The Detachment - Barry Eisler [129]
I tried not to get my hopes up. “What?”
“That drone. The Viper. When it’s powered up, it navigates by GPS. It has to uplink to the satellite. So—”
“We’ll know where it took off from.”
“Correct. I have a friend in the NRO who is watching for that signal and that signal alone. As soon as we have the coordinates, I will get them to you.”
“We might not have much time. We don’t even know for sure that he’s going to be in the Lincoln area.”
“I know. But we should be all right. The Viper can loiter for a whole day. I doubt Gillmor wants to run it for that long, but he doesn’t have to wait until the very last minute, either. My guess is, he’ll have it up at least an hour before the shooters go in. That’ll allow him some wiggle room in case he has any mechanical or other problems. But I need to be able to reach you.”
I gave him Kanezaki’s sat phone number, glad I didn’t have to give him a cell. “I’ll be in a car,” I said. “Call me as soon as you know.”
I told the others, then used the commo to raise Dox. “Hey,” I said. “I’m not waking you, am I?”
He chuckled. “I like when you tease me. What’s going on?”
I told him.
“Well, that’s good,” he said, sounding mildly pleased—mildly pleased, I knew from experience, being his only affect when he was in his sniping zone, no matter what the news he was reacting to.
“How’s the view?” I said.
“Pretty in this light. I can see everything.”
“You’re on the roof?”
“One floor down. Doubt anyone could see me from overhead, but why take chances?”
“All right, good hunting.”
“You, too, partner. If you don’t take out that drone, my good work will be wasted. And I don’t think Treven and Larison will be happy, either.”
What he meant is that Treven and Larison, on the ground at the school, would be well within the Hellfire blast radius, and therefore incinerated. Along with God knew how many children.
“Yeah, I’ve thought about that.”
“Okay. No pressure or anything.”
“Right. I’ll talk to you as soon as we know more.”
We pulled on the Dragon Skin vests, and set out at a little before eight. We would have liked to get in position earlier, but outside Dox’s sniper hide, concealment and blending opportunities were scarce. Strange men loitering outside a school tend to draw attention. The good news was, the shooters faced the same problem.
While Kanezaki drove, we all checked the gear one last time. Good to go. We dropped off Treven and Larison a few blocks from the school. They were wearing jeans and tee shirts and baseball caps. With the gym bags in which they were carrying the HKs, they easily could have been a couple of locals on their way to a job in a hardware store or at a construction site. We wished each other good luck, and no one said what was really on our minds: if I didn’t hear from Horton soon, we were going to have to come up with a hell of a Plan B.
But we did hear from him, ten minutes later. “We got him,” he said, with uncharacteristic excitement. “Not in Lincoln, but close by. Tiny town called Palmyra. Spelled Palm, Yankee, Romeo, Alpha. Nothing but farmland. You have a navigation system?”
“Yes. Give me the coordinates.”
He did. I input the information. “Twenty-five miles,” I said to Kanezaki. “Keep going on Route 2. I’ll tell you when to turn.”
He punched it. “Watch your speed,” I said. “Can’t afford to get pulled over.”
“If we get chased, we get chased,” he said, and I supposed at this point it was true.
“What else can you tell me?” I said to Hort.
“It’s obvious Gillmor chose the spot for proximity to the school but also for privacy. Most of the area is flat, and not well suited for the clandestine launch of a drone, but he’s at the end of a dirt road. Looks like an abandoned granary or something, in a depression by a pond and surrounded by trees. He could put the drone up there, get it up high, and I doubt anyone would ever see it. It’ll reach the school without ever passing over anything but fields and farmland.”
“How long is the dirt road?”
“A little under a quarter mile.”
I wasn’t going to approach using the obvious route, let alone one as likely as a road.