“Okay, we’re down. Still can’t see much, though. . . . Oh, wait a sec. We have headlights ahead.”
“That’s a follow-me truck. Follow it to parking and remain on this frequency. And welcome to Vandenberg.”
The truck led them off via a connecting ramp to a taxiway. A large military transport silhouetted in the gloom began rolling forward to takeoff position. As the Cessna moved on by, two more transports became visible, waiting behind. Everything that could move, it seemed, was being got out before the wind front moved in.
* * ** * *
Colonel Lacey was a big man with wide, pale eyes set in a florid, fleshy face, lank ginger hair, and a matching toothbrush mustache. Or maybe his hair just appeared lank from his running his fingers through it countless times, as seemed to be his habit when considering a decision, through who-knew-how-many hours of the night and probably the day before. He looked haggard, with dark scores underneath the pale eyes and perspiration stains showing through the shirt of his crumpled uniform. Frequently, when a moment presented itself, he would close his eyes and draw in a long breath, as if to gain a few seconds of respite. He was also, Keene could tell—though doing a commendable job of containing it—very scared.
“Okay, I’ve listened, and I hear what you’re telling me, and the bottom line is: I don’t care,” he told Keene, Colby, and Charlie Hu as they came out from a glass-walled office space where they had gone to talk privately. Lacey had received the visitors up in the tower since he couldn’t spare time to be away. Lt. Penalski was with them also, having left a sergeant in charge of the other five Marines, who had been given coffee in a room on the floor below. The pilot, who they now knew to be Sergeant Erse, was with the Cessna, checking for damage and getting the aircraft fueled and cleaned. Sloane had gotten through to Lacey from Washington about two hours previously to advise that the mission would be arriving, but not trusting communications security he had not elaborated on what it was about. Around them, staff sifted reports and passed on orders, while harassed controllers tried to make sense of the fragmented information coming in and grappled with the chaotic traffic conditions. The Cessna had been one of a few landings that night. Inside the launch complex, a minimum work force was readying the few craft that could be sent up at short notice to provide additional hardware in orbit for contingencies. A large “Samson” military transport was being held back in one of the hangars to evacuate them and the tower crew after the launches were effected. Otherwise, everything was moving out.
Lacey gestured at the windows commanding views out over the field. Water was running down one of the glass panels on the far side of the floor, where a crew outside was sluicing off the encrustation of dust with a fire hose. “We have a permanent population of three and a half thousand people on this base. Ten thousand contractors’ employees live in the surrounding areas, most of them with families. I’ve got a couple of hours to do what good I can with the planes I’ve got. After that, they’re just junk. That’s my first responsibility, Doctor. I don’t care about who’s going out in a shuttle. If they’ve got somewhere to go, good luck to them.”
An adjutant with a red-streaked face, wearing a tarmac jacket, interrupted. “Excuse me, sir.”
“Yes?”
“296 isn’t going to fly. The valve isn’t responding, and it’s a strip-down to replace.”
Lacey grimaced, running a hand through his hair. “Has that C-80 started loading?”
“Not yet. It’s just rolling up now.”
“Divert it out alongside 296. Get some stairs out there and transfer the passengers straight across. Don’t bring it back to the gate.”
“Sir.” The adjutant turned away to another officer who was waiting.
“But we don’t know what they’ve got planned,” Keene persisted. “If they show up with a FAST team and take over the runway area, it could halt your whole operation.”
“I’ll take that chance when we come to it. In the meantime, my operation is best served by moving out what I can.”