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Page 17


  The man in blue coveralls nodded to Smitty and went up the steps into the strange aircraft. Smitty walked toward them. They all greeted each other.

  “What do you think of my toy, Syd?” drawled Smitty.

  “I don’t know, Smitty. I’m not sure I even know what it is,” replied Syd with a laugh.

  “This beauty is Shadow-5, the latest of our super-stealth choppers. I’ve been putting her through her paces, checkin’ out all her systems. Most of her systems are our newest available. She’s a beauty, Hatch. She’s got triple backup on the skin circuits,” bubbled Smitty.

  Syd walked over to it and examined its weird skin.

  “Shadow-5? Does that mean there are five of these things, or is that a model number?” asked Syd.

  “Sure ‘nuf, there’s five of these sweethearts, Syd. Each better than the last. The Toy Master is always looking for perfection—especially fail-safe systems,” replied Smitty.

  “Why aren’t there any windows? And this skin is so weird,” Syd observed, running her fingers over it.

  “Well, in a way, the entire skin is a window. It is kinda complicated technically,” Smitty drawled.

  “Before you get into the details, Smitty, which I’m sure Syd would be interested in, I want to arrange a demo. After the demo, I think Syd will have better questions. We are going to the Middle East to wipe out a nest of terrorists, and Syd is skeptical about out ability to be successful. They’re the ones who have been after Syd, by the way,” said Hatch.

  “Now, Syd, have no fear that Hatch can take care of those bastards,” said Smitty. “Let me go fire up the skin systems. I’ll have a demo ready in a few minutes.”

  “Super-stealth? Does that mean radar can’t detect this thing?” queried Syd.

  “Much better than that, Syd,” replied Hatch as Smitty entered the strange aircraft and closed the door behind him. “No known detection system can find this bird. Come over and sit down.”

  Hatch led the two women to a table with several pieces of equipment on it. He motioned for them to sit down. Sara had a smile on her face, because she knew how awed Syd would be in a few minutes. Hatch picked up a headset and put it on and spoke into the boom mike, “OK, Shadow-5. Walk me through the spectrum when you are ready.”

  He turned to Syd and said, “While they get everything up and running in there, let me give you a quick, non-technical overview of what you are about to see. I assume you know about the electromagnetic spectrum, which essentially classifies energy transmission by wavelength from radio waves—the longest wavelength—to gamma rays, the shortest.”

  “This wasn’t one of my strong points in school. Remember, I was in liberal arts, history, and languages,” answered Syd.

  “OK, let me just skim over things. The demo will speak for itself. The skin of that aircraft over there is covered with thousands of small—micro, actually—transceivers of a special design. That means, of course, that they can both transmit and receive,” said Hatch.

  “Are they those bead-like things?” asked Syd.

  “Yes. Now, the skin can be bombarded by all kinds of energy sources—across the entire spectrum: gamma rays, X-rays, ultraviolet, infrared, microwaves, radar, and radio waves. Each bead, if you will, absorbs the energy bombarding its microface. This is analyzed by one of the hundreds of molecule-size computers in the skin subsystem and the signal is transmitted out the bead which is most nearly axial to the receiving bead,” continued Hatch. “The net effect is that the energy beam essentially goes right through the aircraft without reflection.”

  “Wow! Like I said, I’m not much on physics, but I would guess a radar pulse would not give a return, right?” marveled Syd.

  “You’ve got it! Let me demonstrate. This device on the table is a simple radar gun. This screen will register the distance to the object detected by the radar. Now, I’ll turn it on and you can see that the object detected—Shadow-5—is twenty-five feet away. Now, I will have Smitty activate the system to pass through all wavelengths of one millimeter or longer,” said Hatch.

  He called Smitty and explained what test he was trying. Syd watched the radar read-out screen and saw the twenty-five foot number change to 205 feet, about the distance to the far wall of the hangar.

  “So the signal just doesn’t go through, it bounces off the far wall and comes back through—as if the chopper wasn’t even there!” exclaimed Syd.

  “You’re a fast study!” observed Sara with a smile.

  “And that phenomenon is true is true for all wavelengths,” stated Hatch. “Even the visible spectrum, which is a small slice of wavelengths between ultraviolet and infrared.”

  “What? I don’t understand that part,” said Syd, her brow wrinkled.

  “Just watch. Smitty, activate the visible spectrum,” requested Hatch.

  As Syd watched, the body of the helicopter slowly dissolved. She could see the far wall of the hangar, a forklift, and various pieces of equipment. The three wheels stood on the floor and the large rotor and tail propeller were floating in midair.

  “Whoa! Have you got David Copperfield stashed around here somewhere?” gasped Syd. “This is an illusion, right?”

  “In away, but not really. All wavelengths in the visible spectrum are passed through on their axis, just like the radar beam. So what you see is what is behind the chopper,” explained Hatch.

  Syd sat in awe, not believing her eyes. She got up and walked around, trying different angles. She finally walked to the other side of the chopper and she could see Hatch and Sara sitting at the table.

  This is too spooky! If I can believe my eyes, I can see how they can get in and out of Iran without being detected. Freakin’ invisible!

  She walked back to the table and sat down.

  “All right, guys. I’m still not sure I fully understand this, but if I can believe my eyes, I can see how potent this chopper is. This is like Star Wars! What kind of weapons does it carry, if any?” said Syd.

  “Now, that’s my girl! Getting right to the core of the situation!” laughed Hatch. “The Shadow is extremely well armed—better than any gunship in the world. We have four different models of missiles—of our own design, of course. Very powerful, penetrating warheads—some HE (high explosive), some incendiary. No nukes, of course. The missiles have On-board Global Positioning System guidance systems, so once the missile is launched it never misses a stationary target, and rarely misses a moving target because it receives updated positioning information from the Shadow’s Offensive Weapons Control System. Also, we have a .50 caliber automatic rifle with sniper accuracy—single shot, selected bursts, up to full automatic. You’ll see all of this in action soon.”

  “My head’s swimming with so many questions!” exclaimed Syd.

  “We’ll answer them all, in time. How would you like a tour of the interior? Hey, Smitty, drop the steps, we’re coming aboard. By the way, the distortion is much less on this model, and the image is much sharper. We owe the Toy Master a beer when we see him,” said Hatch.

  The door came down and formed steps as the helicopter slowly reappeared between its wheels and rotors. Syd discovered that the interior was unlike any helicopter she had encountered in the Israeli military. It was packed with electronic gear, and computer-like consoles. Even the cockpit looked like it was from a Martian space ship. Hatch gave Syd a brief tour and an even briefer explanation of the equipment. They had a busy day ahead, so more detail would have to be postponed to a more convenient time.

  Back outside, Hatch said, “I’m sorry to put off answering all the questions you must have, Syd, but we have much to do today. That is, if you are still in on this with us.”

  “Since I brought all of this down on your heads in the first place, I have no choice. And seeing the Shadow in operation should be worth the trip. How are you going to get it to Iran?” sighed Syd.

  “We won’t use this one. It is still in operational test. We’ll use Shadow-3, which is currently at our base in Turkey,” answered Hatch. �
�It has been battle-tested, and will do the job quite well.”

  “Turkey? You’re all over the world, aren’t you?” said Syd.

  “That we are. Now, like I said earlier, the GS-V is being readied for flight in Miami. Sara, please call the Turkey people and ask them to ready Shadow-3. I don’t want any outstanding maintenance problems. Syd and I have to deal with the police before we can leave the country. When Syd and I get back, the three of us can pack our bags—enough for three or four days—and then we can chopper over to Miami and be on our way to Israel. Have Bruno transfer our two prisoners over there now,” said Hatch.

  “Isn’t Smitty going with us—to fly the spaceship?” asked Syd.

  “No. He’s needed here to finish the flight testing of Shadow-5. We have a fully-trained air crew in Turkey,” replied Hatch. “Now, let’s get going, Syd. We’ll go to the sheriff’s station in Marco and give our statements, and then we can grab some lunch in Marco.”

  Syd glanced at Sara and caught her eye. Sara gave her a wink and a thumbs up.

  “Not The Blue Grotto, I hope! I don’t know if I’m ready for that place again right now,” groaned Syd.

  “I agree. We can go to Lou’s Crab House. Have you been there?”

  “Yes. I like that place a lot. Well, let’s get this cop thing over with. I hope they don’t give us any trouble!”

  Chapter 16

  Lou’s Crab House, Marco, Florida

  Thursday, August 2, 2001

  12:30 P.M.

  Hatch and Syd had the best table available on the patio of Lou’s Crab House on Marco Island. The patio looked out on the blue waters of the Gulf of Mexico. The owner, Lou Grabano, had greeted them personally and led them to the table he had reserved for them when Hatch had called him from the Collier County Sheriff’s Substation on Marco Island. Syd had a glass of white wine in front of her, and Hatch had opted for a gin on the rocks.

  “Well, that went well, Syd. The cops have closed the case based on the eye witness and the fact that the two sets of prints on the knife belonged to the perps. It corroborates our story,” sighed Hatch. “A clear case of self defense.”

  “Yes, I’m glad that’s over. I wonder if they would have closed the case so quickly without you being who you are. Oh, well. I’m not complaining. Do you realize that we met exactly twenty-four hours ago? It seems as if I’ve known you much longer than that,” said Syd. “At least today you don’t have to ogle me from afar.”

  She laughed, more of a giggle.

  “And I am ogling you shamelessly. I hope that doesn’t make you uncomfortable, because I enjoy admiring your obvious charms. And this time I can talk to you while ogling, which I couldn’t do yesterday. You know, this is the first time we’ve been alone together since we met. When I spotted you yesterday, I was hoping I could figure out a way to get to meet you—ask you for a date. I never dreamed it would happen the way it did, but at least, here we are. Here’s to our one day anniversary!” said Hatch with a smile, lifting his glass.

  Syd felt a tingle scurry up her spine, and a warm feeling permeated her body as she raised her glass and touched it against his.

  He really is interested in me! Don’t screw this up, Syd! He can have any woman in the world if he wants, so why me? Maybe he only wants a one-night stand. I really could be talked into that if I thought there was no chance of something better. But I’m tired of one-night stands. That’s all I’ve had for three years, and not many of those. Also, I don’t want him to think I’m easy, just in case this can go somewhere. But I’m afraid no matter what I do, he’s got to view me as a friggin’ gold digger after his money! I wonder how he deals with that problem. That alone would make forming a relationship difficult for him.

  “Does that mean this is a date? Not just a break in your busy schedule?” laughed Syd. “I can’t tell you how much that pleases me. It has been a very long time since I’ve been on a date. A few drinks with the guys, but no dates.”

  “That’s hard to believe. A beautiful, interesting, and educated woman like you? I would think the men would be lined up around the block,” countered Hatch, meaning it.

  “Thank you for those glowing words! Yes, there were plenty of men lined up, but they were all after something other than a date! Commandos don’t have much patience for chatting over a glass of wine, or holding hands. They like to skip the chase and go straight for the—you know what I mean,” she said, a blush beginning to rise on her neck when she realized what she had almost said.

  Hatch remembered a similar lecture from Kat those many years ago. He would have to be careful. He did not want to get a scathing lecture like he got from Kat about all men being lechers.

  “Well, this is a date! I’m with a gorgeous woman, in a beautiful setting, with a fantastic view. We’re chatting over drinks—I’ll even hold your hand later, if you’ll let me,” he said with a genuine smile.

  “Thank you for all that, Hatch, although I don’t feel gorgeous right now. I’ll bet you have charmed the pants off many women more good-looking than I am. I’m flattered. I really want to apologize for my behavior earlier. I’m just so upset about the mess I’m in—and how I got you involved in it,” she sighed. “Would you hold my hand right now?”

  She reached her left hand across the table and he took it in his right and squeezed it lightly. They sat like that for a long moment.

  She said I’ve charmed women out of their pants! The same accusation I got from Kat! My God, this is weird. Holding her hand feels so good, so right. I wonder if she will let me hug her later. I want to feel her in my arms! But I have to take this slowly or I’ll spook her. I have one of my ‘feelings’ about her. And, in a way, a sense of déjà vu. I haven’t allowed myself to be real close to any woman since Kat. Could something be brewing here? I wonder if I’m finally ready. Or would I put her life at risk as I did Kat’s? Is that what I’m doing by insisting she go to Israel and Iran with me? Am I really being honest about this?

  Syd finally broke the silence.

  “I really need for you to understand, Hatch, that I am not a bloodthirsty killer—not by nature, anyway. It was … how can I make you understand? My parents were not just murdered, they were blown to bits. I didn’t even have anything to bury! I was consumed by a rage that I had never experienced before. Not against the Arabic people, let me make that clear. I loved them—they were my life’s work. But those terrorists! I wanted them all dead!”

  Hatch interrupted her. “You don’t need to relive that, Syd. I understand completely. I’ve felt that kind of rage myself, once. Don’t put yourself through this.”

  He squeezed her hand again and looked into her dark eyes, and he saw the pain. He wanted to make it go away.

  “After a year and a half of venting my rage,” she went on, “I decided to stop the relentless tracking of those bastards. I was in Metsada by then, and even though they had spent considerable time and money training me, I went to Uri and told him I wanted to quit, and he understood. But then there were more bus bombings, and car bombs … it never ended! I just hated those terrorists so much! Killing all those innocent people, little children … I couldn’t quit trying to punish them!”

  “I know the feeling. I hate them as much as you do, maybe more. All terrorists are misguided cowards! They kill innocent people in the most horrible ways, instead of facing the people whom they are really angry with,” interjected Hatch. “But I learned that stepping on an ant here, an ant there, takes forever. Cleaning out the nest and killing the queen is much more effective. That’s what we’re going to do with the Wrath of Allah.”

  “Why do you do this? You’re rich and successful—you don’t need this. You’re not just doing this for me. You’ve done it before. What drives you?” implored Syd.

  “I hate evil people who cause misery to innocent people, especially when they get away with it. Terrorists of all kinds, hostage-takers, wife-beaters, bullies. International politics and a screwed-up legal system let too many of them go unpunished. That really
irks me,” he answered.

  “But you’ve spent millions of dollars inventing and building stealth choppers, commando teams, and only the Lord knows what else! Why do you really do this?” she asked.

  “Billions, actually. I guess the real reason I do this is very complex, and only a psychologist could ferret it out. The simplest reason is: Because I can!” exclaimed Hatch. “Take the Wrath of Allah, for instance. They know no nation dares to come after them because of the Middle East Peace Accords, which got under way after the Pope visited the Holy Land last year. But I can go after them, so I will. The timing is dictated by the fact that they threaten you. I would have gotten to them eventually, I’m sure. So, it is about you, in a way. Your life is in danger, and that really upsets me. I would never forgive myself if I didn’t fix that. I want you around for another date!”

  “I like the sound of that! But I’m ruining this date. I promise to lighten up! Now, let me take a look at this menu,” said Syd, as she released his hand.

  • • •

  Forty-five minutes later, they were having coffee after the waiter had cleared their table. They had talked nonstop through lunch, each enjoying the other immensely. As Syd finished relating an amusing incident which had occurred when she was teaching at Harvard, they both laughed heartily.

  “I know that seems tame compared to your exciting life, but that was my life,” added Syd.

  “Were you ever married, Syd? If that’s not too personal,” asked Hatch, wondering what her sex life had been like up until now. He was not sure why he wanted to know, but he did, badly.

  “Oh, no! I’m just an old maid school teacher,” she laughed. “I’ve had some relationships, but nothing that ever had the potential for marriage. My last serious relationship was with a Harvard professor. You know the stereotype jokes about strait-laced college professors.”

  “You had a relationship with a professor, and you didn’t …?”