Dark Star. Don Pendleton

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       www.mirabooks.co.uk

      Special thanks and acknowledgment to Nick Pollotta for his contribution to this work.

       For Sgt. Jason “Scramble” Campbell, U.S. Marine

       Corps, 2nd Battalion.

       Nice to have you back, buddy.

      CONTENTS

       PROLOGUE

       CHAPTER ONE

       CHAPTER TWO

       CHAPTER THREE

       CHAPTER FOUR

       CHAPTER FIVE

       CHAPTER SIX

       CHAPTER SEVEN

       CHAPTER EIGHT

       CHAPTER NINE

       CHAPTER TEN

       CHAPTER ELEVEN

       CHAPTER TWELVE

       CHAPTER THIRTEEN

       CHAPTER FOURTEEN

       CHAPTER FIFTEEN

       CHAPTER SIXTEEN

       CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

       CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

       CHAPTER NINETEEN

       CHAPTER TWENTY

       EPILOGUE

       PROLOGUE

       Compose Island, Brazil

      Partially hidden by rising clouds of steam, the huge space shuttle dominated the vast empty expanse of the launch pad. Surrounding the colossal concrete apron was a lush tropical jungle full of wild birds, small monkeys, trip wires, video cameras, proximity sensors and land mines.

      “T-minus fifty minutes and counting,” an amplified voice announced over the public-address speakers, the words echoing across the island and startling the flocks of colorful parrots in the nearby coconut trees. For a single moment it almost seemed like a rainbow exploded into existence, then the birds separated, each taking off in a new direction, and it was gone.

      Standing alongside the colossal spacecraft, the gantry tower was alive with dozens of scientists, technicians, mechanics and astronauts carefully preparing the billion-dollar vehicle for its maiden flight. In only a little while, a new era would begin for Brazilian space travel.

      A large crowd of excited people clustered in front of the Vehicle Assembly Building, watched the complex preparations from behind a line of safety barriers. The cream of Brazilian society was in attendance: politicians, billionaires, scholars, famous athletes and movie stars, along with a small army of new reporters, their digital cameras flashing almost nonstop. This was a very special day for the nation, and everybody wanted to be here for the event.

      “T-minus thirty minutes and counting,” the voice loudly announced once more as the technicians on the gantry started disconnecting myriad cables and hoses attached to the shuttle as a prelude to the launch.

      More than simply a new class of space vehicle, the monstrously huge Skywalker would be the world’s first armored shuttle, fully capable of being armed to defend Brazilian interests in space or to remove enemy military satellites. The brewing war with Colombia over dwindling natural resources was becoming inevitable, and the Ministry of Defense always took the long view and planned for the future. When the hammer fell, Brazil would be ready to defend itself against any possible invader.

      Fully aware that the combination of the Skywalker and the crowd of high-profile notables was a tempting political target for any terrorist group, the Ministry of Defense was taking no chances today and security was tight. Discreetly armed members of the S2 secret police moved through the excited throng, watching intently for anything suspicious. A full battalion of soldiers was situated in the jungle, and floating serenely off the nearby coast was the massive São Paulo, the flight deck of the aircraft carrier full of SuperPuma gunships, and the new AMZ fighter-bombers, their sleek wings bristling with weaponry.

      “T-minus ten minutes and counting,” the calm voice announced. “Will all nonessential personnel please leave the launch pad immediately. Repeat, all nonessential personnel leave the launch area…. Alert! Red alert! We have incoming!”

      The crowd looked at the sky to see something bright streak by overhead, moving faster than they could track. Was it a meteor? A missile? A split second later they had their answer as the truncated cone came to a dead halt in the air above the throng of dignitaries and a hurricane wind brutally slammed them to the ground.

      Suddenly a wave of heat engulfed the spectators, followed closely by a thundering volcano of fire, the roiling blast tearing the horrified people apart, arms and legs sailing away like burning autumn leaves. Heads rolled across the cracking concrete and bodies were hammered flat, only to be reduced to ash in mere seconds.

      Shocked motionless for a moment, the news reporters on the roof of the Main Assembly Building lurched into action and swung their cameras around to record the ghastly slaughter. But they caught only a brief glimpse of a strange machine hovering above the ocean of fire before the hellish wave of smoke and flame erupted over the edge of the building. Helplessly, the reporters and their equipment were slammed across the roof to tumble off the other side, falling fifteen stories to the hard concrete below.

      A low moan sounded just then, rapidly increasing into a strident howl as warning sirens cut loose, the noise nearly СКАЧАТЬ