A wry smile tweaked the major’s mouth. “The thing doesn’t respect the accredited press much, huh? Tell Peters to detail an escort and ship her off to the aid station.”
The police lieutenant cleared his throat and puffed out his chest. “Major, I’m Lieutenant John Salinas. Are you in overall command here? I was the last man in touch with Mr. Harkness. I feel obliged to make a personal report to the National Security Council in order—”
“You’ve arrived too late. I’ve just been speaking to the NSA himself,” said the major sourly. He did not sound as if he had considered it an honor. He peered at the policeman’s name plate. “Lieutenant Salinas, is it? I am in charge of this operation until Colonel McNamara gets here. Which,” said the major, looking at his watch, “should be in less than ten minutes. In the meantime, I need a responsible Chicago police official to liaise with. Under federal law, U.S. troops cannot—”
The doors to the room were thrust open violently. Two soldiers with a burden burst in. “It’s the copilot of the Blackhawk!” exclaimed one of them. “He just fell out of the sky, Major. Just dropped out of nothing almost on top of us!”
Gervase cocked his head. “Marrano! Get the aid station. We need a medic!”
Jim McKenna reacted fast. He was already trying CPR before the major got out from behind his desk. Tremelo was kneeling next to the injured copilot. The physics professor wasn’t trying to render medical assistance. Instead he was examining the man as if he were a valuable microscope specimen.
“Get this civilian out of here!” roared Gervase. “Unless he’s a doctor?”
Tremelo stood up and looked down at the stocky major. “I was leading the research team into the alien artifact,” he said, quietly and calmly. “I don’t think I should go anywhere until I’ve been debriefed. Also you may need me if the pyramid starts doing something new. I’m on the presidential science advisory council. I also have a top secret security clearance.”
“Stay,” the major snapped. “Just keep out of the way, while we try to keep him alive.”
The medics arrived at a run and relieved McKenna. But it was too late for the pilot.
McKenna stood up. His knee was blood-wet. “It’s no use,” he said grimly. The medic, who was feeling for a throat pulse on the cooling body, nodded.
Tremelo looked at the body. “Did he fall onto anything sharp?”
One of the paratroopers who’d brought him in looked startled. “No, sir. He landed on a grassy area in the quad, as a matter of fact.”
The scientist rolled the dead man over onto his stomach. The broken legs turned at sickeningly odd angles. The flight suit was blood-soaked. The physicist calmly pointed to a narrow cut in the fabric. “Something stabbed him. I thought the blood was coming from somewhere other than his legs.”
Cutting away the flight suit revealed a wide, nasty wound. Somebody or something had stabbed the pilot in the back—and not with a stiletto, either.
“Major!” one of the men manning the field telephones shouted. “The forward OP. They’ve got another one back, sir!”
The medics left hastily with one of the major’s runners.
“I need to see this too, Major,” said Tremelo.
Gervase glanced at McKenna. “Take him there, Corporal.”
So McKenna escorted the tall scientist along after the running medic. Tremelo walked briskly and calmly, making no effort to look for cover. “The alien artifact appears to detect humans even if they’re out of line of sight. It doesn’t take some of those in line of sight. I’m pretty sure that if it wants you, Corporal, it’ll take you.”
McKenna knew that the guy was crazy then. He sounded deeply disappointed that it hadn’t taken him.
* * *
This time it was an Air Force officer that Jim McKenna had never seen before. Tremelo obviously had. “Hmm. One of that ass Harkness’ men.”
If it hadn’t been for the medics, it would have been one of Harkness’ ex-men. It was a relatively hot dry autumn afternoon. The Air Force colonel was wet. Sopping wet. He was also trailing brown streamers of ribbony, leathery stuff. Water was pouring out of his clothing . . . and his lungs, as the paramedics “emptied” him out. A number of other things were also falling onto the paving stones.
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