“As I remember,” Hadlow said dryly, “you didn’t ask.” He leaned forward, his voice still bland and expressionless. “On Monday morning, you will find that all of your funds are frozen.”
“What!”
“When you get things in your organization under control, let us know.”
“You can’t do that! We show the prototype Monday. We’ll need massive amounts of cash to take it into production.”
Hadlow could have been discussing gardening across the back fence for all the emotion that was in his voice. “My people are not happy, Mr. Gerritt. You cost us two men and eleven million dollars in street value.”
“How do you know it’s my problem? Somebody in your organization could be the leak.”
Hadlow shook his head. “If it were somebody in my organization, the cocaine would have disappeared. It wouldn’t have been spread out in the sunshine for the whole world to see. Someone is trying to destroy you, Mr. Gerritt, not get our coke.”
“But why?”
“When you find that out, the funds will be released.”
“But you’ll ruin everything!” Gerritt’s voice had gone hoarse. “We’ve got to go into production this week, or lose the deal.”
Hadlow stood. “If you were to seek other financing, we would assume you weren’t happy with our relationship.”
Gerritt sagged back, a sickness twisting his stomach. Hadlow moved to the door, then stopped and turned. “There is one other possible option.”
Gerritt shot up. “What?”
“We have a replacement shipment waiting in Columbia. If we could find someone who could bring that into the country…” He lifted his palms.
“Are you crazy? The feds are watching me now.”
“A man with a large organization and many contacts would be foolish to do everything himself. Especially if he has high exposure.”
He opened the door and stepped out. “Good night, Mr. Gerritt. My best to your wife.”
Chapter Seventeen
The sky in the Los Angeles basin had been gray and overcast when Alex, Derek, Jackie, and Marc had left the city, but by the time they reached Edwards Air Force Base, the high deserts were cloudless, and the air temperature stood at a delightful sixty-nine degrees.
General Taylor Canning and a staff sergeant walked them into the pilot’s ready room, and two men in g-suits and full flight gear stood. The nearest saluted the general smartly. Canning returned the salute, and then turned to the group behind him. “This is Colonel John Talbot, our senior test pilot.” Talbot nodded. He was just starting to gray and had a quick, easy smile.
Canning motioned to the other man. He was slightly shorter than Talbot, with olive skin, a neatly trimmed mustache, and jet-black eyes. “And this is General Sayeed Amani, commander-in-chief of the Royal Saudi Air Force.”
Marc gave a deferent nod of his head. “Is-salaam ‘alaykum.”
The dark eyes widened slightly. “Wa-’alaykum is-salaam.”
“Ahlan Wa Sahlan. Welcome to America.”
General Amani smiled, white teeth flashing. “Your Arabic is excellent.”
“As is your English.”
Canning watched the interchange, pleased. “This is Marc Jeppson, one of the associates in Barclay Enterprises. And Derek Parkin, another associate.” They shook hands quickly, then Canning touched Jackie’s elbow. “And this is Jacqueline Ashby, Mr. Barclay’s executive secretary.”
Amani and Talbot both inclined their heads, the admiration clearly evident in their eyes.
“And this is Alex Barclay, president of Barclay Enterprises.”
Alex nodded and gripped the other’s hand firmly. “General. Welcome.” He also shook hands with Talbot. “Colonel.”
Talbot turned to Alex. “I understand you’re going to be flying back seat with the general.”
That brought both Derek and Marc up in surprise. Alex just nodded. “Yes. I’d like to see what this little system of Gerritt’s can do.”
Canning turned. “Sergeant. Show Mr. Barclay where to suit up. Then have someone bring him out to the flight line.”
“Yes, sir.”
They moved off, but at the door Alex turned back. “Jackie? Tell Gerritt I want to talk to him after the test. In fact, you can take the car back. He and I can have lunch.”
“Okay.”
Canning watched them go, then turned back to the group. “You can watch everything from the control center. We’ve got it wired so you’ll see exactly what Colonel Talbot and General Amani are seeing on their HUD’s—Head Up Displays—as well as what ground control is feeding into the system. They’ll be flying what is known as a DACT mission first. That’s an acronym for Dissimilar Air-to-Air Combat Tactics. It means Colonel Talbot will be flying a different plane—the McDonnell Douglas F-15—and will be the ‘enemy.’”
Talbot grinned. “I’ll be simulating a Soviet pilot in a MIG-22. Since the Barracuda is the test platform for the new radar system, the General will fly that, see what he can do.” The goodnatured challenge in the Colonel’s voice was obvious.
Amani laughed softly. “This system had better be good. Colonel Talbot has a reputation for being one of the most cunning ‘enemy pilots’ in California.”
“After we test the air-to-air capability,” Canning went on, “we’ll try some ground targets. The people at China Lake Naval Weapons Center up north of here have laid out some simulations that will test the mettle of the system.”
The sergeant returned. “About three more minutes, sir.”
Amani and Talbot picked up their helmets.
“Fi Aman Illah,” Marc said, as the two men turned and started for the flight line.
The Saudi turned back, obviously pleased. “I shall need it. Shukran. Thank you.”
As they started down the corridor, Jackie increased her pace and fell in step with Marc. “What did you say to him?”
“Well, really it’s just ‘good-bye,’ but literally, it means ‘Go in the care of God.’”
“If the colonel’s as good as they say, he’ll need some help,” Jackie said.
“He is,” Canning said. “Talbot’s the best.”
Marc turned to Jackie. “I didn’t know Alex was going to fly with them.”
“Oh, yes. When they granted permission, he was elated.”
Canning gave a short laugh. “Didn’t you know? Alex flew jets in Korea. He maintains a commercial pilot’s license.”
“We lease a Lear Jet,” Jackie added with a nod. “Alex flies it most of the time.”
Marc just shook his head, and they fell silent as the sergeant led them through the long corridors. Alex Barclay was full of surprises. How much more was there to the man that he had yet to learn?
“Radar confirms a definite kill.” The triumph in the voice of General Amani was evident even through the overhead speaker in the control center.
“That’s a roger here, too, General,” the fire control officer for the tracking center said into his headset. “That’s four for four.”
“Very impressive,” came the laconic voice of Talbot. “I’m glad this system belongs to us.”
“Gerritt?” It was Alex’s voice.
Gerritt stepped forward. “This is Gerritt.”
“You’ve got yourself a winner!”
A faint smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. But it was Jonathan Taggart who was beaming. Marc leaned over and shook his hand. “Congratulations, Mr. Taggart, you’ve designed yourself quite a system there.”
“Thank you.”
“Control? This is Dolly Leader.” Talbot was all business again now. “Do you wish further DACT testing?”
The fire control officer turned. “What do you say, Mr. Gerritt?”
Again Alex’s voice was heard. “What do you say, General Amani?”
The deeper voice of the Saudi came in almost instantly. “I’m satisfied. Let’s proceed.”
“Roger, Dolly Leader. China Lake? Do you copy?”
A new voice came on.
“We copy, Edwards Control. We’re standing by.”
“Proceed with phase two, Dolly Leader.”
As the speaker continued to chatter, Taggart stepped to the large computer display in front of them and picked up a pointer. The glass prism display feeding from the ground control at China Lake showed the images of more than a dozen vehicles. Four were tanks; two were missile launchers; the rest, trucks and jeeps. A jagged line ran clear across the screen in front of the vehicles.
“A jet fighter has two basic functions,” Taggart began, “airborne intercept and ground attack. You’ve just seen what the system provides in the air intercept category—complete flight envelope coverage, head-on attack capability, fire-and-forget missile control for up to eight missiles simultaneously. The VSM-430 system has included some significant improvements in this area, but basically that is all they are, improvements. Most current radar systems have all those capabilities. We have just refined them somewhat.”
He tapped the screen with the pointer. “But what is significantly different is that we have combined the air intercept potential with greatly enhanced ground attack capability. The technology utilizes what we call a millimeter wave radar seeker. This has the ability to seek out, detect, identify, lock on, and track tactical military ground vehicles.”
The tip of the pointer touched the images one after another. “Here you see a typical ground emplacement.” The pointer traced the jagged line. “They are in excellent concealment behind a steep ridge. You’ll also note they have surface-to-air missile capability.” He tapped the two long, slender shapes pointing into the sky.
“The SAMs are, of course, controlled by ground radar systems that can lock on and track high-performance jet aircraft. Thus, the attack capability of the fighter is jeopardized by the counterattack capability of the ground forces.”
“Approaching China Lake Naval Testing Center.” Talbot’s voice interrupted the lecture, causing Taggart to talk faster.
“Millimeter wave radar technology is not new, nor is the hardware we’ve developed dramatically different. What we have accomplished with the VSM-430 is an innovative use of the data gathered by the seeker device. And we’ve greatly enhanced its ability to screen out other ground clutter that can deceive the radar tracker.”
“Edwards Control, this is China Lake Ground. We’re patching in the video of the target area.”
Marc and the others swung around to where six television monitors were mounted in a bank against one wall. Vivid color pictures sprang to life, each focusing from a different angle or distance on the various vehicles. The same images that were just computer graphics on the prism screen now leaped into life. The tanks were dug in with camouflage netting. The missile carriers were in similar concealment. A jagged and rocky ridge, bare of vegetation, could be seen in the background.
“China Lake Control, this is Dolly Leader. We are on station and standing by.”
“Roger, Dolly Leader. Proceed to designated coordinates and stand by for your approach run.”
“Proceeding as directed, China Lake.” Then Talbot’s voice became less official. “General, I’ll stay right in your six o’clock until you launch the missiles and break off. I’ll follow the missiles in to the target area with the cameras rolling.”
“Roger, Dolly Leader.”
The designer of the VSM-430 turned to an airman. “Could we get the radar display from General Amani’s plane on one of the monitors please?” Almost instantly the far screen went blank, then filled with the images from the radar tracker. Taggart turned back to those watching the demonstration and pulled up a chart that had line drawings of tanks and a missile carrier nestled behind a ridge. The simplified outline of a jet fighter was in the far upper left corner, with arrows diagramming the attack run. He swung up the pointer again.
“What you are about to watch is drawn in this diagram. General Amani’s F-22”—he tapped the drawing of the fighter—”carries two rocket pods under the belly. Each pod holds twelve WASP antitank missiles. The VSM-430 system allows the pilot to make his attack run with no inherent restraints on either the approach or escape. In other words, there are no required altitudes, speeds or other limiting factors. It allows for a low-altitude, high-speed launch from a large standoff range. That means he can launch and break off before he even enters the range of the SAMs.”
“And the radar can tell the difference between a truck and a missile launcher from that distance?” Marc asked, a little bit awestruck.
“That’s what we’re hoping,” Gerritt said shortly.
“Hope nothing, Mr. Gerritt!” Taggart snapped. “That is exactly what the VSM-430 will do, and with great precision. The system sets target priorities and specific attack modes prior to launch. Once launched, the missiles will climb or descend to search altitude. Digital processors in each missile control all flight- and target-search functions. Once the target is selected, the missiles lock on, arm a contact fuse, and make a diving attack on the selected target.”
“China Lake?” Jackie had raised her hand, but Talbot’s voice over the speaker caused it to drop again. “This is Dolly Leader. We are at our coordinates.”
“Begin your attack run, Dolly Leader.”
“Watch the tracking screen,” Taggart said excitedly. “I’ll tell you when to watch the video.”
“Roger, China Control. Okay, General. Here we go.”
“Dolly One to Dolly Leader.” The general’s voice was calm, unhurried. “We’ll take it in the weeds. Here we go.”
“In the weeds means on the deck,” General Canning supplied. “Very low altitude.”
A radar tracker behind them sang out, “Dolly One is dropping fast. He’s under a thousand feet. Speed, Mach one point four.”
“One point four!” Gerritt said. “He’s not holding her back.”
“Good,” Canning said in a clipped voice. “Go for it, General!”
“I have the ground targets on my HUD,” Amani said.
The monitor duplicating Amani’s Head Up Display in the cockpit now showed the images of the vehicles hidden behind a ridge several miles in front of him.
“No joy.”
“That means he has no visual sighting of his target,” Canning said.
“Lock on.” Amani’s voice was almost like that of a computer’s now. “Six seconds to launch.”
The tension in the room heightened visibly.
“Missiles away! Jinking hard.”
“He’s breaking off the attack, pulling away sharply.” Even Canning was getting a little excited.
“Six missiles on their way.”
“Watch the target! Watch the target!” Taggart yelled, but it was unnecessary instruction. Every eye had already swung to the other video monitors.
“There they come!” Gerritt shouted, pointing to the wide angle shot. Six smoking trails were coming in with blurring speed.
And then it was too fast to see it all. There was no sound with the video, but the effect was almost as dramatic. A black streak homed in on the lead tank. The turret disappeared in a flash and a burst of smoke. On another screen, Marc saw one of the dummy missiles on the SAM launcher hurtle end over end as the WASP from the F-22 hit it just above the tracks. And then the five screens were filled with fire and black smoke.
“Dolly One, this is China Control. We have confirmed hits on six out of six of the designated targets.”
Jonathan Taggart leaped into the air. “All right!”
Chapter Eighteen
“So that’s it. I think all the essential elements are in place now.” Though a few hours had passed since the test, Alex was still so keyed up from the success of the testing and from his luncheon with Gerritt that he couldn’t stay seated for more than a minute or two. He was up again, and Marc, Jackie, and Derek had to swing around in their chairs to watch him as he paced. “I haven’t dared hope we could really pull this off, but I think we can. I think we can.”
“General Amani seemed very impressed,” Marc offered. “I t
hink what he said afterward went far beyond mere Arab courtesy.”
“I do too.” Alex beamed happily. “And Gerritt is absolutely elated.”
“He should be,” Jackie said. “This will put Gerritt Industries back into the black and then some.”
“Yes, and then some is right. So we have our radar system. Derek’s got the Jakarta deal on its feet. I think we’re ready to lay out the whole thing for the Saudis. Amani will go back and confer with the powers that be.”
“Will he be part of the delegation that comes to Washington?” Marc asked.
“Yes. Which will be in our favor.” Alex moved back around behind his desk and sat down, giving them each a long searching look. “I really think we’re going to do it!” he said again in wonder. Then suddenly, he was all business. “Well, we got an early start this morning. Let’s call it a day, and hit the ground running tomorrow.”
They stood. “Thanks again to all you,” Alex said. “I think we’ve got ourselves one heck of a team.”
They started to move to the door, and Alex stood up to see them out. Jackie was first with Marc and Derek right behind her. As Marc passed, Alex touched his arm. “Oh, Marc. Could I see you for a minute or two?”
“Sure.” Surprised, he moved back to his chair.
“Jackie, if you’ll lock up the front, Marc and I will go out the back and do the warehouse.”
“Okay.”
Alex shut the door, which was the second surprise. Alex rarely shut his office door. “Well,” he began as he pulled a chair alongside Marc and sat down, “what did you think of that little demonstration today?”
“As the kids would say, it was awesome. Almost disturbingly so.”
“Why disturbingly so?”
Marc considered that. “When I was teenager, I got to sit in an M-60 tank once. I can remember thinking, ‘Now, if I had to go to war, this is where I’d like to be.’” He took a breath. “Watching those tanks go up today, with absolutely no chance to defend themselves…I don’t know, it was kind of sobering.”
“Yes. This high-tech warfare is really something.”
Marc was looking at the derringers on the wall, absently. “Does it ever bother you?”
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