Net Force - Tom Clancy [27]
He pulled the bike onto an off-ramp, geared down and rolled into a parking lot. When he shoved his World War I aviator goggles up onto his forehead, the VR band also went up in RW, and all of a sudden he was back in his room. He blinked. RW always looked so pale compared to VR. Like it was the imitation, and virtual was the real place.
Just in time. He heard the front door open.
Tyrone?
Hey, Pop!
Tyrone got up, and nearly tripped on his own feet. Jeez! He was constantly knocking stuff over or slipping and sliding. Grandaddy Carl said that his dad had been the same way at thirteen, couldnt walk down a ten-foot-wide hall without bumping into both walls nine times. Tyrone found that hard to believe, that his dad had ever been that clumsy. Or that he would someday grow out of it.
When he reached the living room without destroying any furniture, he saw his dad there, in Net Force fatigues, neutral gray pants and shirt over spit-polished black boots. Behind his father, Master Sergeant Julio Fernandez stood by the door, dressed similarly.
Hey, Tyrone, the sergeant said.
Hey, Sarge. Hows it goin?
Not bad, for an old Hispanic. He grinned. Fernandez had retired from the RA-Regular Army-at the same time Colonel Howard had left. They went way back, had known each other for twenty years. Theyd joined Net Force at pretty much the same time. His father had told him that Sarge had said if the colonel could work for civilians, he could manage it, too. But Sarges love for computers was below zero, and Tyrone thought that was kind of strange, given that that was the business Net Force was in.
I wanted to stop by before we took off, his dad said. Ive already called your mother. Shell be back on the commuter flight arriving at eighteen hundred, so youll only be on your own for a couple of hours. Think you can handle that?
Tyrone grinned. I dunno, Pop. Thats pretty scary. After I get home from school, Ill be alone in the house for all that time. I could starve. Maybe die of terminal boredom.
Life is hard. Mrs. Townsend is running the car pool today, right?
Right. Rick Townsends mother had the duty this week; next week it would be Arlo Bridgers mom, the week after that, his mom. The co-op car pool made getting to school and back a lot easier than catching the bus. He was on the mid-morning schedule this semester, so he didnt have to be there until nine-thirty.
His dad grinned back, then came over and hugged him. I dont know when Ill be back. You take care of your mother. Ill call when the situation permits.
Yes, sir.
His dad turned away. Okay, Sarge. Lets roll.
Youre the colonel, Colonel.
His dad squeezed Tyrones shoulder once more, then did a crisp pivot and headed for the door.
Tyrone felt a sudden coldness in the pit of his belly. His dad never let on about whether his assignments were dangerous or not, but for him to come home when he didnt have to pick up any gear or anything, for all of a whole minute, just to tell him good-bye-well, that made Tyrone nervous.
Where was Net Force posting his father? And what kind of trouble might be there waiting for him?
Thursday, September 16th, 7:15 p.m. Grozny
Plekhanov was in his office in front of his computer. There was no one around this area, and probably no one on the entire floor. The government could not afford to maintain a night shift, though had he wished it, Plekhanov himself could have paid for it. One of the advantages of being a computer expert of his caliber was that stealing money electronically was not a problem-as long as one did not get too greedy. A million here, a million there, and pretty soon, it added up.
His communication software had reached out and connected him to the Rifle, and now their