Deception Point Page 92

Through the obscurity, a staccato burst from the nose of the chopper sent a deluge of shots biting over the Goya's fiberglass deck, cutting a line over the harsh. Rachel dove for spread past the point of no return and felt the singing cut of a slug touch her arm. She hit the ground hard, at that point moved, scrambling to get behind the bulbous straightforward arch of the Triton sub. A roaring of rotors detonated overhead as the chopper dipped past the boat. The commotion vanished with a shocking murmur as the chopper soared out over the sea and started a wide bank for a subsequent pass. Lying trembling on the deck, Rachel kept her arm and looked down at Tolland and Corky. Clearly having thrusted to cover behind a capacity structure, the two men were currently stunning to their feet, their eyes filtering the skies in dread. Rachel pulled herself to her knees. The whole world out of nowhere appeared to be moving in moderate movement. Squatted behind the straightforward shape of the Triton sub, Rachel glanced in alarm toward their lone ways to get out the Coast Guard helicopter. Xavia was at that point moving into the chopper's lodge, quickly waving for everybody to get on board. Rachel could see the pilot lurching into the cockpit, fiercely tossing switches and switches. The edges started to turn†¦ gradually. Too gradually. Rush! Rachel felt herself standing currently, getting ready to run, thinking about whether she could make it over the deck before the aggressors made another pass. Behind her, she heard Corky and Tolland running toward her and the holding up helicopter. Truly! Rush! At that point she saw it. A hundred yards out, up in the sky, appearing out of void haziness, a pencil-slim light emission light inclined over the night, looking through the Goya's deck. At that point, discovering its imprint, the shaft ground to a halt on the holding up Coast Guard chopper. The picture took just a moment to enlist. In that terrible second, Rachel felt all the activity on the deck of the Goya obscure into a montage of shapes and sounds. Tolland and Corky running toward her-Xavia motioning fiercely in the helicopter-the obvious red laser cutting over the night sky. It was past the point of no return. Rachel spun back toward Corky and Tolland, who were running max throttle now toward the helicopter. She lurched outward into their way, arms outstretched attempting to stop them. The impact felt like a train wreck as them three collided with the deck in a knot of arms and legs. Out there, a glimmer of white light showed up. Rachel viewed in dismay and frightfulness as a consummately straight line of fumes fire followed the way of the laser shaft straightforwardly toward the helicopter. At the point when the Hellfire rocket hammered into the fuselage, the helicopter detonated separated like a toy. The blackout wave of warmth and clamor roared over the deck as flaring shrapnel poured down. The helicopter's flaring skeleton swayed in reverse on its broke tail, wavered a second, and afterward tumbled off the rear of the boat, colliding with the sea in a murmuring haze of steam. Rachel shut her eyes, unfit to relax. She could hear the flaring destruction murmuring and faltering as it sank, being hauled away from the Goya by the overwhelming flows. In the turmoil, Michael Tolland's voice was shouting. Rachel felt his incredible hands attempting to pull her to her feet. In any case, she was unable to move. The Coast Guard pilot and Xavia are dead. We're straightaway. 111 The climate on the Milne Ice Shelf had settled, and the habisphere hushed up. All things considered, NASA chairman Lawrence Ekstrom had made an effort not to rest. He had gone through the hours alone, pacing the vault, gazing into the extraction pit, running his hands over the sections in the goliath scorched stone. At long last, he'd decided. Presently he sat at the videophone in the habisphere's PSC tank and investigated according to the President of the United States. Zach Herney was wearing a wraparound and didn't see all diverted. Ekstrom realized he would be fundamentally less delighted when he realized what Ekstrom needed to let him know. When Ekstrom got done with talking, Herney had an awkward look all over as though he suspected he should in any case be too sleeping to even think about having seen effectively. â€Å"Hold on,† Herney said. â€Å"We must have a terrible association. Did you simply reveal to me that NASA captured this current shooting star's directions from a crisis radio transmission-and afterward imagined that PODS found the meteorite?† Ekstrom was quiet, alone in obscurity, willing his body to alert from this bad dream. The quietness unmistakably didn't agree with the President. â€Å"For Christ's purpose, Larry, disclose to me this isn't true!† Ekstrom's mouth went dry. â€Å"The shooting star was discovered, Mr. President. That is all that is significant here.† â€Å"I said reveal to me this isn't true!† The quiet expand to a dull thunder in Ekstrom's ears. I needed to let him know, Ekstrom let himself know. It will deteriorate before it shows signs of improvement. â€Å"Mr. President, the PODS disappointment was slaughtering you in the surveys, sir. At the point when we caught a radio transmission that referenced an enormous shooting star held up in the ice, we saw an opportunity to get back in the fight.† Herney sounded dazed. â€Å"By faking a PODS discovery?† â€Å"PODS would have been ready for action soon, however not soon enough for the political decision. The surveys were slipping, and Sexton was pummeling NASA, so†¦ â€Å" â€Å"Are you crazy! You misled me, Larry!† â€Å"The opportunity was gazing us in the face, sir. I chose to take it. We caught the radio transmission of the Canadian who made the shooting star revelation. He kicked the bucket in a tempest. No one else realized the shooting star was there. Units was circling in the region. NASA required a triumph. We had the coordinates.† â€Å"Why are you revealing to me this now?† â€Å"I figured you ought to know.† â€Å"Do you realize what Sexton would do with this data on the off chance that he discovered out?† Ekstrom favored not to consider it. â€Å"He'd tell the world that NASA and the White House deceived the American individuals! Also, you comprehend what, he'd be right!† â€Å"You didn't lie, sir, I did. Furthermore, I will step down if-â€Å" â€Å"Larry, you're overlooking the main issue. I've attempted to run this administration on truth and goodness! Goddamn it! Today around evening time was spotless. Noble. Presently I discover I misled the world?† â€Å"Only a little untruth, sir.† â€Å"There's nothing of the sort, Larry,† Herney stated, steaming. Ekstrom felt the minuscule room surrounding him. There was a lot more to tell the President, yet Ekstrom could see it should hold up until morning. â€Å"I'm sorry to have woken you, sir. I just idea you ought to know.† Across town, Sedgewick Sexton endured another shot of cognac and paced his loft with rising aggravation. Where the hellfire is Gabrielle? 112 Gabrielle Ashe sat in the haziness at Senator Sexton's work area and gave his PC a down and out glower. Invalid Password †Access Denied She had attempted a few different passwords that appeared to be likely prospects, yet none had worked. In the wake of looking the workplace for any opened drawers or stray pieces of information, Gabrielle had everything except surrendered. She was going to leave when she spotted something odd, shining around Sexton's work area schedule. Somebody had sketched out the date of the political decision in a red, white, and blue sparkle pen. Absolutely not the representative. Gabrielle pulled the schedule nearer. Decorated over the date was a frilly, sparkling outcry: POTUS! Sexton's excited secretary had clearly glitterpainted some increasingly positive deduction for him for political decision day. The abbreviation POTUS was the U.S. Mystery Service's code name for President of the United States. On political race day, if all worked out in a good way, Sexton would turn into the new POTUS. Planning to leave, Gabrielle realigned the schedule around his work area and held up. She stopped unexpectedly, looking back at the PC screen. Enter Password:_ She took a gander at the schedule.