Don Pendleton - Splintered Sky

“Why not handle this through Dr. Griffey?” Broome inquired.

“I appointed Stewart to manage the scientific end of things. Hal, here, is one of my most trusted associates in regard to matters of national and international security,” the President said. “He is my right hand, and he can make any decision as if it were under my authority.”

Broome nodded and offered a hand to Brognola. “It’ll be good working with you.”

“I hope so,” Brognola answered. “But I rarely show up at pleasant circumstances.”

“I’ll leave the important details to Hal,” the President told Broome and Thet. “I just wanted to make certain that there is no ambiguity as to how important Mr. Brognola’s input is going to be.”

The pair nodded, and the screen went dark.

“We have a feeling that there might be a problem on the International Space Station,” Brognola announced, getting right to the point. Broome frowned at the implications as he looked at aerial photography of a Chinese launch facility. Broome could tell what it was because of the effort to duplicate the NASA facilities, as well as the equipment. If there was one thing that the Red Chinese could do, it was to replicate “borrowed” technology, and it was in full evidence here.

Brognola pointed to a training camp off to the side, and a scale-model layout of what could only be the ISS. “It’s not concrete evidence, but we’ve been running this particular mock-up against every other facility, and nothing but the ISS matches it. And because it’s a tire house, we can only assume that combat training exercises are being conducted inside.”

“Can’t be firearms based,” Thet stated. “This isn’t like an airliner where one bullet only adds another vector for depressurization. We’d be talking a major atmosphere leak, as well as a weakening of the station integrity.”

“What’s this that you have circled?” Broome asked.

“Those are deposits of Iridium-192,” Brognola replied. “Whoever is responsible for the training camp setup—”

“It’s not the Chinese?” Broome interrupted.

“We’re digging. And while there might be elements of Red Chinese security involved, we don’t believe that they are acting alone,” Brognola stated. “Which is why I want to make a substitution on your shuttle crew.”

Broome raised an eyebrow. “At the last minute?”

“He’s a highly trained asset,” Brognola told him. He handed over a file, heavily edited. Broome picked it up, looking over the dossier for “Henry Miller.”

“I’m going to have to take some time on this,” Broome replied. He glanced at Brognola. “He had been previously cleared for a shuttle mission?”

“Two in fact. Only one incident was meant as a ruse. The shuttle never launched,” Brognola explained.

“So he’s experienced. I do want to meet him. There’s only so much that a piece of paper can tell me, and in case you haven’t noticed, Mr. Brognola, we’re going into space. Even if he’s somehow managed to get on a shuttle before, this ‘Miller’ cat had better be on top of his game,” Broome said. “I know you’re only an administrator…”

“Hands on,” Brognola countered. “And I am well aware of unit integrity. Ideally, we’d have loved to have Miller gain more experience with your crew, so that you could operate together more fluidly, but we just don’t have the luxury to do so. As it is, he will be arriving here inside the hour.”

Broome nodded. “We’ll have to have Komalko sit this one out then, Xander.”

The administrator nodded. “At least this guy has the creds to sit in for him.”

“On paper,” Broome retorted.

“That’s another thing,” Brognola said. “The crew going up to the ISS check out well on paper. But have you been getting any bad vibes from them?”

“Bad vibes? The crew is full of U.S. military personnel who have passed extensive background checks, Mr. Brognola,” Broome protested.

Brognola sighed. “I know it seems like I’m insulting people, but in my line of work, I’ve run across a lot of sinners posing as saints.”

“And in my line of work, you have to have good instincts about your people and your equipment,” Broome countered.

“So no one on your crew has made you suspicious,” Brognola surmised. “Good. That’s all I wanted to know. Just keep your eyes and ears open for anything that might be suspicious.”

Broome relaxed. He realized that it wasn’t the Fed’s intention to offend, that he was looking at every possible angle on how the opposition might want to damage the International Space Station. “I’ve got a shuttle to go over from nose to engine cones,” he replied, the anger drained from his voice. “It’s hard enough being suspicious of circuits and frame welds when you have to add in possible terrorists posing as astronauts.”

“I know. That’s why I’m bringing in Miller. He’s not only qualified to ride with you, he’s got a good sense for whoever might want to sabotage this mission or help hijack the ISS. Besides, you’ll need someone with training on the station in case this group does launch a takeover attempt from China,” Brognola explained.

“Takeover?” Broome asked. “You mean they’d send up a shuttle full of soldiers to take over the ISS? Why not just blow it out of the sky?”

“Because otherwise, they’d have no way to drop large amounts of highly radioactive isotope with a high resistance to reentry on the cities of the world,” Brognola answered.

“Iridium 192…It’s an externally hazardous material, but doctors use it all the time to treat certain forms of cancer,” Thet advised. “Because it’s so dense, however, it passes through without leaving trace amounts.”

“But as shrapnel, it’d be hazardous because it would be embedded in the environment, giving off gamma radiation to irradiate survivors,” Broome concluded. “Externally it produces radiation burns and induces radiation poisoning.”

Brognola spoke up. “That’s a dichotomy I’m having a little trouble wrapping my brain around. You’d think it’d be more hazardous inside a human body.”

“We’re talking different amounts,” Thet replied. “The seeds that are ingested are tiny seeds. Internal radiation burns could occur in the digestive system if a quantity of industrial pellets were ingested. It’s not completely harmless inside the body, otherwise it wouldn’t be used to burn out cancer. As a shrapnel injury, exposure would be far worse.”

Brognola nodded, understanding. His teams had had several close calls with various forms of radioactive material, and so far, they had all gotten through without major incapacitation. The foes of Able Team and Phoenix Force usually weren’t so lucky, and the head Fed had seen the results of massive radiation exposure.

Thet’s phone rang and he picked it up. “Miller’s about to land,” he said after hanging up.

Brognola looked to Broome. “Want to come meet him? Or do you still have checks to run?”

Broome shook his head. “It can wait a few minutes. I do want to meet your man and see if he’ll fit in with the team.”

“Can we get a driver, Xander?” Broome asked.

“I had one on standby when Mr. Brognola told me he was coming. I called before you came in,” Thet explained.

“Thanks,” Broome said. “I don’t want to waste too much time.”

“I certainly hope it is going to be a waste of time,” Brognola stated. “Because if it isn’t, the next few days are going to be hell.”

Broome nodded in agreement, believing that the big Fed was correct.

“I KNOW YOU’RE NOT in love with the idea that we’re splitting up,” Schwarz told Lyons over his satellite phone as they approached to Cape Canaveral, “but Hal needs someone inside the shuttle.”