby. He pointed at a five-story building just ahead of his position. "Check out the roof."

Hugh fastened his nightscope on the roof, and saw a man leaning against a parapet smoking a cigarette, the glow bright in Hugh's scope. The man had what appeared to be a Kalashnikov a.s.sault rifle slung over his back.

"Bingo," Hugh whispered. "Round up the men, Tommy, we're going in."

Once the men were rea.s.sembled, they all c.o.c.ked their weapons and made sure extra magazines were readily handy. "From here on in, hand signals only," Hugh whispered.

When the men spread out and moved toward the building, not a sound could be heard. They moved through the night like ghosts on cats' feet.

They approached the rear of the building away from the entrances in groups of five men. When they got to within a hundred yards, Hugh waved his hand up and down and they went down on their bellies, crawling the rest of the way.

Twenty yards from the back wall, Hugh held up his 136.

fist in a signal to stop. Two guards were strolling around the building, talking to each other in low voices as they made their hourly patrol.

Hugh pulled his a.s.sault knife from its scabbard and motioned to Tommy Gifford, who did the same. While the rest of the men held their positions, Hugh and Tommy crawled toward the two guards as silently as snakes on cotton.

When they were within six feet of the two men, Hugh and Tommy got to their feet and moved in unison. The left arm went around each man's neck to prevent him from calling out, while the right hand drove the blade of the knife up under the rib cage, severing the aorta and spinal cord and causing instant death. The two guards didn't even moan as they went limp in Hugh and Tommy's arms.

Hugh gently laid his man on the sand and stood up, signaling his men to join him up against the wall of the building.

He outlined his plan of attack. Two men would scale the side of the building, carrying only a knife and a silenced pistol, to take out the roof guards, while the rest of the men would go in through the front door in a storming action, also using silenced weapons.

While Jerry Albright and Keith Kilgore moved up the rear wall, Hugh peeked around the corner. A bored guard was standing in the doorway,leaning against the wall, snoring softly. He was asleep on his feet.

Hugh bared his teeth in a savage grin and moved quickly, his back against the wall to stay out of sight in case the man woke up.