Power Grab. Don Pendleton

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СКАЧАТЬ grin. “Not likely, Carl. Come on. We’ve got to get the deactivated bombs back to the chopper.”

      “Police?”

      “Not coming unless somebody thought we should have paid at the gate,” Schwarz said. “The noise down here was probably nothing like gunfire to the folks upstairs.” They could still hear the music and cheering of the game above.

      “You saved my life,” Lyons said.

      “Pol’s, too,” Schwarz said. “I keep reminding him.”

      “Help me up,” Lyons said.

      His teammates helped the big blond cop get to his feet.

      “How do you feel?” Schwarz asked.

      “I just got the shit beaten out of me by a giant Cossack,” Lyons said. “How do you think I feel?”

      “Well, you’re alive enough to be grumpy,” Schwarz said, helping him down the corridor as Blancanales covered them both. “I imagine you’ll live.”

      “Shut up, Gadgets.”

      “It looks like he mostly pounded on your skull,” Schwarz went on. “That should mean you’ll be fine in just a little while.”

      “Shut up, Gadgets.”

      They continued bickering as they made their way back to the Chinook. Grimaldi wasted no time asking questions. He simply put the heavy helicopter back into the air. “We’ve got our next target,” he reported. “The Farm says Warlock has pinpointed another set of signals in Albany, New York. That’s where we’re headed.”

      “All right.” Lyons nodded wearily.

      Blancanales retrieved the chopper’s well-equipped first-aid kit and went to work. He started probing at Lyons’s chest. The big cop breathed in heavily but refused to give in to the pain any more than that.

      “I don’t think your ribs are broken,” Blancanales said finally. “Although I couldn’t say why not, from what Gadgets says happened. All I remember is a sensation of flying, and then the wall and I got to know each other.”

      “He wasn’t the most fun person you’ll ever meet,” Lyons said.

      The chopper was headed east. Lyons could tell from the position of the sun. They spoke over the noise of the chopper as Grimaldi flew them. Lyons hoped there would be enough time. Whoever was in position in Albany, Karbuly Ghemenizov wouldn’t be there…but there was no point in searching the city of Syracuse for him. He wouldn’t be staying there, unless it was to plant more bombs, and if he did so, the Warlock network would find him.

      Lyons hoped so.

      “You’re looking pretty grim, Carl,” Schwarz said, less teasing now. “You all right?”

      “I don’t like getting my ass kicked.”

      “Did you see that guy?” Schwarz asked. “He could beat up a marching band and have energy left over for the color guard.”

      “That has to be the strangest comparison I’ve ever heard.”

      “Quiet,” Schwarz said. “Your brain is scrambled and you’re not in my right mind.”

      “Gadgets?”

      “Yes, Carl?”

      “Shut up.”

      CHAPTER FIVE

      Tehran, Iran

      The irony that they were fighting to protect supporters and party officials belonging to the hard-line tyrant now holding Iran’s presidency was not lost on David McCarter. The strange complication of the surveillance equipment, unaccounted for, worried him a great deal, but there was nothing to be done about that now. They would have to play out the hand they had been dealt. It would do no good to concern themselves with factors whose import was not discernible yet.

      The small cafeteria hall that was the site of the first rally boasted a crowd of a few hundred people. Phoenix Force, at Ahmadi’s urging, insinuated themselves into the crowd toward the back. There were a few token security personnel here and there, from what they could tell. These men wore no uniforms and, while they carried wireless radios, did not appear to be armed.

      The front of the cafeteria hall had been decorated with banners bearing Magham’s photograph and some sort of slogan. None of McCarter’s team would have been able to understand it even if they could read the writing, but of course that was irrelevant. A podium had been erected, and one of several speakers who Ahmadi had said was a minor party functionary was now going on in Persian. He sounded boring even in an incomprehensible language, McCarter thought, and it didn’t surprise him that politics was dull no matter what the cultural environment.

      The plan, inasmuch as they were able to create one, was simply to stay among the crowd unless and until a terrorist hit was enacted. It was a stopgap measure; McCarter would much have preferred to go directly to the heart of the matter but, as Brognola had said, there were certain political concerns. The big Fed would not come right out and say it in so many words in the briefing, but they all understood that there were certain political exigencies at stake. It wasn’t enough to destroy Ovan or to smash Magham. The men involved had to be exposed so that the world would know why such men had been destroyed and smashed. Thus the weight of public opinion would not be thrown too hard against those few industrialized nations still willing to combat terror in the world.

      The real difficulty here would be in pulling off armed resistance to the attack without ending up in the hands of the Iranian authorities. At the thought, McCarter realized it was odd that this rally, supporting as it did the current government’s regime, boasted no Iranian Internal Security agents. He edged closer to Ahmadi, who now wore a radio just as did Phoenix Force’s members. Their conversation would be inaudible to anyone not wearing such an earpiece.

      “Ghaem, lad,” McCarter said softly. “Where is the IIS in all this?”

      “It is indeed curious,” Ahmadi said. “Usually, Magham’s operatives travel with them in plentiful number.”

      “Not that I’m complaining, mate,” McCarter said, “but just how do you suppose we would pull this off if the place were crawling with IIS men?”

      “I assumed you would think of something.” Ahmadi managed to sound sheepish, even whispering. “You came highly recommended.”

      “Can’t argue that,” McCarter said with a mental shrug.

      The audience began to close in around the podium as the speaker made as if to wrap up his comments. Apparently he was some sort of preliminary figure, for the crowd perked up considerably when the next man strode to the podium. He began without apparent preamble, making sweeping gestures with his arms, doing his best to animate the crowd. For the most part, they responded, and the men of Phoenix Force played along, shouting when the crowd shouted, waving when the crowd waved.

      McCarter was starting to feel silly when he saw the first of the killers.

      He would not have been able to explain, if asked, what first drew his attention to the man. It was something in his body language, СКАЧАТЬ