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.”
“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