Chuck slammed on his brakes and jerked the wheel to the left at the same time.  The tires squealed as the truck’s back end slewed about.  Rollie threw himself across the bombs, desperately hoping to cushion the blow with his own body.  He felt the truck move about wildly, then straighten out.  The Aussie cautiously lifted his head.  By some miracle, they had escaped the collision.

“Well, that got a bit hairy, didn’t it,” the lieutenant commented mildly.

“Chuck, you have a real gift for understatement,” Rollie replied.

Both men remained tense throughout the rest of the drive.  Just before they arrived at the base, Chuck pulled over.  Rollie then removed the makeup and latex from the man’s face.  After stripping off his Saudi clothing, the lieutenant resumed driving.  A minute or so later, they pulled up to the entrance of the base.  A guard approached the truck.

“Lieutenant Green.  Wha. . . .”  The man’s voice petered off as he saw what sat on the seat.  “Are those what they look like?”

“Well, if they look like bombs to you, then the answer is ‘yes’.”  Chuck pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to the guard, whose eyes widened as he read it.  “I trust that document will prevent any delays here,” the lieutenant said.

“Yes, sir!” the guard replied, saluting smartly.  He handed the paper back, then opened the gate.  Before passing through, Chuck told the guard not to make mention of the bombs to anyone. 

As they drove onto the base, Rollie studied Chuck’s profile.  “That must have been a very interesting piece of paper.”

The lieutenant chuckled.  “Well, let’s just say that it’s a little document signed by a, um, high official, saying that I basically have carte blanche to do whatever I deem necessary.”  He glanced at Rollie, grinning.  “Just one of the perks of the job.”

“Some perk,” the Aussie said.

They pulled up to a building on the outskirts of the base.  With each of them carrying a bomb, they went inside.  There was another guard on duty there.  His reaction to the bombs was just about the same as the other man’s had been.  Again, Chuck whipped out the paper, and, again, it was met by shock and respect.  As the guard gave the document back, his eyes fixed upon Rollie.

“For all intents and purposes, this gentleman is to be considered covered by that document as well,” Chuck stated.  “Do you understand, corporal?”

“Yes, sir.”

“This visit is not to be reported to anyone.  Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir,” the guard said again.

Chuck led Rollie into an elevator and hit the button that said SL5.  The Aussie looked up at the floor indicator as they headed downward into the earth.  He saw that they were going to the lowest floor.

“Actually, we’re not,” the lieutenant said when Rollie mentioned it.  “There are two floors below Sub-Level Five, but they’re not on the floor indicator, and you can only get to them with the use of a special key.”

“What is this place, anyway?”

“Well, I could tell you, but then I’d have to shoot you.”  Chuck laughed at the look on Rollie’s face.  “Sorry.  I couldn’t resist.  I’ve always wanted to say that.”  The smiled faded from his face.  “But this is a top secret facility.  It was built a few years ago when the threat of biological warfare heated up.  There are a number of such facilities around the world.  They were to serve not only as shelters for high-ranking officials and other important people, but also as a place for scientists to find antidotes for any biological agents that might have been released.”

“Why here?”

“Well, for one thing, this base is just a training facility.  Most people wouldn’t expect something like this to be here.  Another reason is that if the biological attack was initiated from the Middle East, having a facility in that part of the world would be a smart idea since it would be unlikely that the people who released the biological agent would poison their own neighborhood.”

The elevator came to a halt, and the doors opened.  Their footsteps echoed hollowly as they walked down the empty hallway.

“This facility is completely self-contained,” Chuck explained.  “It can be sealed off from the surface so that contaminated air can’t get in.  It can also work as a shelter in case of nuclear attack.  Each floor can be completely sealed off from the others so that if one is compromised, the others will remain unexposed.”

The lieutenant opened a door and they entered one of the rooms.  They passed through it into another room.

“This is it,” Chuck said.

Rollie glanced around.  The room was about twenty by twenty and was completely empty except for a table and a couple of chairs.

“This is the room where they would test any biological agents and antidotes.  When I close that door, the room will be hermetically sealed.  The ventilation in this room is strictly recycled air.  There are no vents or openings of any kind.  The walls, floor, ceiling, and door are constructed of concrete and lined with about four inches of steel and lead.  Nothing can escape this room, not radiation, not microbes--and not radio waves.  And a bomb could explode in here and do no damage to the rooms beyond.”

Rollie nodded.  “Take the other bomb outside and shut me in,” he said.

“Rollie--” Chuck began.

“No, not this time, Chuck.  If this bomb explodes while I try to disarm it, one of us has to be alive to see that the other bomb is taken care of.”

The lieutenant stared at the Aussie for a moment, then sighed.  “Be careful, all right?  I don’t want to be the one to have to tell Angie. . . .  Just be careful.”  He turned and left the room.

Rollie watched through the doorway as Chuck went to a control panel and pressed a button.  A door almost as thick as the walls ponderously slid shut, blocking the Aussie’s view of anything beyond the room.  There was a loud hissing for a few moments, then absolute silence.  Rollie was suddenly hit by a feeling of claustrophobia.  The sound of his own heartbeat and breathing was loud in his ears.

The Aussie sat at the table and studied the bomb.  He stared for a moment at the timer, remembering the last time he’d been in a situation like this.  As Rollie had desperately tried to deactivate the bomb that Loubar set in the warehouse to kill Angie, a small portion of his brain had questioned why Loubar had set the timer for twenty minutes, which was what it must have been set for.  It would not have taken that long for the assassin to get Rollie out of the warehouse.  He had seen the answer in Loubar’s mind just before the assassin died.  If Loubar had determined that he didn’t have the hours he needed to torture and kill Angie before Rollie’s eyes, he’d come up with a backup plan that would still give him the pleasure of seeing Rollie’s fear and anguish over his wife’s impending death.  After activating the timer, he had intended to take Rollie up to the office and show him that Angie was still alive.  Then he was going to point out the bomb, letting Rollie know that Angie was going to die and there was nothing Rollie could do about it.  He would then have dragged Rollie outside and watched in satisfaction as the Aussie helplessly witnessed the explosion that took his wife’s life.

Rollie had never told Angie about this, figuring that she didn’t need to know.  She had suffered enough pain at Loubar’s hands.

Returning his attention back to the task at hand, the Aussie removed the pouch he was carrying and dumped the contents onto the table.  Picking up a pair of wire cutters, he resumed staring at the device.  Now that the signaling system was effectively useless, the bomb should be an easy thing to disarm, but he had a feeling that something wasn’t right, that he was missing something.  Rollie had learned not to ignore his instincts.

He continued to stare at the bomb as the timer ticked away.  It was then that he realized something.  Excitedly, Rollie studied the inside of the bomb’s case, then the outside, then back inside.  The inside depth of the casing did not match the outside dimensions of the box.  The box was a good three inches deeper.

Rollie turned the box upside down and saw that there were screws holding the bottom on.  He removed them and slowly lifted the bottom off, revealing a second bomb hidden beneath the first.

“Those sneaky buggers,” the Aussie muttered.  The second bomb was a backup device that would explode only if the bomb on top was disarmed.  It also had a timer, but this one was sitting idle at five seconds.  Wondering why it had a time delay at all, Rollie studied the bomb.  It was a simple device with no hidden surprises, except that it was directly connected to the other bomb.  Disarm either one and the other would detonate.  There was only one thing that could be done.

Rollie turned the bomb back over.  Picking up the cutters, Rollie took a couple of deep breaths.  Though he knew that Angie couldn’t hear him, he whispered, “I love you, Ange.”  Then he cut the wire.

Rollie’s mind began ticking off the seconds as he flipped the bomb over with desperate speed.  One . . . two . . . three . . . four. . . .  The sound of the wire cutters broke the stillness as he cut the wire to the second timer.  Giving a shaky sigh, the Aussie wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead.  He then finished disarming the secondary device.  When he flipped the box back over to disarm the primary device, he abruptly froze and stared at it.  A small plate had slid back, revealing a message written in Arabic and in English.  The message read, “You have five seconds to live.”  Now he knew why there had been a timer on the other bomb.  Whoever had designed the devices had wanted the person who disarmed the primary bomb to know that he was going to die.  Angered by the cold sadism that such an act would take, Rollie quickly made the primary device harmless.  Now, he had the other bomb to attend to.

A few minutes later, with both bombs disarmed, Rollie and Chuck returned to the surface.  They quickly drove back to the office building, stopping briefly to put Chuck back into his Saudi disguise.

In the conference room, standing over in the corner and looking confused and frightened, were a group of Saudis.  These were apparently the men who were there to serve the refreshments.

“They just arrived, sir,” Craig said.

“What did you tell them?” Chuck asked.

“Nothing, sir.”

“Well, you have to tell them something,” Rollie said.  “They look scared to death.”  He walked over to the men.  “Do any of you speak English?”

The men all looked at each other.  Finally, one of them spoke up.  “We all do.  We were chosen for this job because of that.”

Rollie gave the man his most reassuring smile.  “There’s no need to be frightened.  We’re not going to hurt you.  A terrorist group was planning on blowing up the meeting that is going to be here today.  We found the bombs and disabled them, but one of the terrorists is masquerading as one of the people who is meeting here today.  We want to catch him.  Also, there are other members of the terrorists who must not know that their plan has been discovered.  That’s why you have to stay here.  If you leave, then they will know.  We will need your uniforms so that we can pose as you and find the terrorist who is among the guests.  After we’ve stopped the terrorists, then you can go home.”

The men talked rapidly to each other in Arabic, then the man who had spoken before stepped forward.  “Terrorists are a scourge in our country.  We would like to help you with what you are doing.  Many of these men are too large to fit in our uniforms.  Please, let us serve the refreshments as we are supposed to do.  Then you and the others can spend your time searching for the one who hides among the guests.”

Surprised, Rollie looked over at Chuck, who nodded.  The Aussie returned his gaze to the Saudi.  “Thank you.  I am honored by your courage,” Rollie told the man, using a form of praise that he knew the Saudis would appreciate.

The man smiled and bowed his head.  He then spoke a few words to his fellow servers, and they got busy setting things up.

Chuck walked over to Rollie.  “You handled that well.  I’m not sure that I would have told them so much, though.”

“They have a right to know what they’ve stumbled into.  Besides, I didn’t really tell them all that much.”  He looked at himself and Chuck.  “Okay, we need to alter our plans a bit.  How fast can a couple of your men fetch some clothes?”

Twenty-five minutes later, the first guests walked in the door.  Rollie and Chuck, who were now dressed in suits, studied them, wondering if either one of them was the extremist member.

All but two of the other servicemen were stationed on the first floor and at the service entrance.  The remaining two men were the only ones among the Americans who were fluent enough in Arabic that they could speak to a Saudi and not be identified as a foreigner. They had kept their Saudi disguises on.  Rollie had quickly added a bit of latex and makeup to his face and changed Chuck’s disguise so that they wouldn’t be recognized.

Just then, Angie, Hashim, and Patrick--who was still wearing the mask--walked in.  Angie looked about for a moment, then spied Rollie.  The disguise might have fooled others, but it couldn’t fool her.  She whispered something to Patrick who glanced over at Rollie, then headed toward the restroom.  Rollie followed him inside.

“I see that there was a change of plans,” the man commented.

“Yeah.  We’ll tell you about it later.”  The two men quickly switched clothing.  Patrick stripped off the mask and Rollie removed his own disguise.  The Aussie then put some new latex and makeup on Patrick’s face, making him look as much like Rollie had as possible.  By the time they emerged from the restroom, the meeting room had filled with people.

Rollie walked over to his wife and put his arm around her waist.

“Careful, Patrick.  My husband will get suspicious if he sees you getting this familiar,” Angie said, her eyes twinkling with mischief.  “After the meeting, we can sneak off together.”

Rollie grinned down at her.  “Forget your husband.  Tell him that you’ve got a new man in your life so that I can sweep you off your feet and carry you away.”

“Oh, Patrick.  You’re so romantic.”  She stood on tippy toes and kissed Rollie.  “Did everything go all right?”

“We had some trouble, but it was handled.  Everything is all set.”  He turned his attention to the other guests, trying to see if he could spot someone who looked suspicious.  His gaze focused on one man who seemed to be a bit distracted.  The Aussie watched him slowly make his way toward the podium.  The man casually walked behind the stand.  Rollie saw his foot come out and brush aside the material that was hanging across the back of the podium.  The Aussie realized that the man was checking to see if the bomb was still there.

The couple walked over to Chuck.  “I’ve spied our man,” Rollie said, nodding his head toward the man behind the podium.  “He just checked on the bomb.”

“It’s a good thing you put it back and reset the timer then,” the lieutenant said.  “Do you think there are any others?”

“I don’t know.  There could be.”

As the extremist walked away from the podium, another man approached it.  The second man got up on the podium and stepped up to the microphone.

“It is time to begin, ladies and gentlemen,” he said.

Everybody found their seats and the meeting began.  Not paying attention to the speaker, Rollie kept his eyes focused on the spy.  About fifteen minutes into the meeting, the man got up and walked toward the exit.  Rollie caught Chuck’s attention.  The lieutenant nodded and went after the man.  As soon as they had both disappeared through the door, Rollie stood up.

“May I have your attention, please?  This meeting has been targeted by an extremist organization.  The bombs that they planted have been found and disarmed, but we need everyone to quickly leave this floor.”  The other members of Chuck’s team walked in.  “These men will escort you out.  Please leave quickly and quietly.”

“What is this all about?” the man on the podium asked.

“There is no time to explain now.  You will be told everything later.  Please.  Hurry now.”

The guests quickly vacated the room.  Working with frantic speed, Rollie and Angie set up the explosives that the Aussie had put together earlier.  They then dashed downstairs and out the service entrance into the alley where everyone waited.  Two minutes later, Rollie hit a button on the remote he held.  There was a deafening roar.  The windows of the second floor shattered as flames erupted outward.  Glass rained down upon them.  Everyone but Rollie, Angie, Hashim, and the servicemen covered their heads with their arms, fearing that they would be cut to ribbons by the flying glass.  But the particles did no more than sting them.

Rollie picked up a piece of glass that had fallen on his shoulder and squeezed it.  The glass crumpled into dust.  A few years ago, he had created a compound that could break down the molecular structure of glass.  Though it was not something that he normally would have thought of, something had told him that they might need it, so it had been among the things that David shipped over.  Rollie had sprayed the windows with the compound.  By the time the meeting had begun, the glass was so fragile that a light blow would have shattered it.  Treating the glass had been necessary since they could not clear the streets below of people.  The untreated glass would have caused serious injuries.

“Okay.  Hashim, Chuck?  You’d better get back up there and wait for the police and the emergency services people.  There’s going to be a lot of explaining to do.”  The Aussie turned his attention to the extremist, who was being held none too gently by two of Chuck’s men.  The man had a look of stunned disbelief on his face.

“You knew about the bombs?” the man asked.

“Yes, we knew.  We know all about your group, Silent Lion, and what your plans are.”

The Saudi’s eyes widened.  Then they narrowed.  “You will not stop us!  The pollution of the West will be cleansed from the earth!”  Suddenly, he bit down hard.  His body stiffened and convulsed.  His eyes rolled back in his head, and he collapsed.

Chuck felt for the man’s pulse.  “He’s dead.  It must have been cyanide or some other quick-acting poison.”

Rollie stared down at the body.  This had taken him by surprise.  He had not anticipated that the extremist would commit suicide, and he certainly would not have guessed that it would be with the old poison-filled tooth trick that had been shown so often in spy movies.  “I was hoping that we could question him, maybe get him to reveal some information,” he murmured.  Feeling uncomfortable, the Aussie turned away.

“What about the rest of us?” someone asked.  It was the man who had been on the podium.  “We want an explanation for what’s going on.”

“Explanations will have to wait a while longer, I’m afraid.  Right now, we have to get everyone out of here.”  Rollie turned to Angie.  “Did you make arrangements for the bus?”

“Yeah.  It should be here any second.”  Even as she spoke, a bus pulled up at the back end of the alley.

With the help of Chuck’s men, the people were herded onto the bus.  Four of the servicemen got on the bus with Rollie and Angie.  Angie handed one of the men who was staying behind a piece of paper.

“This is where we’ll be,” she said.  “The stuff that we brought is over there in that box.”  She pointed to a box that had been set in the back of the pickup.

They drove off, leaving the last details of the hoax in the hands of Chuck and his men.  A few minutes later, they were pulling up at the gates of a large mansion.  Patrick showed the guards a piece of paper.  The gates were opened, and the bus drove through.

As they walked into the entry hall of the mansion, Rollie saw a pile of cases.  “I see that the equipment is here,” he said.

“All right, enough of this,” came the angry voice of the man who had confronted Rollie before.  “We want answers.”

“What’s your name?” Rollie asked.

“Kurt Warner.  And you are?”

“Rollie Tyler, and this is my wife, Angela.  Let’s all go someplace where we can sit down and I can explain things.”

They went to a large room with couches and chairs.  Chuck’s men fetched some more chairs from the dining room.  It still wasn’t enough to seat everyone.  The people who remained standing moved back against the walls as Rollie began to explain what was happening.  He kept to just the main story, leaving out all the details.

“So, what now?” Warner asked.

They’d come to the part of the plan that Rollie hated.  Because all of these people were now supposed to be dead, they would have to be kept out of sight until Silent Lion had been stopped.  If they were allowed to go home and word got out that people who were supposed to have been killed in the blast were actually alive, the extremists would know that it had all been a ruse.

“I’m sorry, but you will have to stay here until we’ve stopped the extremists from carrying out their plans,” the Aussie announced.

There was a loud murmuring among the people.

“But our families will think we’re dead when they find out about the explosion,” one woman said.

“For those of you who live outside the Middle East, with the exception of five people whose names I will read off, we will let each of you call one member of your family to tell them that you are all right.  What you tell them is up to you as long as you don’t tell them the truth.  We can’t let word of this leak out.  As for the people I name and those of you who live here in the Middle East, we will want to speak to you first before we allow you to call anyone.”  If it wasn’t for the fact that there might have been trouble from all the grief-stricken relatives calling in for answers about the bombing, Chuck would have insisted that everyone, including all of the relatives, be allowed to think that everybody was dead.

“How long are we going to be forced to remain here?” asked a man bitterly.

Rollie sighed.  “I’m sorry that you feel as if you are being forced.  The lives of millions of people could depend on what is done and not done during the next few days.  All we’re asking of you is a few short days out of your lives.”

Looking ashamed, the man took his seat.

“There’s something else that I should let you know.  Because we are not entirely certain that there are no more extremist members among you, all calls that are made will be traced to their destination and the conversations will be monitored by people who speak several languages.  Only one telephone is available for your use, so you will have to make your calls one at a time.”  Chuck had not wanted Rollie to reveal the fact that the calls would be traced and monitored, thinking that they could catch any spies in the act of warning their fellow extremists.  Then Rollie and Angie had pointed out to him that it would be better to have an enemy hidden among them than have the other extremists alerted to the fact that they were alive and knew of Silent Lion’s plans.

Angie stood up.  “Since there are not enough bedrooms to hold everyone, we’ve got sleeping bags, pads, blankets, and pillows to use for sleeping on the floor.  The largest rooms will be prepared for sleeping quarters.  The bedrooms will be reserved for the older guests and those with health problems.  We will also provide you with clothing and anything else you need.”

“One more thing,” Rollie said.  “Any of you who have briefcases, purses, or any other kind of carrying case must give them to those men at the door so that they can be searched.  You will also be checked with metal detectors for items you may be carrying.  We apologize for this, but it is necessary.”  He then read off the names of the five people who were non-Middle Eastern members of Hashim’s organization and asked them and everyone who lived in the Middle East to remain seated.  The list had been given to him by Hashim who had written it after he’d seen who from his organization was at the meeting.

Rollie and Angie got the remaining people to form a line to the telephone.  Anything that could be used for carrying a bomb or communications device was handed over for searching, and each person was swept with a handheld metal detector.  To Rollie, the scene looked like what you’d see in some airport terminals.

As Angie set up her computer, which would be used to trace each call, Rollie went in search of a television.  Finding one, he turned it on.  It hadn’t been on long when a news report came up.  Though he could only understand a word here and there that the Saudi reporter spoke, Rollie recognized the building that was in the background.  Body bags were being carried out by emergency service people, supposedly containing the bodies of the bombs’ victims.  He knew that the actual contents of all but one of the bags was a spray foam that hardened into the general consistency of a human body.  The foam was one of the things that Angie had prepared after Rollie left for Riyadh.  One of those bags, however, did contain a body: that of the dead extremist.

If the extremists were watching this, they would now be certain that their bombs had done their job.  The only wrinkle was that they would be wondering what happened to the Silent Lion member or members who had been in the building.  Hopefully, they would assume that something had happened to prevent them from getting out in time and that they had, therefore, been killed in the blast.

Rollie sighed.  Now came the tough part.  There were about twenty people out there who would have to be told that they would not be allowed to call their relatives unless it was determined that it would be safe to do so.  That determination would be made by Chuck.  Rollie was glad that he didn’t have to do it.  However, he was the one who now had to go and give them the news.  He hated the fact that some families would have to be allowed to think that their loved one was dead, but the lives of a whole lot of people were at stake.

To say the least, the announcement did not result in a pleasant response.  The people were not at all happy.  By the time Rollie had finished calming everyone down, the rest of Chuck’s men had arrived.  An hour after that, Hashim and Chuck came in.

“Was everything handled with the authorities?” Angie asked as she walked into the room.

“Yes.  They have been made to understand the importance of this remaining a secret.  I do not think we will have any trouble,” the sheik said.  “Have you learned anything new?”

“No.  We haven’t had a chance to question anyone yet,” Rollie said.  “As soon as Chuck finishes talking to the people who are waiting, we’ll see if we can find out what the other people in your organization know about Martin Winslow.  I sure hope we can find out how Winslow planned on making the information he sent accessible.  If we can’t, then we could be in big trouble.”
 

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN -- TRIGGER

Out of the seventeen people whom Chuck had talked to individually, only six were not allowed to call a family member.  Those six were the food service people.  Since the company that employed them knew that they were in that building, he decided that there were simply too many people who knew that they should be dead.  There would have been more people who were not allowed to make a call if it had not been for the fact that all of the guests, knowing that the meeting was being held in secret, had told no one except immediate family members that they were going to the meeting.

Rollie, Angie, Hashim, and Chuck now sat with the seven people who were members of the organization that Hashim and Martin Winslow were a part of.  Two of the people were Middle Eastern.  The other five were from all over the world.  Chuck had not talked to these people to decide if they could call relatives.  That decision would be made now.

“I believe that you all knew the late Martin Winslow,” the Aussie said, looking at the people one by one.

“Yes, we knew Martin,” a woman said.  “What does he have to do with this?”

“We have reason to believe that he knew about the extremists we are dealing with and unintentionally played a part in what they are planning to do.  Did any of you receive phone calls from him within the last six months before his death?”

Everyone said no, which made Rollie start to worry.  What if the people who could help them weren’t here?

Just then, one of the men spoke up.  “He did not call me, but a few days before his death, I received a tape from him in the mail.”

“A tape? What kind of tape?” the Aussie asked excitedly.

“A videotape.  It was just a speech from him about counter-terrorism.  I tried calling him about it, but I couldn’t reach him.  I don’t know why he sent it to me.  There was a letter with it asking that the tape be played if he did not show up for the last organization meeting.  I forgot to bring the tape with me when I went to the meeting, so I decided, out of respect for him, to play it at this one.  I requested that a television be set up for it.”

“Do you have the tape with you?” Angie asked.

“Yes, it’s in my briefcase.”

Knowing that this was it, that this was what they had been looking for, Rollie and Angie followed the man to where he’d left his briefcase.  The man opened the case and handed the tape to Rollie.

“Thank you.  You have no idea how important this is,” the Aussie said.

“Did you tell anyone at all that you got this tape?” Angie asked.

“No, no one.  Martin told me not to in his letter.”

“Is there a family member who might be worried about you?” Rollie asked

“Well, my wife may be concerned, but she might not even know for sure that this bombing had anything to do with my meeting.  I didn’t tell her where the meeting was being held.”

“Do you have a friend that you can really trust?” the Aussie then asked.

“Yes.  Why?”

“This is what I want you to do.  Call your friend and tell him about the bombing.  Do not tell him anything about the extremist’s plans.  Just say that the investigation is being kept secret, so he mustn’t talk to anyone about it.  Then have him go over to your house and get your wife to go outside with him.  There, he can explain the situation to her.  She must not talk about this inside your house or on your phone, is that understood?”

“Yes, I understand, but what’s the reason for all this?”

“You know about Dean Forrest’s death, right?  Well, we have reason to believe that it was not an accident.  We think that he was murdered by the extremists because he had been contacted by Martin Winslow.  There was an assassination attempt on Sheik Alafa’s life as well, but it failed.  Now, the only way that the extremists could have known that Hashim and Mister Forrest were contacted is if they planted listening devices in their telephones or houses.  This means that all of the organization members were probably bugged.  Though I doubt it, some of those bugs may still be in place and may still have someone monitoring them.  We can’t take the chance that someone may overhear something that we don’t want them to.”

The man’s eyes had widened at the mention of bugs.  “Do you mean that someone has been listening in on me for the past several months?”

“I’m afraid so, though the bugs were probably removed shortly after Mister Winslow’s death since they would figure that the danger was over.”

After the man had left, Rollie thought about what he’d said about his wife not knowing that he was in the building that had been bombed.  Fortunately, since the meeting had been held in secret, no information had gotten out on who had been in the building or why they had been there.  The news services were only able to report that it had been a meeting of some kind.  Rollie was certain that some of them were suspicious about why nobody seemed to have any information on the meeting, but he hoped that they didn’t get too nosy, at least not until he and the others decided what would be the best way to handle the situation.

All of the other organization members, with the exception of the two Saudi men, were given similar instructions on how to get the message to their families that they were alive.  As for the Saudi members, the situation was trickier, at least for one of them.  The one man had no family, so he was not concerned that someone would fear he was dead.  But the other man did have a family who knew about the meeting and knew where it had been held.  By now, they would be certain that he was dead.  If his house had been bugged and those bugs were still in place, the extremists would get suspicious if his family suddenly stopped mourning his death.  The situation was made even worse by the fact that the man’s wife was pregnant, and he was afraid that the shock and grief would cause her to miscarry.

“Isn’t there any way that someone could go over there and sweep the house for bugs?” Angie asked.  “At least then you’d know if it was safe to tell them.”

“That’s an idea.  I didn’t think of that,” Rollie said.  “One of Hashim’s men could do it.  The sweepers are easy to operate.”

A man was immediately sent out.  Once all of the other people had left the room, the newlyweds, Hashim, and Chuck turned their attention to the videotape.  Rollie stuck the tape in the VCR, eager to see what would happen.  After a few seconds of nothing but a blank picture, the face of Martin Winslow appeared on the TV screen.  He began to give a speech about counter-terrorism, about it being vital to the safety of all countries.  But Rollie wasn’t paying any attention to it, for the moment the man had begun speaking, he’d been assailed by the same storm of voices and images that had struck him twice before.  He swayed, and his hands flew to his head.

“Rollie!” both Angie and Hashim cried.  They grabbed his arms, fearing that he was going to collapse.  They led him to a couch and sat him down.

Fighting to keep from being overwhelmed, Rollie tried to make sense of what he was seeing and hearing, to slow it down.  Gradually, the bombardment slowed.  The images faded away and the voices reduced to a single voice, one that he could understand.  It was Martin Winslow’s voice.

“Do not be afraid of what is happening to you now,” his voice said.  “You are simply receiving into your conscious mind information that I sent to you sometime in the past through the use of subliminal messages.  This information is of the utmost importance because it is concerning a danger that now threatens all Western Nations of the world.  This threat has come about through a terrible error in judgment on my part, and it is now up to you and others like you to save the Western world from destruction”

“It’s working Angie.  I can hear him.  It’s all coming through to me.”

“But why is it only working on you when Angie and I also received the subliminal messages?” Hashim asked.

“I think it’ll work on us too, but it’s going to be a slower process,” Angie explained.  “Winslow probably designed it so that the information would filter into the conscious mind at a gradual rate so that the person wouldn’t be overwhelmed.  But, with Rollie, it’s working differently.  He’s getting it all right away because he has a stronger conscious connection to his subconscious mind.”

The object of their conversation let out a groan.  He was pressing his hands tightly to his head.  “It’s coming so fast now, Ange.  I can’t keep up with it.  I feel like my head is going to explode.”

Angie thought frantically.  If something wasn’t done, Rollie could lose consciousness, maybe even suffer brain damage.  “Mangela told you to go into the Dreamtime.  You have to do that now, Rollie.”

Her husband showed no signs of having heard her.  His face was pale and sweaty, and his eyes were squeezed shut.  A gasp of pain issued from his throat.

Desperate, Angie grabbed hold of his shoulders and shook him.  “Rollie!  Listen to me!  Go into the Dreamtime.  You have to go into the Dreamtime!”

Through the hurricane of pain, images, and sound that was tearing through his mind, Rollie heard a faint voice speaking as if from far away, telling him to go into the Dreamtime.  Listening to it, he let himself slip into the upper levels of the Dreamtime, where the mind could find peace and order.  But it wasn’t working.  The storm still raged, pulling him into a maelstrom of insanity.

‘Someone help me!’ he cried silently.

‘Release your fear, Rollie!  The Dreamtime will save you,’ came a reply.

Knowing that he had no choice, Rollie did what he had feared doing for over twenty-two years.  He dove headlong into the Dreamtime.

Angie gasped as her husband suddenly went limp and slumped against her.  Both Hashim and Chuck quickly reached for him and lowered him onto the couch.  The lieutenant felt the Aussie’s pulse.

“It’s way too slow,” he said.  “And his respiration’s awfully slow and shallow.  I’m calling an ambulance.”

“No, wait,” Angie said.  She lifted one of Rollie’s eyelids and saw the same thing that she had seen when she’d found him on the balcony.  “He’s done it.  He’s gone into the Dreamtime.”

“Are you sure?” Hashim asked.

She started to nod her head, then paused.  “No,” she admitted.  “I can’t be sure of anything.  But it’s what I believe.  Give him a few minutes, and we’ll see what happens.”

Praying that she was right, Angie kept her eyes glued on her husband’s face.

Rollie stood in the eye of a tornado, a tornado made not of wind, but of sound and color.  As he gazed at the whirlwind, he did what he had been taught to do: he willed the chaos away.  Slowly, the twister unwound, tendrils drifting off like cloud mist.  At last, he could see the sky and the land.  He was in Australia.  Her vast deserts spread out before him to the endless horizon.  The sky above was a pure cobalt blue.  Not a whisper of sound came to his ears.  Clouds flew by, appearing and disappearing faster than the eye could follow, but Rollie found nothing strange in this.  He was in the Dreamtime, and this was how his mind portrayed it.

Mists from the tornado that had engulfed him lingered here and there, twisting and twirling about each other.  Knowing that it was why he’d come, Rollie willed the mists to still, to come into their proper order.  As they did, Rollie began to see images, to hear a voice speaking to him.  He watched the images and listened to the voice, fearing what was being told to him, yet feeling excitement over the knowledge that was also being revealed.  He had what he needed.  He could leave now.  But something drew his eyes to the left.  There, he saw a great cobra.  Its body was twisted about a flock of doves, entrapping them.  But it did not consume them.  Instead, it grabbed them into its mouth and spit them into a cage.  The doves cried, trying to escape their prison, but they could not.  One by one, the doves vanished, leaving no trace behind.  As the doves disappeared, they were replaced by others that the cobra had snatched from the air.  Then, the cobra lifted its eyes to two eagles soaring above.  With a hiss, it leapt upward, its mouth gaping open. . . .

Rollie’s eyes flew open with a start.  His gaze darted about wildly until he saw the three faces that were staring down at him.

“Are you okay, Rol?” Angie asked.

The Aussie ran a hand across his face.  “Yeah.  I’m okay.”  With her help, he sat up.  “It worked, Ange.  I’ve got all the information that Winslow sent.  Has anything been coming through with you?”

“Hashim and I are starting to get some of it, but it’s coming slowly.  It’s really strange, like I’m remembering things that I heard and saw.  It will probably take several hours for the process to be complete.”

“There’s no time to wait, Ange.  We have to get started now.  Our suspicions were right.  Winslow was working on an advanced way to use subliminal messages, and Silent Lion somehow found out about it.  They placed one of their men with Winslow as his assistant.  The process was originally supposed to be for studying the various reactions people had to direct subconscious stimuli.  It was a continuation of Winslow’s research into applying Chaos Theory to human psychology.  But the extremists knew that it could also be used as a weapon.  Angie, they’re planning on using satellites to broadcast subliminal messages that will cause extreme psychotic behavior, paranoia, and a violent hatred for any form of authority.  It’ll cause mass rioting, total anarchy.  The countries will be destroyed by their own citizens!”

“My God!  We have to find out where their ground station is,” Angie said, horrified.  “They would have to have a transmitter to feed the information to the relaying satellite.  That isn’t something that they could fit in the back of a truck.”

“I know.  But there is a lot of desert out there.  It could be almost anywhere,” Rollie said.

“Actually, it couldn’t,” Chuck commented.  “There are surveillance satellites that continually keep watch on the Middle East.  If a transmission station had been set up out in the desert, they would have seen it.”

‘Surveillance satellites.  Yeah, right,’ Rollie thought. ‘Spy satellites is what you mean.’  Aloud, he said, “It wouldn’t take much to keep a ground station from being spotted by a satellite.  Some camouflage netting could cover the antenna itself, and if the control station was underground, you could have dozens of personnel operating it, and they would be invisible from the air.”

“I am afraid that I do not know much about satellite communication,” Hashim admitted.  “How could one transmitter broadcast to satellites all over the world?”

“A communications satellite is sort of a relay station,” Angie explained.  “It’s used to ‘bounce’ messages from one part of the world to another.  Years ago, it really was bouncing since satellites were not much more than big reflectors that reflected the signals that were sent to them, but now, satellites carry their own equipment for reception and transmission.  Every communications satellite has a ‘footprint’, an area of the world that it can ‘see’, in other words, receive from and transmit to.  Some footprints are small, encompassing just a few thousand square miles, while others can cover entire countries.  These footprints overlap each other, making it possible for a signal to be relayed from satellite to satellite.  That’s how it’s possible to watch a live broadcast in the U.S. that’s coming from, say, Australia.  It would be possible for one ground station to transmit a signal to a single satellite and have that signal sent all over the planet.”

“But, since these extremists wouldn’t want the subliminal messages to be broadcast to their own countries or to the other nations that they don’t consider to be ‘pollution’, they will have chosen only certain satellites to be the ones that will transmit the signal to ground receivers,” Rollie said.  “According to everything we’ve found out, they are specifically attacking Western Nations.  My guess is that they’ll target North America, Australia, and the non-Communist nations of Europe.”

“So, how do we stop them if we don’t know where the ground station is?” Chuck asked.

“By building another subliminal message generator and transmitter,” the Aussie replied.  Everyone, including Angie, stared at him in surprise.  Rollie focused his attention on his wife.  “It’s all here, Ange.  Winslow downloaded all the schematics and instructions, everything we need to build a transmitter.  He also downloaded the specific message that should be transmitted.”

“What kind of message?” Chuck asked.

“It’s the exact opposite of what Silent Lion will be broadcasting, positive images and words that will counteract theirs.  The two messages should effectively cancel each other out if they are transmitted at the same time.”

“But, even if we can build one, we still have to have access to a ground station so that we can transmit the signal,” Angie pointed out.  “If I had the van, I could send the signal from it to the station.”

“So, you need a ground station?” Chuck asked, his voice thoughtful.

“Yes,” Angie confirmed.  “Why?  Do you have access to one?”

“You know that facility that I took you to so that you could disarm the bombs, Rollie?  Well, it just so happens to have a direct link to a U.S. controlled satellite transmission station.  It was necessary for communicating to other facilities.”

The Aussie smiled.  “Then we’re in business.”

“Yeah, but we still have to build the subliminal transmitter,” Angie reminded him.  “What if we can’t find all the parts we need?”

“I can get you anything you need, even if it has to be flown in on a military jet,” Chuck assured her.

“But what if we don’t have enough time?” Hashim asked.  “According to your federal agents, the attack is going to happen this week.”

“Winslow knew when Silent Lion was going to carry out their plans.  According to him, it’s going to be day after tomorrow,” Rollie said.

“That doesn’t give us much time,” Angie said.

“I know.”
 

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN -- THE FACE OF THE ENEMY

Angie’s fingers flew across the keyboard, creating a virtual model of the device that would allow them to generate and transmit subliminal messages.  Rollie sat beside her, instructions for the device pouring out of his mouth faster than she could type.

“Rollie, slow down.  I’m good, but the fastest programmer on the planet couldn’t work that fast.”

“Sorry.  It’s just that my head feels so full of this information, and a lot of it I don’t even understand.  I’m just repeating his instructions.”  He looked down at the schematic he had drawn from memory.  The downloaded image of it had stayed firmly in his mind as he reproduced it, as clear as if he had been looking at it with his own eyes.

“Do you still have a headache?” Angie asked.

“No, it’s mostly gone now.  This stuff just wasn’t meant to be dumped into the conscious mind that fast.  I mean, we’re talking about three years worth of research and development downloaded in a matter of seconds.  I guess it’s understandable that my brain would be feeling a bit crowded right now.”  He smiled at her.

“That feeling should pass as your conscious mind is given the time to adapt and adjust to all the new data,” Angie said.  “It’s been a lot easier for Hashim and me because we’re getting the info gradually.”  She looked at him more closely.  “Rol, I didn’t want to ask before, but you’ve been kind of on edge since you came out of the Dreamtime.  Did something else happen?”

Rollie nodded.  “While I was in the Dreamtime, I had another Dreaming.  I saw the cobra again.”  He told her what he’d seen.

“The eagles are you and I?”

The Aussie nodded.

“So, we’re still in danger from whatever this cobra symbolizes.  The doves are puzzling, though.”

“Yeah.  Doves can represent a lot of different things: peace, gentleness, hope, love, to name just a few.  Then there’s the cage.  Does it mean a prison?  Some kind of captive situation?”  Rollie sighed.  “All I can do is hope that something comes along that will help me figure it out.”  He rubbed his eyes tiredly.

“Why don’t you get some sleep, Rol.  You’ve been at it since 6 a.m.  I can handle things for a while.  I can now remember quite a bit of the information that Winslow sent, and there’s a lot of other stuff that I’m going to have to do so that the ambler can work with the transmitter.”

“I think I’ll take a walk first, try to clear my head.”  Rollie laughed at what he’d just said.  Clear his head?  Even if he wanted to, he doubted that he could.

Rollie went out into the cool stillness of the night, deeply breathing in the desert air.  The guards who were patrolling the grounds of the mansion nodded at him.  They were made up of Hashim’s men and the security force belonging to the mansion’s owners.  The owners, close friends of the sheik’s, were away on vacation.  Inside the house, Chuck’s men were taking shifts at guard duty.  The Aussie didn’t know if all the security was necessary, but it was best to be safe.  They still had no idea if there was another extremist lurking among the people from the meeting.  Even if there wasn’t, the guards were still a good idea since they would prevent any of their ‘guests’ from sneaking away, a very real danger considering how unhappy many of them were with having to stay there, especially the men who had not been allowed to call their families.

Rollie felt guilty over the fact that the families of those men were being put through so much grief.  He and the others had tried to think of a way that they could be told that their loved ones were still alive, but the risks were just too high.  Rollie cursed himself for not having been able to come up with a plan that would have made all this unnecessary.  He just didn’t know what else could have been done.  The extremists had to believe that their plans were secure and that all the threats had been removed.  If they became suspicious or feared that their intentions would be discovered, they might change their timetable.  If that happened, there would be no way of knowing when the deadly signal would be sent.

There had been one piece of good news.  The man who had been sent to check for bugs in the Saudi organization member’s home had reported the place clean, which had confirmed Rollie’s belief that all the bugs were removed after Winslow’s death.  If they hadn’t been, there would still have been bugs in Hashim’s house when Rollie and Angie arrived.  The man’s wife had been told that her husband was alive and instructed not to reveal that to anyone else.

As Rollie walked, he released the tension in his muscles and let his mind wander.  He could feel Angie’s songline, easily able to locate exactly where she was in the house even though he was not in it.  His ability to sense her presence had expanded dramatically over the last few weeks.  She could be on the other side of New York City from him, and he’d be able to tell in what direction she was in, though not her precise location.  He was also getting better at sensing her emotions, though it was still sporadic, happening mostly at moments when her emotions were strong.

Walking in the quiet of the night, Rollie began to realize something.  He was now sensing not only Angie’s songline, but also that of others, something that he had not been able to do since he was a child.  The feeling was faint, and he could not distinguish one person from another.  He could also not tell how near or far the people he sensed were.  It had been that way as a child as well, with the exception of the people he was emotionally close to.  Rollie knew that this sudden strengthening of his ability was because he had consciously gone back into the Dreamtime.  All the things that Mangela had taught him were beginning to resurface--whether he wanted them to or not.

An odd chill abruptly passed through Rollie, a feeling that all was not well.  He paused and glanced over his shoulder, sensing eyes upon him.  But there was no one there.  Continuing his walk, he began to grow nervous, the feeling of danger not subsiding.  Something was definitely not right.  Rollie stopped again and spun around, his eyes scanning for any kind of movement, his ears listening for a sound that should not be there.  Again, there was nothing.

His instincts telling him very distinctly that he was in danger, Rollie quickly retraced his steps toward the house, his pulse rate increasing.  Suddenly, a figure leapt from the bushes.  The Aussie saw moonlight glint off a steel blade as it descended toward his heart.  Crying out, he grabbed the man’s arm, halting the knife mere inches from his chest.  They fought for control of the knife, the man seeking with all his might to plunge it into Rollie’s body.  The Aussie stumbled backwards and fell, the wind getting knocked out of him as his assailant fell on top of him.  The knife dipped lower, drawing a line of crimson across the Aussie’s skin.

Rollie fought with everything he had, but the tiredness of his body and the man’s superior strength were proving too much for him.  As the Aussie opened his mouth to cry for help, his attacker’s other hand clamped onto his throat, choking him.  Rollie clawed at it, trying to pull it away as his other arm continued to hold back the knife from his chest.  Unable to cry aloud, Rollie’s mind screamed for help.  He reached up and poked his fingers into the eyes of his attacker.  The man grunted in pain, but, instead of releasing his grip, the hand on Rollie’s throat tightened.

Rollie’s head was pounding from the lack of oxygen.  Red and white streaks were shooting through his vision.  Blackness began eating away at the edges of his sight, working quickly inward.  His grip on the man’s knife arm started to weaken, and he felt the pain as the blade’s tip entered his skin.

Suddenly, his assailant was knocked violently off him.  As Rollie gasped and choked for air, he saw someone struggling with the man.  A few seconds later, there came the unmistakable sound of a neck snapping, and the struggling ceased.  A single figure rose to his feet.

“Rollie, are you all right?” came a voice that the Aussie recognized as Patrick’s.

“Yeah, I’ll be okay,” the Aussie told him, his voice weak and hoarse.  The corporal helped him to his feet.  “It’s a good thing you came by.”

“I didn’t just walk by, Rollie.  I was in the house when Angie came barreling out of your workshop, screaming that you needed help.  She told me right where you were.”

Rollie stared at him.  Angie had heard his silent cries for help.  He looked down at the still figure on the ground.  “Who is it?”

Patrick turned the body over to reveal the face of one of the people who’d been at the meeting.  “I guess they had two spies among the guests, after all,” the corporal commented.  “Apparently, this one was going to stay behind at the meeting until the last possible moment to make sure that nobody left.”  He looked up at Rollie and saw the blood on the Aussie’s shirt.  “Come on.  Let’s get you back to the house.  It looks like you’ve got some nasty cuts there.”

They were almost to the house when Rollie came to an abrupt halt.  “Oh my God!  Angie!”  He sprinted the rest of the way to the house, Patrick right behind him.  Taking the steps three at a time, he streaked upstairs.  He threw the door of the workshop open just in time to see a man plunge a knife into Angie’s back.

“Nooo!” Rollie cried.  As Angie fell, the Aussie, screaming in rage and anguish, leapt upon the man, knocking him to the floor, the knife flying from the attacker’s grasp.  Sobs tearing at his chest, Rollie wrapped his fingers around the man’s throat, as the other man had with him, and squeezed with all his strength.

All at once, hands were on his arms, dragging him away, as someone else grabbed Angie’s attacker and pinned him to the floor.  Rollie fought off the arms holding him and scrambled on his hands and knees toward his wife.  Her face was white and drawn.  Blood soaked the carpet beneath her.

“Oh, God!  Oh, God!” Rollie sobbed, tears pouring down his face.  For one horrible moment, he thought that she was dead.  Then he abruptly became aware that he could still feel her songline.  At almost the same time, he noticed that she was breathing.  The knowledge that Angie was alive was enough to bring back a small measure of the calm he usually had in crisis situations.  He pulled out his handkerchief, gently lifted her up, and pressed it against the wound.  Cradling her in his arms, he looked up at Hashim, who had come in a short time ago.

“Help is on the way, Rollie.  He’ll be here at any moment,” the sheik said, his expression reflecting distress and anxiety.

Rollie’s gaze returned to his wife’s face.  “Help is almost here, Angel.  Just hang on.”  He could feel her blood soaking into his pants and covering the hand that held the handkerchief.  Anguish welled up in him again.  “Please don’t leave me, Angie.  I can’t live without you,” he whispered brokenly.  Just then, Angie’s eyelids fluttered open.  Rollie grabbed her hand and held onto it tightly.  “It’s all right, baby.  Just lie still.  Help will be here soon.”

“Rol,” Angie croaked.

“Shh shhh.  Don’t talk, sweetheart.  You’re going to be okay.  You just need to lie still.”

Someone moved past him and knelt on Angie’s other side.  Rollie looked up to see Hashim’s doctor.  Never happier to see anyone in his life, the Aussie lowered Angie to the floor and watched as the man took her pulse and respiration.  With Rollie’s help, he carefully turned her onto her side so that he could examine the wound.  Angie gasped with pain and bit her lip.  The Aussie’s grip on her hand tightened.

A few minutes later, the doctor looked up.  He got some bandages from his bag and pressed them against the wound, then eased Angie back down.  “You were very fortunate, Angela.  The knife did not hit any organs or arteries or even do any serious muscle damage that I can see.  It’s mostly soft tissue damage.  The wound will have to be cleaned and sutured, of course, and you will have to keep that arm in a sling for a few days.  You also lost a good deal of blood, but not enough to warrant a transfusion, though you will be feeling weak for a while.  You are going to be all right.”

“Thank God,” Rollie whispered fervently.  He smiled down at his wife and brushed back the hair from her forehead.  “I guess I’m not going to get rid of you after all.”

“It’ll take more than a guy with a knife get me out of the way,” Angie declared weakly.

Rollie’s gaze lifted from his wife’s face to the man who had tried to kill her.  Really looking at the man for the first time, he was shocked when he realized who it was.  The food service man who had stepped forward and voiced his desire to help them against the extremists glared at him, hatred burning bright in his eyes.

“Why?” Rollie asked.  “Why are you doing this?”

The man said nothing.

“He can’t talk, Rollie,” Chuck told him.  “We shoved a rag in his mouth so he couldn’t do the same thing with the tooth as the other one did.”  The lieutenant turned to the doctor.  “Have you any experience with dentistry?”

Doctor Habib studied the extremist coldly.  “No, but I am always looking to expand my field of expertise,” he said.

Rollie blinked and stared at the man in shock.  He couldn’t believe that the doctor had actually said that.  Having a doctor angry with you could be a frightening thing.  Apparently, the extremist thought so too because there was a tad less color in his face than there had been before.

Doctor Habib gave Angie something to easy the pain, then he cleaned and stitched up the wound.  After he was done, he filled another syringe with something else and approached the prisoner.  “This should keep him quiet for a while until I have a chance to take care of that tooth.”  He injected the fluid into the man’s arm, who had to be held down for the process.  The doctor then turned back to Angie, who had sat up with Rollie’s help.  “All right, let us get you into bed.”

“No.  I want to stay here, at least until we find out what he’s going to tell us,” Angie said, nodding at the extremist.

“Angie, you need to lie down and rest,” Rollie said firmly.

“If you were in my place, would you?” she asked him pointedly.

Rollie squirmed under her gaze.  “No, I guess not,” he finally admitted.

“Well, that settles that.”  She looked down at the blood on his shirt, then noticed the red marks on his throat.  Concern came into her eyes.  “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, there’s nothing that won’t heal.”

Angie was settled onto the couch, and the doctor put a sling on her arm.  He then treated Rollie’s cuts, neither of which were deep enough for stitches.  By that time, the extremist was fully under the effects of the drug the doctor had given him.  He looked quite passive, half-asleep.  Doctor Habib found the poison-filled tooth, injected a local anesthetic into the area, then pulled the molar.  The extremist gave a faint moan of pain.  “Oh, I am terribly sorry.  I guess I did not wait long enough for the anesthetic to take effect,” the doctor murmured.  “I promise I will do better next time.”

Rollie stifled a laugh, as did a couple of other people.  The good doctor was definitely ticked off at these extremists, and with good cause.  The Aussie had found out a while back that Doctor Habib had been the one to deliver Hashim and had been his doctor ever since then.  He was like a family member to the Alafas.

Rollie studied the extremist’s face.  The man almost looked drunk.  ‘Hmm.  Now, there’s a thought,’ Rollie said to himself.  What happens when some people get drunk?  They talk.  The Aussie squatted before the man.  “What is your name?”

“Raffin Oman,” the extremist replied, his voice slurred.

“Do you know where you are, Raffin?”

“I am being held prisoner by the dog Westerners.”

“Do you know what your brothers in Silent Lion plan to do to the Westerners?”

“Yes.  We will destroy them, bring their civilizations to ruin.  They will come to know the day that the Lion roared and see it as the hour of their death.”  There was passion in the man’s voice.

“Raffin, where is the transmitting station that will be used to broadcast the subliminal messages to the satellite?”

“I do not know, and, even if I did, I would die before revealing it.”

“Don’t all of Silent Lion’s members know where the ground station is?” Chuck asked.

“No.  Only the ones who need to know have been told.  In that way, if one of us is captured, he cannot reveal it under torture.”

“Do you know which satellite will be chosen as the one to relay the message?” Angie asked.

The man stayed silent.

“Answer the question, Oman,” Chuck commanded.

“No.  I will not.”

“Rol, we have to know which satellite.  If we don’t, then we won’t be able to track the signal and follow it with ours,” Angie said.

“I know.”  The Aussie turned back to the extremist.  How was he going to get the man to talk?  Even if he was willing to let one of the others rough up Oman, which he wasn’t, he doubted that it would do any good.  Rollie looked up at Chuck.  “Would you be able to get a drug like Sodium Pentothal?  Something to get him to talk?”

“Yeah, but not around here.  It would have to come from one of our allies.  The Brits could probably help with that.  The problem is cutting though the international red tape.  It might be faster to get it from the States.”

“What about you, Hashim?  Would you be able to get your hands on something like that?” Rollie asked.

“I do not know.  Though I do have connections in the government, I am not sure if they would be strong enough to get something like that.  Besides, I am afraid that, since these extremists have now attacked a Saudi target, my government contacts are going to insist on this whole thing being turned over to them.  They were already doing that when I contacted them after the bombing ruse to get their help in continuing the deception.”

“That sounds familiar.  Our FBI, among others, has a tendency to step in and take over a case when they think that it’s gone into their jurisdiction.  Well, we don’t want that to happen, so let’s forget trying to get the stuff from this end.  That brings it back to you, Chuck.  You’d better send for the drug now because we don’t have a lot of time left.”

“I’ll make the call right away,” the lieutenant said.

Rollie returned his attention to Oman.  “Are there any other members of Silent Lion in this house?”  As he had suspected, the answer was silence.  They were not going to get anything more from the man.

After the extremist had been locked in a large, empty closet, and a guard placed at the door, Rollie turned to the doctor.  “I was surprised that you got here so quickly, Doctor,” the Aussie commented.  “You must not have been very far away.”

“No, I was not.  In fact, I was at the front gate.  As we had planned, I went into Riyadh to identify Hashim’s ‘body’, then make arrangements for it to be brought home.  Afterwards, I was going to return to the estate, but Kamilah insisted that I remain in Riyadh.  She said that she had a feeling I would be needed.”

“Why does that not surprise me?” Angie said, phrasing it as a comment rather than a question.

The doctor smiled slightly.  “Her words encouraged me to stay in the area.  I was at the front gate talking to the guards when I received the call.”

“I assume that you and Kamilah put on a good act for our friends,” Rollie said.

“Oh, indeed.  I learned that Kamilah can be quite a fine actress when she has need to be.  We staged the scene in the sitting room, of course.  When the ‘body’ arrives tomorrow, we will play the second act for the benefit of the audience up on the mountain.”

“Well, that should pretty well take care of any lingering suspicions the extremists may have,” Angie said.

After everyone had left, Rollie carried Angie into the bedroom, despite her insistence that she could make it on her own.  He helped her remove the sling and her clothing and get under the covers.  He then stripped off his own clothes and crawled into the bed next to her.  Gently, he pulled her to him and buried his face in her neck.  After a few minutes, Angie felt wetness on her skin and realized that Rollie was crying.  She lifted his head up and looked into his eyes.

“Hey, what’s this for?” she asked softly, wiping away the tears.

“I thought I’d lost you, Ange.  For one terrible moment, I thought you were dead.”  Rollie’s voice was hoarse with emotion.

“You’re not going to lose me, Rol,” Angie said, repeating words that he had spoken to her long ago.

“I love you so much, Angie.  I couldn’t live if. . . .  I’d rather be dead.”

“Please don’t say that.  Rollie, you have to promise me that, if anything ever happens to me, you’ll keep going.  You won’t do anything stupid.  I want your promise.”

“Ange, I can’t--”

“Promise me, Rollie,” she interrupted.  “I’m not going to leave you alone until you do.”

Her husband gazed into her eyes.  “Only if you promise the same thing.”

This time, it was Angie who hesitated.  But then, she realized that it was only fair for Rollie to demand the same thing.  “I promise,” she murmured.

“Then I promise, too.”

Their lips came together in a deep, yet tender kiss, then Rollie drew her to him again.

“Rol?”

“Hmm?”

“I heard you.”

The Aussie lifted his head and searched her face.

“I was in the workshop, and, suddenly, I could hear you crying for help,” Angie continued.  “I knew that you were in terrible danger.  I knew that you were going to die if someone didn’t help you.  Patrick was walking by at the time, and I told him that you needed help.  I told him right where you were.  I just knew somehow.  I was going to go with him, but one of the other men wouldn’t let me.  He said that it was too dangerous.  So I went back in the workshop and waited.  I felt it when you were no longer in danger.”  She sighed.  “I was so busy thinking about you that I didn’t even hear Oman come in.”

“You saved my life, Angie.  I was attacked by an extremist who was masquerading as one of the guests.  If Patrick hadn’t shown up when he did, I’d be dead.”  Rollie stroked her cheek.  “When we were heading back to the house, all at once, I knew that you were in danger.  I got to the workshop as fast as I could, but it wasn’t fast enough to stop him from hurting you.  I’m so sorry.”

“You still saved my life, Rol.  When you burst in the door, I turned toward you.  If I hadn’t, Oman’s knife would probably have found its mark.  Even if it hadn’t the first time, if you hadn’t come like you did, he would have had time to finish the job.”

Rollie shuddered and pulled her closer.

“Rol, how did I know where you were?  I know that it’s that way with you all the time, but I’ve never felt it before.  And when I heard your voice this time, it was so strong and clear, like you were right in the room, calling out to me.”

“I don’t know, Ange.  I do know that this connection between us is growing stronger all the time.  Do you feel me now?”

Angie tried to bring back the sensation she had before, but without success.  Finally, she shook her head.  “No.”  She wasn’t certain if she was relieved or disappointed.  The thought of having the same ability as Rollie was a little frightening.

“Maybe, someday, you will,” Rollie said softly.  “There may come a day when you will feel my songline as strongly as I feel yours.”

“My songline.  You mentioned that before.”

“Yeah.  It means your life force, your spirit.  I can feel it so clearly, like it’s a part of me.”  Rollie stroked her cheek, wishing that he could share with Angie this incredible sensation.

They shared another kiss, then Rollie’s hands began gently stroking Angie’s back and hips as he nuzzled his face into the softness of her breasts.

“You know, I’m very disappointed that I’m not going to get that little refresher course that we talked about earlier,” Angie said.

Rollie’s brow creased for a moment, then he remembered the conversation they’d had before he left for Riyadh.  A grin spread across his face.  “Who says you’re not?”  With that, he threw back the covers, revealing himself to Angie’s eyes.

“Oh, yeah.  I think it’s coming back to me now,” she murmured.  She began caressing her husband, running her good hand over him like a blind person seeking to learn what someone looked like.  After a couple of minutes, she closed her eyes and continued the exploration.

Rollie swallowed tightly as his body responded to the touch.  Unable to stop himself, he gave a soft moan.  Angie’s eyes opened, and she smiled at him.

“Is something wrong, dear?  Is this little review getting too tough for the teacher?” she asked.

“No, no.  I just think that I would like to be the student for a while,” Rollie replied.  He pulled the covers back from Angie, revealing her beautiful form.  He then began to stroke and caress her as she had him, closing his eyes partway into the process.  Angie didn’t hold out quite as long as he had before the expected moan escaped her lips.  The Aussie’s eyes opened, sparkling with laughter.  “Not much self-control there, Ange.  I did a lot better.”

“Well, you have an unfair advantage,” Angie complained.  “You got to use both of your hands.”

“You’re right.  That wasn’t very sporting of me.  I’ll just use one hand from now on.”

“Don’t you dare,” Angie said.  She pulled Rollie to her in a not quite so tender kiss, which heated up very quickly.  They both forgot Angie’s injury, until a twinge of pain reminded her.

Rollie felt her wince and drew away.  “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.  Kissing you would always be worth a little pain.”

“Only a little?” Rollie asked, pouting.

“Okay, I’d walk through fire for your kisses.  Is that good enough?”

“I guess it’ll have to do.”  Rollie sighed dramatically.

“Oh, you are going to be in such big trouble, Mister, when I have two fully functional arms,” Angie threatened.

“Is that a promise?” the Aussie shot back.

They both grinned broadly, then Rollie pulled her to him and settled back against the bed, Angie draped over him.  With a sigh, they drifted off to sleep.
 

CHAPTER NINETEEN -- COUNTERACTION

Angie let out a loud sound of frustration, earning a look from Rollie.  “I hate this!  I could do this ten times faster if it wasn’t for this stupid sling,” she complained.  “I just don’t see why I have to wear it.  I didn’t get stabbed in the arm.”

“Because the doctor said you need to wear it, that’s why,” Rollie said.  “You need to reduce the stress on your shoulder muscles.”

“Well, a fat lot of good unstressed shoulder muscles are going to be if we run out of time and don’t get this thing built.  We’re already losing so much time because of the parts that Chuck has to have sent over from the States.”  She and Rollie had figured out what would be needed for the device they were building and had given the lieutenant a list of parts that they wouldn’t be able to get here.  The request had gone out, and the parts were expected to arrive that afternoon, as was the drug that would be given to the extremist to make him talk.

Between Angie’s work on the computer and Rollie building the actual device--which they called an S.M.G.T., short for Subliminal Message Generator and Transmitter--they had gotten a lot farther along than what others might have, but time was still growing short.  It was a complex device, and Martin Winslow had not anticipated that it might have to be built with only a couple of days’ warning.

Angie shook her head when she thought about Winslow.  He could have avoided all of this if he had just gone to the authorities when he found out about Silent Lion.  But the research into subliminal messages and the building of the S.M.G.T. should have been cleared through the government and should also have been under government management.  He would have gotten into big trouble and would probably have lost his teaching position.  So Winslow had decided to wait until he had an ace in the hole, a way of counteracting what the extremists were going to do.  It had taken him a couple of months to come up with the right combination of audio and visual messages that would do the job.  Yet, afterwards, he had still not contacted the feds.  He’d grown paranoid and fearful, afraid that Silent Lion would find and kill him if he came out of hiding.  In other words, he had been more worried about his own safety than that of millions of other people.

Fortunately, shortly after he came up with his plan to create a counteracting message, he had decided that all of the information he had about Silent Lion, the subliminal messages, and everything else, should be passed on to others in case something happened to him.  He chose three people to be the recipients of this information.  The first calls he’d made to those people had been to confirm that he had chosen correctly.  After that, he began sending all the information he had to them.  One of the people he’d chosen, a woman named Diane Moore, died before the process was complete.  Her death had been an accident, complications from a surgical procedure.  Since it was too late to find someone else, only two people ended up being the receptacles of the information that could save all of Western civilization.  Unfortunately, the extremists must have guessed that Winslow might try to contact his fellow organization members and had apparently bugged all of their homes.  The result was the mess that Angie and Rollie now found themselves in the middle of.

“How do we retrieve the message we have to send?” Angie asked Rollie.  His recollection of the subliminal information the man had sent was still far more complete than hers and Hashim’s.

“It’s on Hashim’s computer.”

“It is?” Angie asked, surprised.  “But how did I miss it?  Winslow must have found some new process for hiding the data that I couldn’t uncover.”

“Well, that’s the funny part.  It isn’t hidden at all.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, it’s sitting right out in the open in its own directory.  It’s actually divided up into dozens of ordinary-looking audio and video files.”

“But, why didn’t Hashim notice all these files on his system that he didn’t recognize?”

Rollie grinned.  “Because in the subliminal message that Winslow sent was a command that made Hashim believe that the files belonged there.  Actually, it was more of a suggestion that he not consciously notice them.  No matter how many times he saw that directory or those files, it would simply not register on him.”

“And, since I was looking for hidden and encrypted data, I didn’t pay any attention to those files when I was searching the computer,” Angie said, shaking her head.  “Amazing.  But how do we use the audio and video files?”

“The instructions were included in the subliminal download.  It’s actually quite simple.”

“So, now we’ve got another problem.  We have to figure out how we’re going to get Hashim’s computer.”

“Yeah.  I guess that somebody will have to go over to the estate in disguise and get it.  I’ll talk to Chuck about that.”

One of Chuck’s men was chosen and, after Rollie had disguised him as a Saudi, the man headed over to the estate.

“I suppose that, by now, my body has been returned home,” Hashim commented as he came in a few minutes later.

“I grieve for your mother’s loss,” Rollie said with a smile.

The sheik looked around at what the couple was doing.  “Is it going to be finished in time?”

“It’ll be finished, one way or another,” Angie said.

“What is this facility that Lieutenant Green was talking about, Rollie?” Hashim asked.

“Um, I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you.  It’s top secret.”  Rollie noticed the look on the Saudi’s face.  “I promise that it isn’t any kind of threat to your country, Hashim, and it isn’t breaking any kind of international law that I know of.”

The sheik looked at him a moment longer, then nodded.  “If you say so, then I know that it is true.”

Rollie smiled, touched by Hashim’s display of trust.

When Chuck’s man returned with the computer, he reported that the watcher in the mountains was gone, which meant that Silent Lion was apparently satisfied that Hashim, Rollie, and Angie were dead.  The couple relaxed at this news.  At least they now had one less thing to worry about. 
Angie set up Hashim’s computer and searched for the directory.  After a moment, she frowned.  “Rollie, I can’t find it.”

The Aussie went over to the screen, glanced down the directory list, and unerringly pointed to it.  “There it is.”

“But I looked there.  I’m sure of it.  Why didn’t I see it?”

“Probably because the part of the subliminal message that reverses the earlier command that ‘programmed’ you not to see the directory hasn’t reached your conscious mind yet.”

Angie stared at the directory and found that her eyes kept wanting to pass right over it, ignore it.  “That is too weird.”  She looked up at her husband.  “Rollie?  This technology.  It’s too dangerous.  With something like this, you could control anyone you wanted to.  It’s like instant brainwashing.  It could be the ultimate weapon.  It is the ultimate weapon, a weapon that can kill people in a dozen different ways, yet leave no trace behind.  It terrifies me.”  She suddenly thought of something.  “We sent a copy of the conversations with the subliminal instructions to the feds.  That means that, by now, there are probably a dozen or so government people who have those instructions sitting in their subconscious minds just waiting for the key that will release them.”

“I know.  That’s why we have to destroy that tape, the tape with the trigger on it.  Without that, the instructions will just remain scrambled data locked in their subconscious.”

“And what about us, Rollie?  Our government’s not going to just let us walk around free with all this information in our heads.  They’re going to want it.”

“In the end, Winslow finally woke up to how dangerous a thing this was,” Rollie told her.  “There was nothing that he could do about the S.M.G.T. that would be built to stop Silent Lion or any others that would be built using that one as a prototype, but he could make sure that the people who received the subliminal instructions wouldn’t be able to pass the information on to any more people.  You see, there was one final command that was downloaded into our brains.  As soon as the S.M.G.T. has been built and used to stop Silent Lion, all the instructions and other information will be ‘forgotten’, buried so deeply in our subconscious minds that not even hypnosis will be able to retrieve them.  Winslow’s understanding of the conscious and subconscious mind was staggering, not to mention the fact that he was a genius to have been able to devise the S.M.G.T.  It’s a shame that he was such a fool not to have seen the danger in what he was doing.”

The parts for the S.M.G.T. and the truth drug arrived that afternoon as expected.  Everyone had decided that it would be best to have the doctor administer the drug to the prisoner, just in case the man had a severe reaction to it.  Because of duties at the hospital, Doctor Habib would not be able to get there until late that evening.

Now that they had all the parts that they needed, they could finish the S.M.G.T.  It was ten o’clock by the time it was completed.  Angie transferred the files from Hashim’s computer to the ambler, which had been set up to interact with the S.M.G.T.  As she was doing that, the doctor arrived.

The captive extremist was brought into the workshop and tied to a chair.  Doctor Habib injected the drug into the man.  A few minutes later, it was time to start asking the questions.

“Raffin, are there any other members of Silent Lion here?” Rollie asked.

“I do not know.  Those of us who were assigned this duty were not told who the fellow spies were so that if one of us was caught, he would not be able to betray his brother member.” 

“What time will the subliminal message be sent to the satellite?”

“Many times.  It will be sent many times,” the man replied.

“I guess that would make sense,” Angie said.  “The differences in time zones would make it necessary to broadcast at different times to different countries.  Also, they would want to ‘infect’ as many people as possible, so they would rebroadcast the message several times throughout the day.”

“When is the first broadcast going out?” Rollie asked Oman.

“Tomorrow.”

“We know that.  When exactly tomorrow?” Chuck asked.

“I do not know.”

“What satellite are they going to use to relay the message?” Rollie asked.

A look of strain grew on the man’s face.  He shook his head.

“What satellite, Raffin?” the Aussie asked again.

The extremist shook his head again.  “Nnnoo.  Nnoo,” he muttered.

“He’s fighting it,” Chuck said.  “He’s fighting the drug.”

“Can we give him a higher dosage?” Rollie asked the doctor.

“Not without the risk of killing him.”

“Let me try,” Hashim said.  He squatted before Oman, and began speaking to him in Arabic.  The extremist kept muttering, this time in Arabic, his head shaking violently.  Sweat was beading on his forehead.

The sheik rose.  “I am sorry.  It is no use.  His hatred is simply too deep-seated.  Even the drug will not make him betray Silent Lion.”

Rollie and Angie looked at each other, then they both turned toward the television.  Smiles on their faces, they looked back at each other.

“Let’s get it set up,” Rollie said.  They went to the other side of the room.

A young corporal named Juan Vasquez leaned toward Patrick.  “Does that spook you as much as it spooks me?” he asked.

“Yeah, but that was nothing.  You should have been there last night when all that stuff went on.  Talk about spooky.  There is definitely some kind of weird psychic thing going on between those two.”

A few minutes later, Rollie asked that Oman be brought over to the television, which was now on.

“What are you going to do?” Chuck asked as the man was moved.

“We’re going to run our first test of this S.M.G.T.,” Angie replied.  “The rest of you had better keep your eyes turned away from the TV.”  She keyed in a few commands on the ambler, then she and Rollie turned toward Oman.

“Watch the TV, Raffin,” Rollie said.

The man’s eyes focused on the television.  Everyone watched as the stress on his face eased and his expression grew calm and peaceful.

“There are no enemies here, Raffin,” Rollie murmured soothingly.  “We are not your enemies.”

“No enemies,” the extremists said, his voice trance-like.

“Do you have any idea when the message is going to be sent tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me.”

“In the morning, sometime after sunrise.  I do not know exactly when.”

“What satellite is going to be used to relay the subliminal message?”

He told them without hesitation.

“Do you know the names of other Silent Lion members and where they can be found?” Chuck asked.

“Yes.”

The lieutenant grabbed a writing pad and a pencil.  “Give me the names and locations.”

Oman rattled off a list of names and places.  Shortly after he finished, he lost consciousness.

“That is the drug,” Doctor Habib said.  “We will not get anything more from him tonight.”

“Well, we found out what we really needed to know,” Rollie said.

“What about the exact time of the first broadcast?” Chuck asked.

“I can deal with that,” Angie declared.

“Glad to hear it,” the lieutenant said.  “Okay, I guess we need to get all this stuff over to the base.”  He turned to his men.  “Carter?  You and Baker help the Tylers load their stuff into the truck.  Vasquez?  Gather the other men together and have them get some of the sheik’s men to take over their guard positions in the house.  I want all of us at the base just in case it turns out that we have some unfriendlies there.”

“Unfriendlies at the base, sir?” Patrick said, surprise in his voice.

“Yes.  I don’t much like the thought either, but we can’t be too careful.”

Forty minutes later, all of Chuck’s men were gathered outside, and the S.M.G.T., the ambler, and everything else they would need had been carefully packed into boxes and loaded into the truck.

The lieutenant looked at Hashim.  “I’m sorry, but you will have to stay here.  It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s just that my butt’s already going to be in a sling when my superiors find out that I let the Tylers see the facility.  With them, I can say that it was necessary, but with you. . . .”

“I understand.  I would not want you to get into trouble with your superiors,” the sheik said.  “Please keep in contact with me, though, so I know what has happened.”

“We’ll do that, don’t worry.”

“How much trouble are you really going to get into for revealing the existence of the facility to us?” Rollie asked on the way over to the base.  He and Angie were both in the cab with the lieutenant.

“It isn’t going to be pleasant, I can tell you that, but they’ll see that it was necessary.  They will, of course, make you swear not to speak of it to anyone.”

“Of course,” Angie said.

They got onto the base without any delays and headed straight over to the building that housed the entrance to the underground facility.  All of the equipment was put into the elevator.

“The rest of you men stay here,” Chuck ordered.  “And stay alert.  Come tomorrow morning, this will all be over.”

He rode down in the elevator with Rollie and Angie.  The equipment was set up in the communications room.

“Okay, so how are you going to find out exactly when the first broadcast is going to be?” Chuck asked Angie.

“The frequency that this S.M.G.T. uses for transmitting is unique.  The device that the extremists have would use that same frequency.  Now that we know which satellite is going to be used to relay the message, I can monitor it and keep an eye out for a signal coming in at that frequency.  The instant that it does, our message will be automatically transmitted.”

“What if we hadn’t found out which was the right satellite?” the lieutenant asked.

“Then I would have had to monitor all of the possible satellites.  There would have been a longer delay in getting our signal sent out.  I don’t know how that would have affected things.”

“Will you be able to tell where the signal originated from?” Chuck asked.

“Yes, we can trace it back to its source.  No problem.”

Angie got everything set up so that the satellite would be monitored by the system and the signal automatically sent out.

“Now, all we have to do is wait,” Rollie said.  “The moment that Silent Lion sends their message we’ll counteract it and find out where their ground station is.”

“I’m afraid that I can’t allow that to happen,” someone said behind them.

They spun around and stared in shock at the man who’d spoken.  Craig Baker stood inside the doorway, his gun trained on them.

“Baker, what the hell is this?” Chuck asked.

“I should think that you’d have figured that out, Lieutenant.”

“You’re one of them?!”

The man smiled.  “Very much so.”  The smile disappeared.  “Now, please remove your weapon from its holster with two fingers, drop it on the ground, and kick it over here.  Do not try anything.”

Chuck did as he was told.  “You’re an American.  How could you--”

“I am not an American!” Baker spat.  “I underwent plastic surgery to make myself look more like your race.  My true name is Mohammad Akbar Amini.”

Rollie studied the man’s appearance.  Dark hair, dark eyes, swarthy skin, the Aussie had assumed that the man was part Latino.

Amini returned his gaze.  “You were quite a surprise to me, Tyler.  I had not anticipated that you would be able to disarm my bombs.”

“Your bombs?  You were the one who built them?”

“Yes.”  An amused smile curved his lips.  “How ironic that the man whom you sought help from in disarming the bombs was the very one who built them.”

“You were alone in the conference room with the other bomb.  Why didn’t you detonate it when you had the chance?  Were you afraid to die?” Chuck asked, his voice full of hatred.

The man turned cold eyes on him.  “I will give my life for Silent Lion if that becomes necessary.  I did not detonate the bomb because that would only have succeeded in killing you, your men, and Tyler.  The members of Martin Winslow’s organization would have been left alive, as would Mrs. Tyler and Sheik Alafa.  I would have detonated the bomb in the conference room after the meeting began, but Tyler was very thorough in disarming it, and you had me stationed on the other side of the room.”  He had been one of the men who remained in his Saudi disguise and stayed for the meeting because of his fluency in Arabic.

“As it turns out, this will work out much better,” Amini continued, looking at Rollie and Angie.  “You will die, your device will be destroyed, and there will be no chance of your government building another one in time.”  He smiled again.  “And you will die knowing that you failed and that your country is going to suffer destruction because of it.”

“Rollie?  He’s the man who told me to stay in the house when you were attacked,” Angie said.

Rollie glared at Amini.  “You knew that Raffin was going to try to kill her.”

Amini nodded.  “When I found out that my fellow Silent Lion brothers were planning a strike against you, I knew that one of them would go after Mrs. Tyler, so I made sure that she would be easy to find.  After you and she were dead and all of your work destroyed, I would have made sure that Sheik Alafa didn’t survive to tell what he knew to others.  You see, though we did not know who our brothers were among the guests and other people at the meeting, we did have a way of contacting each other.  We left messages taped to the toilet tank lid in the main bathroom downstairs.”

“How long have you been stationed at the base?” Chuck asked.  “You were there when I arrived.”

“Almost a year.  We knew that it would be wise to have one of us there to keep an eye on things.  I was chosen because of my knowledge of explosives and my mastery of the English language.”

“How did you know about my connection with the U.S. Government?”

“I didn’t, not until you called a team together and took them over to Sheik Alafa’s estate.  I was watching you closely ever since the party that you invited the Tylers to because I suspected that there might have been more to it than a chance meeting in a restaurant.  When you called for men to join you on a special mission, I knew that something was happening.  I was quick to remind you of my knowledge of explosives and my skill in speaking Arabic.  Realizing the value of these things, you chose me to be on your team, as I knew you would.”

The extremist turned to Rollie and Angie.  “You have been a surprise right from the start.  First, you foil our attempt to kill Alafa, then you come here and actually manage to discover the plan that we so carefully constructed.  You then do the seemingly impossible by building another device in less than two days’ time.  I do not understand what this thing is between you that allows you to communicate without words or visual signals, but it makes no difference now.”

“How did you get down here?  What did you do to the rest of my men?” Chuck asked.

“They are sleeping quite soundly above.  I had a small gas canister to be used in a situation like this.  By the time they have awakened, you will all be dead, your equipment destroyed, and I will be on my way to join my brothers in our day of victory.”  The man’s gun leveled on Chuck and his finger tightened on the trigger.
 

CHAPTER TWENTY -- OPPOSING FORCES

“Except that you forgot one thing,” the lieutenant said quickly.

“What’s that?”

“The guard who was stationed above.  His shift is over.  By now, his replacement has arrived, seen what’s happened, and sounded the alarm.”  Even as he spoke, a loud alarm blared through the complex.

Distracted by the sudden sound, Amini frantically looked behind him.  Moving with amazing speed, Chuck dove toward the man.  The extremist spun back around just as the lieutenant tackled him.  The gun went off, and both Rollie and Angie ducked for cover.

The two men rolled across the floor, fighting for control of the gun.  The pistol went off twice more, sending bullets flying through the room.

“Angie, get behind that cabinet!” Rollie yelled.  The blonde scrambled behind the steel filing cabinet, then turned to see Rollie crawling, not away from the fighting men, but toward them.

“Rollie!  What are you doing?!”

Her husband didn’t answer.  She looked over at the lieutenant and the extremist.  Amini had managed to pin Chuck to the floor and was slowly forcing the gun toward the American’s head.

Chuck saw the barrel of the pistol slowly swiveling in his direction, despite the fact that he was fighting with all his strength to keep it away.  A few inches more and Amini would pull the trigger.  Then, suddenly, there was a loud thunk, and the extremist collapsed bonelessly on top of him.  Chuck looked up and met Rollie’s gaze.  The Australian was holding Chuck’s gun in his hand.  He had used it as a club.

“Thanks.  I owe you one,” the lieutenant said.

“Think nothing of it,” Rollie replied.  He helped pull Amini off Chuck, then handed the weapon he had to the lieutenant.  Chuck scooped up the extremist’s gun and stuck both pistols in his belt.  He then pulled Amini’s belt off and tied the man’s hands behind his back.

“I should put a bullet though your head, but I’ll let the courts execute you for murder and terrorism instead,” Chuck growled at the unconscious man.

Rollie looked down the hallway.  “So, where’s the cavalry?”

“Still up top napping, I’d guess,” Chuck replied.

“What about the alarm and the change in guards?”

“The guard’s shift doesn’t end for another two hours.  I set off the alarm with a button on the panel that was behind me.”

Rollie smiled.  “Quick thinking.”

“That’s what I’m paid for.”

“Oh no!” Angie cried behind them.

Rollie spun around.  Angie was looking at the communications equipment.  Two bullets had struck it, shattering vital components.

“Bloody hell!”  Rollie turned to Chuck.  “I sure hope that you’ve got replacement parts here for that thing.”

“Yeah, but it looks pretty bad.  How will you get it fixed in time?”

“We’ll get it fixed.  We have to.  Show me where the spare parts and the tools are kept, then you can go on up and check on your men.”

The newlyweds got to work on the damaged equipment while Chuck went up to try reviving his men.

“This thing’s a mess, Rol.”

“I know.  I just hope we’ve got everything we need to repair it.”  The Aussie looked over at the unconscious extremist.  “When we were trying to figure out how to disarm the bombs, he seemed like a good guy.  I just can’t believe that he’s one of them.”  He shook his head, then got back to work.

Chuck returned twenty minutes later.  No longer able to fully trust his own men, he had made them empty all of their pockets to make sure that there were no more hidden gas canisters.  Then, leaving them to watch each other, he had come back down the elevator and locked it and the shaft down so that no one else would be able to drop in on them unexpectedly.

Shortly after he got back, Amini awoke.  The lieutenant locked him in the same room that Rollie had used to disarm the bomb in.

The newlyweds worked through the night, repairing what could be fixed, bypassing what couldn’t.  By the time they finished the repairs and had double-checked everything to make sure that all the equipment was working, they were both exhausted.

“Why don’t you two grab a couple of hours’ sleep,” Chuck suggested.  “You’ll need it come morning.”

The lieutenant led them to one of the sleeping quarters.  Not even bothering to take off their shoes, Rollie and Angie collapsed on the bed, both of them somehow managing to fit on the twin-sized mattress.  They were asleep almost immediately.

It seemed like two minutes rather than two hours later when Chuck awoke them.  They hit the bathrooms, splashed cold water on their faces, then headed to the communications room.  They were greeted by two steaming cups of coffee.

“Coffee?  You mean they keep food supplies down here?” Angie asked as she gratefully accepted the cup.

“Sure.  If this place ever had to be used in an emergency, it would be unlikely that the people who came down here would have had a chance to bring a supply of food along.  It’s mostly freeze-dried  stuff.  Some frozen and canned goods too, but they have to be replaced with fresh supplies periodically.  They might last quite a while, but not forever.  If you’re hungry, I can fix you some powdered eggs, frozen bacon, and hash browns.”

“Yum,” Rollie said sarcastically.  “Actually, I guess we had better eat now.  We don’t know how long we’re going to have to sit here waiting for the signal to be sent.”

Chuck went off to play chef while the newlyweds checked everything again.

“Rollie, I’ve been thinking.  What target do you think that they’d want to hit first?”

“My guess would be the U.S.”

Angie nodded.  “And what would be the best time to do that?”

“In the evening, when everybody’s watching TV.  Wait a minute, I see where you’re going with this.  Let’s see, the East Coast is seven hours behind us, what with Daylight-saving time.  Then, eight, nine, and ten hours for the Central, Mountain, and Pacific time zones.  So, if they started broadcasting at. . . .”  Rollie’s eyes widened.  “Angie, to hit the whole country at the same time, they’d have to--” A loud buzzer interrupted him.

“Rollie, they’re transmitting now!” Angie cried.

“Damn!  It’s before sunrise!  Oman was wrong!”  Rollie ran to the intercom phone and dialed the number for the kitchen.  “Chuck, they’re sending now!” Rollie yelled the instant the lieutenant answered.  He heard a curse, a clattering of pans, then silence.

The system, set up to automatically activate once the signal was detected, immediately sent the counteracting message.  At the same time, two tracers were activated.  One began tracking the extremist’s signal as it was relayed from satellite to satellite.  Following it was Winslow's subliminal message, like a hound tracking and chasing a fox.  The other tracer followed the signal back down to its source.

Rollie heard running feet, and Chuck skidded into the room.  “Where are they?  Where’s the ground station?” the lieutenant asked.

Angie looked at the readout and jotted down the coordinates.  Chuck snatched the paper from her hand and went to the telephone.

“Coach, this is the quarterback.  The ball is in the air.  I repeat, the ball is in the air.  The goalpost is at. . . .”  Chuck read off the coordinates of the extremist’s ground station.  “We’ve got green for interception.  You are a go.”  He listened to the person on the other end for a few seconds, then hung up.

“What was that all about?” Rollie asked.

“I’ve been keeping my superiors updated on our progress throughout this thing.  We’ve had jets armed to the teeth and standing by at a Saudi airbase waiting for my signal.  They’re going to bomb the hell out of that ground station.  But, before they do, a squad of marines is going to parachute in and take the underground control room.  We want to capture as many of the extremists alive as possible.”

“And you couldn’t have told us all this before?” Angie asked.

“You guys had enough on your minds,” the lieutenant said with a smile.

Angie looked at the ambler’s monitor.  “We were right, Rollie.  They targeted North America with this one.”

“They would have hit Australia next, then Europe, and, as more people heard about the chaos that was going on in the States, they would have turned on their televisions and radios to find out what was going on,” the Aussie said.

“Causing still more people to be affected,” Angie concluded.

The three people stared at the ambler’s screen.  Thousands of miles away, a kind of battle was being waged between two opposing forces, one was a message of hatred, fear, and violence, the other, a message of love, joy, and peace.  One message would cost the lives of millions, the other would save them.  Which one would win?

The silence was finally broken by Chuck.  “How long before we know if the counteracting signal worked?”

“Well, if it didn’t, the effects of Silent Lion’s message would already be showing up,” Rollie said.  “There’s no way that we can know until someone calls us.  Unless. . . .”  He picked up the phone and dialed David Rain’s cell phone.  “Hey, David,” he said when the man answered.  Hearing something in the background, he added, “I’m surprised that you’re home.”

“I wasn’t going to be for much longer.  I was just about to head back to the office.  Rollie, why are you calling?  It’s almost sunrise over there.  Isn’t the signal supposed to be broadcast soon?”

“It already has been, just a few minutes ago.”

“What?!”

“Is that the TV I hear?  Were you just watching it?”

“Yeah, I was.  But . . . nothing happened.  I feel fine.”

“Maybe you should step outside and glance around the neighborhood.”

The FBI agent went outside with his phone.  “Everything’s quiet out here, or as quiet and it ever is.  Rollie, does this mean that Winslow’s message worked?”

A grin spread across the Aussie’s face.  “It sure does.”

“That’s fantastic!  Wait a sec.  I got another call coming in.  Hold on.”  Rollie was put on hold.  While he waited, he told Angie and Chuck that all was quiet in David’s neighborhood.

“That was from the office,” David said when he came back on the line.  “They just told me the same thing you did and said that there’s no sign of trouble anywhere.  It worked, Rollie, it really worked.  So, what’s next?”

“I guess we wait to see if the marines take the ground station.”

As the Aussie hung up, he turned to Angie and Chuck.  They all just looked at each other for a few seconds, then they started laughing and cheering.  Angie hugged Rollie.   Rollie hugged Angie.  Then Angie hugged Chuck, who hugged her back.  Rollie and Chuck shared a hearty handshake as they patted each other’s shoulders.

The lieutenant turned to the phone and called the guard station above.  “Let me talk to Corporal Carter.”  There was a pause.  “We did it.  Silent Lion’s signal has been counteracted, and the extremists are being taken down.”  The sound of cheering could be heard over the phone.  “We’ll be staying down here to wait for word on the takedown,” Chuck continued.  “We’ll let you know when it’s complete.”  He then made another call.  “Coach, this is the catcher.  It’s a home run.  You are a go to bring everyone home.”

“First football, now baseball.  What’s next?  Basketball or hockey?” Rollie asked with a grin.

The lieutenant returned the grin.  “That was to send people out to pick up the extremists on that list that Raffin Oman gave us.”

Rollie called Hashim and gave him the good news.

An hour later, a call came in.  Chuck listened to the person on the other end for a couple of minutes, then hung up.  “It was a success.  No marine casualties.  They managed to capture five extremists.  The rest were either killed in the attack or committed suicide.  The five survivors are being held for interrogation.  The ground station has been destroyed, both the antenna and the control room.”

“It’s over, Angie.  We did it.”  Rollie hugged his wife again.

“Now comes the part where we identify and capture the rest of Silent Lion,” Chuck said.  “We should be able to get more names from the people we capture from the list and the ones taken at the ground station.  Between them all, we should be able to pretty well wipe out Silent Lion.”

“Shall we tell our ‘guest’ the news?” Rollie asked.

Mohammed Amini glared at then silently as they told him about the failure of the extremists’ plans.  The man would, no doubt, have had a few choice words to say, but Chuck had shoved a cloth in his mouth and gagged him shortly after the man had awoken to prevent him from poisoning himself.

A little over an hour later, they were all back at the house belonging to Hashim’s friends.  Everyone was happy, especially the five food service men who had finally been allowed to call their families.  Rollie found out from them that Raffin Oman had been a new employee, hired only a week ago.  All of the people from the meeting were allowed to leave.