Don Pendleton - Splintered Sky

“Yeah,” Lyons mumbled. “I remember the last time we were an official part of the shuttle crew. That was a plain fucked mission. I just wish we still had you on the streets with us.”

“There’s always a chance the launch will be scuttled,” Schwarz offered.

“I don’t think so,” Lyons replied. “They’ll need someone up there. Right now, you’re the best option. Shoving all three of us on the shuttle will make things too crowded, and will tip off any infiltrators at NASA that we’re on to them.”

Schwarz sighed, knowing that his friend was right. “Just be careful out there.”

“Careful gets you killed, Gadgets,” Lyons returned. “I’ll just have to put a little more ball to the wall to make up for you not being at my back.”

Schwarz chuckled through a nervous shudder. “You been holding back all this time, Ironman?”

“Just watch your ass. We’ll be fine,” Lyons admonished.

Schwarz hung up and looked out the window as the plane taxied to a halt. A silver Hummer with blue trim rolled up to the tarmac, and he saw Hal Brognola looking out one of the back windows.

Sabrina Bertonni stirred in her seat, looking up at him. “We’re there?”

Schwarz nodded, grabbing his gear. “Yup. Are you sure that you’re up to this?”

Bertonni shrugged. “Someone has to implement the upgrades on the samples we sent on ahead. Besides, I’m not the one riding tons of thrust into space.”

Schwarz rolled his eyes. “When you put it that way, it sounds scary.”

The scientist’s lips tightened. She’d been brought into this knowing there was the possibility of sabotage or infiltration on the flight to the International Space Station. There was a good chance that this flight would end up in flames, just like the Challenger and Columbia. Instead of voicing her doubts, she picked up her bag and disembarked with Schwarz. They clambered down the roll-up steps as Jordan Broome and Brognola got out of the NASA Hummer.

“Captain Broome, this is Henry Miller,” Brognola introduced. “Miller, Captain Jordan Broome, the commander of the USS Arcadia. Have you met Dr. Sabrina Bertonni, Broome?”

The astronaut nodded. “On a few instances, usually while going over testing protocols for the thrusters.”

Schwarz offered his hand. “Permission to come on board, Captain?”

Broome took the offered hand and shook it, a moment of challenge rising as he applied a strong grip. Fortunately, the Able Team electronics genius was used to such testosterone-soaked rituals. His own hand was tight, and Broome’s efforts to make the handshake uncomfortable were foiled by his own strong grasp. “Permission granted, Lieutenant Miller.”

Schwarz grinned. “Call me Gadgets.”

Broome nodded. “Kind of figured that Miller wasn’t a real moniker.”

“Oh, it is. But people keep wanting me to recite from Tropic of Cancer. ”

Broome chuckled. “So, how is June?”

Schwarz winked. “I’m sure you’ve seen the movie, Captain Broome.”

The astronaut laughed. “Call me Jordie.” His tone returned to seriousness after a moment. “You’re going to have some trouble. The rest of the crew isn’t going to like Pie Komalko being kicked to have you put in.”

“Is there an official explanation as to why?” Schwarz asked Brognola.

“You’re one of the few Burgundy Lake survivors in any condition to work with the experimental prototypes that survived the assault,” Brognola replied. The big Fed glanced at Sabrina Bertonni, whose expression had darkened at the mention of the incident that had claimed the lives of so many colleagues.

“Right. A few had been sent on ahead,” Schwarz replied with a nod, giving Bertonni’s hand a reassuring squeeze. Her green eyes flicked to him, and her mouth turned up in the closest thing to a smile she could manage. Schwarz sympathized with her. “We’ll work on upgrading the test samples to meet the current generation that was lost.”

“We?” Broome asked. “So the nickname fits. You can work on the thrusters?”

“I’ve been discussing the work with him on the flight over,” Bertonni noted. “He’s a quick study, and assisting me, we’ll get everything running better than the modules you were going to take up.”

“Of course, that’s between my preflight responsibilities,” Schwarz noted.

“Komalko will help you out with that. With the two of you working on it, you’ll be able to halve the time needed for the checks, freeing up room for the module upgrades,” Broome stated. “But first, you’re going to have to meet the rest of the crew.”

Schwarz nodded. His introduction as an outsider would leave him vulnerable to anyone in NASA who could have been a turncoat. If the enemy had been able to slip an insider into Burgundy Lake, a top-secret facility with only a small staff, the sprawling Cape Canaveral could potentially be a minefield of danger.

That was Schwarz’s job, though. To flush the enemy by setting himself up as bait. Glancing at Bertonni, he realized that she would be under the gun, as well, so he had more than his own life at stake.

Staring into the bright blue Florida afternoon, he knew both of their lives were on the line to keep the sky from falling.

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