Matthew Reilly - Area 7

achievements, though, were far more spectacular.

Masterminding the defection of five senior Soviet nuclear

missile specialists from a secret base in the Ukraine

mountains. The assassination of KGB operations chief

Vladimir Nakov in Moscow in 1990, before Nakov could

himself assassinate Mikhail Gorbachev. And, finally, in

1997, the daring rescue of the CIA's captured Far Eastern

Bureau Chief, Fred Conway, from the dreaded Xiangi

Prison--the all but impregnable maze of grim cells and torture

chambers belonging to the notorious Chinese External

Intelligence Service.

Each man in the formation wore a special combat mask

around his throat--an ERG-6 gas mask. Black and hard, it

looked like the lower half of a hockey mask, and it covered

its wearer's mouth and nose in much the same way Jesse

James's mask had covered his face in the old days.

Three other men stood out in front of the detachment of

7th Squadron members on the deserted runway. All three

wore starched white lab coats. Scientists.

Once the Marine and Secret Service people from

Nighthawk Two were in place, a set of Airstairs folded down

from the forward left-hand side of Marine One.

Two Marines emerged from the helicopter first and took

up their positions at the base of the stairs, backs straight,

eyes forward.

A moment later, Special Agent Frank Cutler stepped out

of the chopper, hand on his holster, eyes watchful. The Secret

Service trusts nobody. Not even the United States Air

Force. Even it could have a disgruntled soldier who might

take a shot at the President.

The President came out next, followed by his staff.

Schofield and a young Marine corporal emerged last of

all.

As usual, Marine One's two pilots, Gunman and Dallas,

stayed on board just in case a rapid departure was called for.

The two parties faced each other on the runway in the

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early morning light--the Air Force detachment stationed at

the complex; the President and his entourage.

Twisting coils of windswept sand swirled around their

bodies. A sandstorm was due later in the day.

A young Air Force captain guided the President over to

the colonel at the head of the Air Force formation--a severe

looking man with gray hair and eyebrows. As the President

came closer, the colonel stepped forward and crisply saluted

his Commander-in-Chief.

"Good morning, Mr. President," he said. "My name is

Colonel Jerome T. Harper, United States Air Force Medical

and Surgical Command, and commanding officer of United

States Air Force Special Area (Restricted) 7. This is Major

Kurt Logan, commander of the 7th Squadron forces here at

the base. Your two Secret Service advance teams are waiting

for you inside. We're honored to have you, sir. Welcome to

Area 7."

"Thank you, Colonel," the President replied. "It's a

pleasure to be here. Lead the way."

AS SOON AS THE PRESIDENT WAS TAKEN AWAY, DISAPPEARING

inside the enormous main hangar with his highest-level entourage

in tow, the major in charge of the 7th Squadron detachment

came up to Schofield.

Major Kurt Logan was about six-one, with closely

shaved hair and heavily pockmarked skin. Schofield had actually

met him before, although he doubted Logan would remember

him.

It had been at a special command and leadership course

run by the Navy at their SEAL compound in Fort Lauderdale in 1997. Through a combination of smart tactics and

ruthless follow-through, the softly spoken Logan had come

first in the class by a clear forty points. He could assess any

battlefield situation in an instant, and when it came to engaging"

the enemy, he was uncompromising. Schofield, then

just a budding Recon Unit commander, had come tenth in a

class of sixteen.

From the looks of things, Logan hadn't changed much.

His whole bearing--hands clasped firmly behind his back,

steely level gaze--indicated a powerful, confident inner

strength. Battle-hardened strength.

"Excuse me, Captain," Logan said in a soft Southern

drawl. He offered Schofield a sheet of paper. "Our personnel

list for your records."

Schofield took the list, then gave one of his own to Logan

in return.

It was common practice at presidential inspections for

both sides to swap personnel lists, since the President's people

wanted to know who was at the base they were inspecting,

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and the base people wanted to know exactly who was in

the presidential convoy.

Schofield glanced at the Area 7 list. Columns of meaningless

names ran down it.

UNITED STATES AIR FORCE

SPECIAL AREA (RESTRICTED) 07

ON-SITE PERSONNEL

CLASSIFICATION: TOP SECRET

NAME

NAME

COMMAND UNIT

Harper, JT (CO)

7TH SQUADRON

Alvarez, MJ A Frommer, SN E

Arthurs, RT C Gale, A D

Atlock, FD B Giggs, RE B

Baines, AW A Golding, DK D

Bennett, B E Goldman, WE A

Biggs, NM C Grayson, SR E

Boland, CS B Hughes, R A

Boyce, LW D Ingliss, WA B

Calvert, ET E Johnson, SW D

Carney, LE E Jones, M D

Christian, FC A Kincaid, R B

Coleman, GK E Littleton, SO E

Coles, M B Logan, (MAJ) KW A

Crick, DT D McConnell, BA B

Criece, TW A Messick, K E

Davis, AM E Milbourn, SK D

Dayton, AM E Morton, IN C

Dillan, ST D Nance, GF D

Doheny, FG A Nystrom, JJ D

Egan, RR B Oliver, PK E

Fraser, MS C Price, AL C

Fredericks, GH A Rawson, MJ C

NAME UNIT Area 7 NAME 45 UNIT

Sayles, MT Sommers, SR Stone, JK B C C Taylor, AS Willis, IS Wolfson, HT B C A

CIVILIAN STAFF

Botha, GW MED

Franklin, HS MED

Shaw, DE MED

He did notice something, though.

There were more names here than there were 7th

Squadron men on the tarmac. While there had been forty

commandos out on the tarmac, there were fifty 7th Squadron

members on the list. He figured there must be another ten

man unit inside the base somewhere.

As Schofield looked at the list, Logan said, "Captain, if

you wouldn't mind, we'd like you to move your--"

"What appears to be the problem, Major?" a voice said

from behind Schofield. "Don't bother with Captain

Schofield. I am in command here."

It was Ramrod Hagerty, the White House Liaison Officer.

With his Englishman's mustache and distinctly battle-hardened posture, Hagerty was everything Kurt Logan was

not.

Before he answered him, Logan looked Hagerty up and

down. What he saw obviously didn't impress him.

"I was led to believe that Colonel drier was in ultimate

command of Marine One," Logan said coolly--and correctly.

"Well, ah, yes ... yes, technically, he is," Hagerty said.

"But, as White House Liaison, anything to do with the

movement of these helicopters must go through me first."

Logan looked at Hagerty in stony silence.

Then he said, "I was about to ask the captain here if he

wouldn't mind rolling your helicopters into the main hangar

while the President is at the base. We wouldn't want enemy

satellites knowing that we had the Boss visiting, now would

we?"

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Matthew Reilly

"No, no, of course not. Of course not," Ramrod said.

"Schofield. Make it happen."

"Yes, sir," Schofield said dryly.

THE GIANT DOUBLE DOORS OF THE HANGAR CLOSED WITH A resounding

boom.

The two lead helicopters of Marine Helicopter

Squadron-1 were now parked inside the main hangar of Area

7, their rotors and tail booms folded into their stowed positions.