A Heartbeat Away - Michael Palmer [74]
Genesis: We told you, the virologist is dead. We saw to that.
Ellis: That is incorrect. He is very much alive. You succeeded in blowing up a helicopter. But with a decoy on board, not him.
Genesis: Interesting. In that case, we know the man’s location. The matter will be resolved. And you will become the president. Bank on it.
CHAPTER 32
DAY 4
1:30 P.M. (CST)
Matt Fink had been a pilot in the South African Air Force before he became a mercenary, opting for more close-up work and much more money. Now, he banked a sharp right turn, extended the Learjet 40XR’s landing gear, and then rechecked his instrument panel for any needed course corrections. He slowed to 140 knots and extended the wing flaps to decrease the aircraft’s stalling speed. The Lear was a joy to fly compared to the stiffer JAS Gripen fighter he had piloted in the service.
Clear skies and no strong crosswinds made for perfect flying, and a bright Kansas sky gave Fink a clear view of the runway. He repositioned his headset microphone to continue the arrival sequence with air traffic control at the Garden City Regional Airport.
“Garden City Tower, LXJ183 is eight miles out entering a left downwind for the visual three-two,” Fink said.
“LXJ183 is cleared to land runway seventeen, winds three-four-zero at five to ten.”
“Cleared to land, LXJ183,” Fink repeated the instruction.
The wheels touched down with barely a bump and Alex Ramirez, who had passed the flight from Baltimore in the copilot’s seat, stood with the aircraft still in motion.
“I’ll head back and get the weapons and gear ready,” he said.
“The Cessna’s waiting for us,” Fink answered. “I want to be airborne within an hour.”
The two men had worked together for years, and had handpicked the team for the Genesis job. Ramirez, who’d had his face cut nearly in two in Rwanda, was sharp and dependable, and the absolute best with any sort of electronics, or any kind of garrote. He was also a vicious infighter, who had disposed of the Capitol security guard Peter Tannen quietly and efficiently, thus earning himself this trip to Kansas.
Fink taxied to a smooth stop at the location assigned to him by the controller. Then he powered the engines down and confirmed the cockpit radio was off as well. Cain expected him to check in, and that conversation was not one he could afford to inadvertently broadcast to Garden City’s air traffic tower.
He made contact with his employer through a high-tech push-button phone.
“We’ve landed at Garden City Regional, ready for phase two,” he said.
Seconds later he heard a beep and Cain’s baritone voice.
“What’s your ETA to Kalvesta?”
“We’re forty miles west. Once we get the paperwork done, we should have our first visuals of the facility within an hour.”
“Very good,” Cain replied. “You’ll be able to send me photographs?”
“Yes. Cain, let me go in. I know I can get to Rhodes and finish this once and for all.”
“Negative,” Cain said. “This is a reconnaissance mission only. We dismantled our surveillance of the facility after the lab was closed down. I need to see how it’s been resurrected before we make our next move. But I promise you, Fink, you’ll get your chance soon enough. We can’t have Rhodes messing things up at this stage.”
“Roger and out.”
The mercenary snarled and returned the phone to the front pocket of his fleece-lined flight jacket. The blown missile strike at the Capitol wasn’t totally his fault, but he was the one with the visual, and he was the one who pulled the trigger. He took great pride in his near-perfect record of mission successes. He would wait for Cain’s kill order, but not for too long.
Ramirez had unloaded the duffel bags of equipment and weapons, and was waiting for Fink on the tarmac when he deplaned.
“Stay here, sport,” the older man ordered. “I’ll go sign for the Cessna.”
Five minutes later, the killer was seated in a small wood-paneled office in an outbuilding near the air traffic control tower. The portly rental agent across