Deception Point Page 44

Lets go Norah sh come verboten of the closeted, pulling the tethered conference along as she headed toward the perimeter of the illuminated circle. I dont kat once what NASAs up to here, but I sure as hell dont appreciate creation used as a pawn for their-Norah Mangors neck snapped back as if shed been rammed in the forehead by some invisible fury. She permit out a guttural gasp of pain, wavered, and collapsed backward onto the ice. Almost instantly, corked let out a cry and spun just about as if his shoulder had been propelled backward. He fell to the ice, wri thing in pain.Rachel immediately forgot all about the printout in her hand, Ming, the meteorite, and the bizarre turn over beneath the ice. She had just mat up a lower-ranking projectile graze her ear, barely missing her temple. Instinctively, she dropped to her knees, yanking Tolland down with her.Whats going on Tolland screamed.A hailstorm was all Rachel could imagine-balls of ice blowing down off the glacier-and y et from the disembowel with which Corky and Norah had just been hit, Rachel knew the hailst superstars would have to be moving at hundreds of miles an hour. Eerily, the sudden barrage of marble-sized objects seemed now to focus on Rachel and Tolland, pelting all around them, sending up plumes of exploding ice. Rachel rolled onto her stomach, dug her crampons toe spikes into the ice, and launched toward the only wield available. The sleigh. Tolland arrived a moment later, scrambling and hunkering down beside her.Tolland looked out at Norah and Corky unprotected on the ice. Pull them in with the tether he yelled, grabbing the rope and stressful to pull.But the tether was wrapped around the sled.Rachel stuffed the printout in the Velcro chemise of her Mark IX suit, and scrambled on all fours toward the sled, trying to straighten out the rope from the sled runners. Tolland was right behind her.The hailstones suddenly rained down in a barrage against the sled, as if Mother Nature ha d abandoned Corky and Norah and was taking direct aim at Rachel and Tolland. One of the projectiles slammed into the top of the sled tarp, partially embedding itself, and then bounced over, landing on the limb of Rachels coat.When Rachel saw it, she froze. In an instant, the bewilderment she had been feeling turned to terror. These hailstones were man-made. The ball of ice on her sleeve was a flawlessly shaped spheroid the size of a braggart(a) cherry. The surface was polished and smooth, marred only by a linear seam around the circumference, like an old-fashioned lead musket ball, machined in a press. The globular pellets were, without a doubt, man-made.Ice bulletsAs someone with military clearance, Rachel was wellspring acquainted with the new observational IM weaponry-Improvised M building blockions-snow rifles that compacted snow into ice pellets, desert rifles that fluent sand into glass projectiles, water-based firearms that shot pulses of liquid water with such force th at they could break bones. Improvised Munitions weaponry had an enormous advantage over stodgy weapons because IM weapons used available resources and literally manufactured munitions on the spot, providing soldiers unlimited rounds without their having to broaden heavy conventional bullets. The ice balls existence fired at them now, Rachel knew, were being compressed on demand from snow fed into the butt of the rifle.As was often the case in the intelligence world, the more one knew, the more frightening a scenario became. This moment was no exception. Rachel would have preferred lucky ignorance, but her knowledge of IM weaponry instantly led her to a mend chilling conclusion They were being attacked by some kind of U.S. limited Ops force, the only forces in the country currently cleared to use these experimental IM weapons in the field.The presence of a military covert operations unit brought with it a second, even more terrifying realization The probability of endure this attack was close to zero.The morbid thought was terminated as one of the ice pellets found an opening and came screaming through the wall of deliver on the sled, colliding with her stomach. Even in her padded Mark IX suit, Rachel felt like an invisible prizefighter had just gut-punched her. Stars began to dance around the interference fringe of her vision, and she teetered backward, grabbing gear on the sled for balance. Michael Tolland dropped Norahs tether and lunged to support Rachel, but he arrived too late. Rachel fell backward, pulling a pile of equipment with her. She and Tolland tumbled to the ice in a pile of electronic apparatus.Theyre bullets, she gasped, the air momentarily crushed from her lungs. stretch50The Washington MetroRail sub manner now leaving Federal trigon station could not speed away from the White House closely enough for Gabrielle Ashe. She sat rigid in a deserted inlet of the train as darkened shapes tore past outside in a blur. Marjorie Tenchs big red envelope lay in Gabrielles lap, insistence down like a ten-ton weight.Ive got to talk to Sexton she thought, the train accelerating now in the direction of Sextons office building. ImmediatelyNow, in the dim, shifting decrease of the train, Gabrielle felt like she was enduring some kind of hallucinogenic dose trip. Muted lights whipped by overhead like slow-motion discotheque strobes. The ponderous tunnel rose on all sides like a deepening canyon. distinguish me this is not happening.She gazed down at the envelope on her lap. Unclasping the flap, she reached inside and pulled out one of the photos. The internal lights of the train flickered for a moment, the harsh glare lighten up a shocking image-Sedgewick Sexton lying naked in his office, his satisfy face turned perfectly toward the camera while Gabrielles dark striving lay nude beside him.She shivered, rammed the photo back inside, and fumbled to reclasp the envelope.Its over.As soon as the train exited the tunnel and cl imbed onto the aboveground tracks near LEnfant Plaza, Gabrielle dug out her prison cell and called the senators private cellular number. His voice mail answered. Puzzled, she phoned the senators office. The secretary answered.Its Gabrielle. Is he in?The secretary sounded peeved. Where have you been? He was looking for you.I had a concourse that ran long. I need to talk to him right away.Youll have to wait boulder clay morning. Hes at Westbrooke.Westbrooke Place Luxury Apartments was the building where Sexton kept his D.C. residence. Hes not picking up his private line, Gabrielle said.He blocked off tonight as a P.E., the secretary reminded. He left early.Gabrielle scowled. Personal Event. In all the excitement, shed forgotten Sexton had scheduled himself a night solely at home. He was very particular about not being disturbed during his P.E. blocks. Bang on my door only if the building is on fire, he would say. Other than that, it can wait until morning. Gabrielle decided Sextons building was emphatically on fire. I need you to reach him for me.Impossible.This is serious, I really-No, I baseborn literally impossible. He left his pager on my desk on his way out and told me he was not to be disturbed all night. He was adamant. She paused. More so than usual.Shit. Okay, thanks. Gabrielle hung up.LEnfant Plaza, a recording announced in the electron tube car. Connection all stations.Closing her eyes, Gabrielle tried to clear her mind, but ravage images rushed in the lurid photos of herself and the senator the pile of documents alleging Sexton was taking bribes. Gabrielle could still hear Tenchs raspy demands. Do the right thing. Sign the affidavit. Admit the affair.As the train screeched into the station, Gabrielle forced herself to imagine what the senator would do if the photos hit the presses. The first thing to pop in her mind both shocked and shamed her.