Day of the Cheetah

  cannula in place to feed her oxygen. Many of the bandages had

  also been removed, and the bums on her face and neck looked

  markedly better. Wendy's mother had even brushed out her hair.

  "She looks better to me," McLanahan said. The doctor made

  no comment. "Why isn't she on a respirators If you say her

  respiratory system can collapse, why can't she be on life-

  support ... ?"

  "We can keep her alive indefinitely, Colonel, but is that what

  you really want?

  "Yes. I I

  "Think of the pain you'd be subjecting her family to-"

  "I'm her family too." He ignored the faces around her bed-

  side. "Stop trying to spare us pain and help her, dammit. Right

  now." The doctor nodded, put his hand on McLanahan's shoul-

  der and turned away. The relatives and friends turned away;

  some filed out of the intensive care ward, not looking at him or

  saying anything. A few minutes later he felt a hand on his shoul-

  der. Hal Briggs was standing beside him. "Man, I came as soon

  as I could . . . "

  "Thanks for coming, Hal. I appreciate it. Is the general

  here? "

  "He's still . . . away," Hal said. McLanahan knew that meant

  the Cayman Islands, as leader of the air cordon around Nicara-

  gua. "There's DOD investigators all over the Center, and they

  have authority to go any damn place they want. I got sick of

  them and took off. "

  "I'm really glad you guys are here," he said to both Powell

  and Briggs. He noticed Briggs wearing his earpiece transceiver.

  He was also armed, his ever-present Uzi submachine pistol on

  his waist. Hal nodded, then motioned his eyes off toward the

  DAY OF THE CHEETAH 437

  door, and all three men walked outside and found an isolated

  area in the hallway.

  "How is she?"

  "The doctor says she's worse. Who the hell knows? What's

  going on, Hal?"

  " might have to return to Puerto 1,empira right away,"

  Briggs said. "They made a deal with the Russians. They're go-

  ing to turn DreamStar over to us-maybe tomorrow morning.

  They say it's flyable, so the general wants , Dr. Carmichael

  and Master Sergeant Butler to go out to Puerto Cabezas and

  inspect her. might be able to fly the thing back to Dream-

  land.

  "That's good, real good ... What about Ken James?"

  "You mean Colonel Andrei Maraklov. The Russians say the

  guy really is a KGB agent," Briggs said. "Do you believe it?

  We had a damned KGB agent in Dreamland for almost two whole

  years - Heads are gonna roll for that-mine in particular."

  At the mention of James' real Russian name, the old fury

  came back. "What's supposed to happen to him?"

  "The White House says he's on his way back to Russia,"

  Briggs said. "The next time we see him will probably be on the

  podium beside the head man at the Great October military pa-

  rade. "

  Briggs suddenly touched the earphone. "Briggs. Go ahead."

  The earpiece acted as a microphone as well as a speaker, picking

  up sinus- and. osteo-vibrations and transmitting them like a con-

  ventional radio system. Briggs listened for a few moments, then,

  replied, "Copy"'all. Briggs out." He turned to McLanahan.

  "Word's ip/,'tolonel- The plane's been sealed off in a concrete

  shelter on 'Puerto Cabezas airfield. Tomorrow morning at Six A.,

  we've been cleared to fly no more than four more people in to

  inspect DrearnStar-that means Carmichael, Butler, and

  myself. If we can fly it out, they'll let us. If we can't, we'll be

  able to sail a barge into the docks at Puerto Cabezas and ship it

  out. The general wants back immediately. I've got to get

  his gear together back at Dreamland. "

  McLanahan glanced down the hallway and saw Wendy's doc-

  tor and several nurses and technicians wheeling a large machine

  into Wendy's ICU ward at a run. "Wait here," he said, and ran

  down the hallway and followed the doctor back into the ward.

  When he entered the room a low, high-speed electronic beep-

  438 DALE BROWN

  ing was coming from Wendy's body-monitor. The relatives were

  crowded around her bedside, blocking the doctors and techni-

  cians from reaching her. The minister was kneeling beside

  her . . .

  "Get away ftom her, " McLanahan shouted and pushed his

  way through the knot of people. The doctor, after seemingly

  being paralyzed by the scene, rushed over to the monitor. "What

  the hell are you doing? Get away from her and let the doctors

  through . . . "

  "Respiratory arrhythinia," McLanahan heard the doctor say

  to one of the technicians, "but I've still got a heartbeat. She's

  hanging in there. Put her on the respirator and take her to the

  CDV lab." They began to insert the tracheal tube in her throat

  and worked to reinflate her lungs.

  McLanahan pushed the minister aside and stood beside the

  doctor. "Can you help her?"

  "I don't know, dimmit. " He was watching as the technicians

  quickly transferred the body-function leads from the wall unit to

  the portable device. "Her respiratory system has shut down."

  He pointed to an electronic electrocardiogram readout on the

  portable respirator. "But that could be her saving grace. Strong

  as a horse. There may still be time. " He turned to the people

  surrounding the bed as a gumey was wheeled into the room.

  "All right, please move aside, everyone. " Wendy was trans-

  ferred to the gumey, and the hospital technicians rushed out.

  McLanahan saw Wendy's parents staring at him as if he was

  crazy. "Wendy will be all right," he told them.

  I, Why are you doing this, Patrick?" Betty Tork said in a low

  voice.

  I'I'm doing this because I want Wendy to live. You're all

  waiting for her to die. I'm sick of it. I'm sick of you. " He

  turned, pushed past the relatives still packing the small room

  and hurried out.

  He was met by Powell and Briggs in the hallway. "I'm going

  with back to Honduras," he told them. The two officers

  stared at him. "We'll fly back in Cheetah. Hal, go back and get

  's flight gear and Carmichael and Butler and meet us in

  Puerto Lempira. "

  said gently, "Do you think you should?"

  "Wendy's back on a respirator. I think she's going to make

  DAY OF THE CHEETAH 439

  it. I believe she's going to pull out of it. I've got to be there

  when we get DreamStar . . . "

  "Man, are you sure you're all right?" Briggs asked. "Maybe

  you should stop and think about this . . . "

  " Listen, I've got to do it this way. The more I stay around

  this place the more I feel like I'm on a death watch. I won't do

  that. I got to believe she's going to make it. Now let's get going.

  Until DreamStar is out of Nicaragua I won't stop. And I want

  Cheetah there in case something goes wrong . . . "

  "Nothing can go wrong," Briggs said. "Maraklov is on his

  way to Russia. He's the only one that could fly DreaniStar. They

  can blow DreamStar up, destroy it or disable it, but either way


  we've at least kept the Russians from getting their hands on it.

  We've won, man."

  "Not yet, we haven't. As long as Wendy's fighting, I'm fight-

  ing too. And I can't fight wringing my hands in this place. Let's

  get the hell out of here."

  Sebaco, Nkaragua

  Sunday, 21 June 1996, 2141 CDT (2241 EDT)

  Out of some one hundred troops originally stationed at Sebaco,

  fewer than twenty were still there, all pressed into service in

  cleaning up and preparing the base for rebuilding. Since there

  were no aircraft at Sebaco, security had been cut back to only a

  couple of guards roving the base. With workers on the job from

  twelve to sixteen hours a day, the base was practically deserted

  by nine P.

  It would be that much easier to get away from Sebaco. Mar-

  aklov had decided on a plan nobody would expect, he hoped-

  return to Puerto Cabezas and try to steal DreamStar again.

  Earlier that day he had taken a military sedan that had a full

  tank of gas and hidden it, keeping the keys. It was less than two

  hundred miles to Puerto Cabezas, but the first one-third was on

  mountainous gravel roads, which were dangerous enough when

  driven by day-he would have to make the drive in the middle

  of the night. The first fifty miles would take at least two hours,

  maybe more. The rest would be easier-he could make the trip

  in five hours, maybe a little less. According to KGB director

  440 DALE BROWN

  Kalinin, the Americans would be at Puerto Cabezas to get

  DreamStar shortly after dawn. He had to be there ahead of them -

  There were only two things left to do: get back his metallic

  flight suit and helmet from Lieutenant Musi Zaykov, who was

  holding the equipment in preparation for sending it back with

  him to Moscow, and-what would be the hardest of all-subdue,

  or eliminate, Musi herself. She was scheduled to drive him

  to Managua at Six A. the next morning and put him on a

  nine A. Aeroflot flight to Moscow. If he could keep Musi quiet,

  maybe tie her up and hide her in the jungle where she'd even-

  tually be found, they would think they had left for Sandino In-

  ternational Airport as scheduled. They wouldn't know until the

  Aeroflot's departure time of nine A. that they never showed

  up-and by then he would be airborne once more in DreamStar.

  That evening he dressed in a dark flight suit and spit-shined

  boots-into which he slipped a large hunting knife in a leather

  sheath-and left his room; he had, of course, already deactivated

  the surveillance camera set up in his room, and he was sure it

  had not been reactivated since the attack. He slipped outside

  through a back window, retrieved the sedan and drove it over to

  Musi's barracks several buildings away-being an officer as well

  as one of the few women on the base, Musi had a cabin to

  herself.

  He stopped the engine a few dozen yards from her cabin and

  coasted to a stop several yards from the back door. He consid-

  ered trying to sneak into the cabin, but Zaykov would probably

  shoot him as an intruder. Instead he simply went to the front

  door and knocked.

  "Kto tam?

  "Andrei.

  A slight pause, then, in a light, excited voice, Musi replied

  in English, "Come in, Andrei."

  She was standing in the middle of her small living room,

  wearing a T-shirt that outlined her breasts, a pair of tropical-

  weight shorts and French-made tennis shoes. She came over to

  him and kissed him lightly on the right cheek. "Come in, An-

  drei.- She tugged him into the living room and around toward

  the'sofa. "Please, sit down. How do you feel?"

  "Physically, great, emotionally, lousy . . . I can't befieve

  we're just going to give up Dreanl$tar. After all that's hap-

  pened.

  DAY OF THE CHEETAH 441

  "Orders are orders, I suppose," she said, curling up like some

  exotic cat on the loveseat beside the sofa. "There's nothing any

  of us can do."

  "Doesn't make me feel better."

  "No, but we are both soldiers," she said. "Never mind, won't

  you be glad to get back home? It's been so long since you have

  been there . . ."

  Maraklov had to work at his reaction. "Sure, but it would be

  better if you were going with me."

  "I will join you in Moscow before'long, " she said. "We will

  see each other very soon." She motioned to a small bar in the

  comer behind Maraklov. "Fix us some drinks? I think I have

  something interesting in there."

  He got up, found ice and glasses, then started checking out

  her stock. He picked up one especially fancy bottle. "Well, look

  at this! Glenkinchie single malt Scotch whiskey ... I never

  expected to see this in this godforsaken place."

  "You can try some of that," Musi said. "It is very special.

  It is my favorite. " As he dropped ice cubes into a couple of

  glasses she added, "It was Janet's favorite, too."

  "Who? "

  "Janet. Janet Larson. Her real name was Katrina Litkovka-

  the woman you murdered eleven years ago."

  He froze, then, willing his muscles to move, turned around.

  Musi Zaykov was standing in the center of the room holding a

  silenced nine-millimeter automatic pistol in her right hand. Her

  seductive smile had vanished, leaving a stone-cold murderous

  glare.

  "What in hell is going on, Musi? " He put the glass down on

  the bar but kept the Scotch bottle in his left hand, sliding it down

  his leg to hide it as best he could. "Put that thing down."

  "You are under arrest, Colonel Maraklov, " Zaykov said, "for

  the act of murder."

  "What are you talking about? Is this some kind of sick joke?"

  Loosen up, he told himself. Find out what she knows and use

  the time to figure out something . . . He forced himself to put

  on a broad smile. "What's gong on, Musi? Put that thing away.

  Are you crazy? I'm no threat to you-"

  "Stay where you are. " She reached into her jacket pocket and

  took out a sheet of paper. "A copy of a message transmitted to

  A

  442 DALE BROWN

  you from Moscow, directing you to go to Puerto Cabezas and

  steal the DrearnStar aircraft. What is this about?"

  "Just what it says, Musi. I've been ordered to steal the damn

  thing again and fly it to a secret base in Costa Rica. " As he said

  it he took the opportunity to take a half-step toward her. "They

  figured I did such a good job the first time, they wanted to see

  if I could do it again."

  "If that was meant to be humorous, Andrei, you failed,"

  Za kov said. "My last orders from General Tret'yak were to see

  y

  to it that you are confined to the base until morning.

  "Well, I have orders too, Musi. Given to me by Vladimir

  Kalinin. I'm sure you have ways of confirming that. I don't have

  much time to waste."

  "I must check this with General Tret'yak. If what ou say

  y

  is true, this contradicts previous orders. Orders must be veri-

  fied-


  "There's no damn time to verify anything. DreamStar will be

  gone in ten hours, maybe less."

  " m And you had to come here to get your flight suit and hel-

  et," Zaykov said. "Then you had to do one more thing-kill

  me. You could not make it appear that we had gone to Managua

  as scheduled unless I was out of your way." `

  "I wasn't going to kill you. I could never do that. I'm much

  too fond of you . . . you know that . . . " He searched her face,

  found little softening in it. "You can help me, Musi. You can

  get a helicopter to take me to Puerto Cabezas-"

  "I can't do that. Even if these orders were fully authorized I

  would not do it. "

  Something else was wrong. "Musi, what is it?"

  She let the first letter drop to the floor, then drew another one

  from her jacket. "Some research I did when you left Sebaco for

  Puerto Cabezas . . . The morning after your attempt to fly to

  Cuba you were delirious from dehydration. You called out a

  woman's name-Janet. "

  "Janet? You mentioned that name moments ago. I don't know

  a Janet."

  -You did know a Janet, Andrei-or should I say, Kenneth

  ames. I knew a Janet too. Janet Larson. We were good friends

  back at the Connecticut Academy."

  Now the words hit Maraklov like a baseball bat against his

  skull. He had forgotten the name the minute he left the Soviet

  DAY OF THE CHEETAH 443

  Union for Hawaii all those years ago. The delirium caused by

  the ANTARES interface somehow had unearthed it-unfortu-

  nately, in the presence of another Connecticut Academy gradu-

  ate who knew her.

  "Yes, I knew Janet ... Janet Larson. What has she got to do

  with my orders?"

  "Perhaps nothing-perhaps everything," Zaykov said - "Janet

  Larson-Katrina Litkovka-was found dead in a car crash. They

  say she had been drinking, that her car went off the road. But

  Katrina was fond of having affairs with many of the students at

  the Academy. You were one of them." She paused, then said,

  "I was one of them too."

  "You and Larson were lovers?"

  "Those of us in courtesan training at the Academy were taught

  to . . . to please women as well as men," she said. "It was all