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bs on board or we catch him at their hiding place。 Now； that can't be far away。 Nor can the Vindicator； if she's hereabouts。 So tomorrow we take that amphibian they've got for us and hunt the area inside a radius of a hundred miles。 We'll hunt the seas and not the land。 She must be in shoal water somewhere and damned well hidden。 With this calm weather； we should be able to locate her…if she's here。 Now； e on！ Let's get those reports off and get some sleep。 And say we're out of munication for ten hours。 And disconnect your telephone when you get back to your room。 However careful we are； this signal is going to set the Potomac on fire as well as the Thames。〃
Six hours later； in the crystal light of early morning； they were out at Windsor Field and the ground crew was hauling the little Grumman Amphibian out of the hangar with a jeep。 They had climbed on board and Leiter was gunning the engines when a uniformed motorcycle dispatch rider came driving uncertainly toward them across the tarmac。
Bond said； 〃Get going！ Quick！ Here es paper work。〃
Leiter released the brakes and taxied fast toward the single north…south runway。 The radio crackled angrily。 Leiter took a careful look over the sky。 It was clear。 He slowly pushed down on the joystick and the little plane snarled its way faster and faster down the concrete and； with a final bump； soared off over the low bush。 The radio still crackled。 Leiter reached up and switched it off。
Bond sat with the Admiralty chart on his lap。 They were flying north。 They had decided to start with the Grand Bahama group and have a first look at the possible area of Target No。 1。 They flew at a thousand feet。 Below them the Berry Islands were a necklace of brown spits set in cream and emerald and turquoise。 〃See what I mean？〃 said Bond。 〃You can see anything big through that water down to fifty feet。 Anything as big as the Vindicator would have been spotted anywhere on any of the air routes。 So I've marked off the areas where there's the minimum traffic。 They'd have ditched somewhere well out of the way。 Assuming； and it's the hell of an assumption； that； when the Disco made off to the southeast on the night of the third； it was a ruse； it'll be reasonable to hunt to the north and the west。
She was away eight hours。 Two of those would have been at anchor doing the salvage work。 That leaves six hours' sailing at around thirty knots。 Cut an hour off for laying the false trail； and that leaves five。 I've marked off an area from the Grand Bahamas down to south of the Bimini group。 That fits…if anything fits。〃
〃Did you get on the the missioner？〃
〃Yes。 He's going to have a couple of good men with day…and…night glasses keeping an eye on the Disco 。 If she moves from her Palmyra anchorage where she's due back at midday； and if we're not back in time； he'll have her shadowed by one of the Bahama Airways charter planes。 I got him quite worried with just one or two bits of information。 He wanted to go to the Governor with the story。 I said not yet。 He's a good man。 Just doesn't want too much responsibility without someone else's okay。 I used the P。M。's name to keep him quiet until we get back。 He'll play all right。 When do you think the Manta could be here？〃
〃S'evening； I'd say。〃 Leiter's voice was uneasy。 〃I must have been drunk last night to have sent for her。 Christ； we're creating one hell of a flap； James。 It doesn't look too good in the cold light of dawn。 Anyway； what the hell？ There's Grand Bahama ing up dead ahead。 Want me to give the rocket base a buzz？ Prohibited flying area； but we might as well go in up to our ears while we're about it。 Just listen to the bawling out we'll be getting in just a minute or two。〃 He reached up and switched on the radio。
They flew eastward along the fifty miles of beautiful coast toward what looked like a small city of aluminum hutments among which red and white and silver structures rose like small skyscrapers above the low roofs。 〃That's it；〃 said Leiter。 〃See the yellow warning balloons at the corners of the base？ Warning to aircraft and fishermen。 There's a flight test on this morning。 Better get out to sea a bit and keep south。 If it's a full test； they'll be firing toward Ascension Island…about five thousand miles east。 Off the African coast。 Don't want to get an Atlas missile up our backsides。 Look over there to the left…sticking up like a pencil beside that red and white gantry！ Atlas or a Titan…intercontinental。 Or might be a prototype Polaris。 The other two gantries'll be for Matador and Snark and perhaps your Thunderbird。 That big gun thing； like a howitzer； that's the camera tracker。 The two saucer…shaped reflectors are the radar screen。 Golly！ One of them's turning away toward us！ We're going to get hell in a minute。 That strip of concrete down the middle of the island。 That's the skid strip for bringing in missiles that are recallable。 Can't see the central control for telemetering and guidance and destruction of the things if they go mad。 That'll be underground…one of those squat blockhouse things。 Some brass hat'll be sitting down there with his staff getting all set for the countdown or whatever's going to happen and telling someone to do something about that goddamn little plane that's fouling up the works。〃
Above their heads the radio crackled。 A metallic voice said； 〃N/AKOI； N/AKOI。 You're in a prohibited area。 Can you hear me。 Change course southwards immediately。 N/AKOI。 This is Grand Bahama Rocket Base。 Keep clear。 Keep clear。〃
Leiter said； 〃Oh； hell！ No use interfering with world progress。 Anyway； we've seen all we want。 No good getting on the Windsor Field report to add to our troubles。〃 He banked the little plane sharply。 〃But you see what I mean？ If that little heap of iron…mongery isn't worth a quarter of a billion dollars my name's P。 Rick。 And it's just about a hundred miles from Nassau。 Perfect for the Disco 。〃
The radio started again： 〃N/AKOI； N/AKOI。 You will be reported for entering a prohibited area and for failing to acknowledge。 Keep flying south and watch out for sudden turbulence。 Over。〃 The radio went silent。
Leiter said； 〃That means they're going to fire a test。 Keep an eye on them and let me know when。 I'll cut down the revs。 No harm in watching ten million dollars of the taxpayer's money being blown off； Look！ The radar scanner's turned back to the east。 They'll be sweating it out in that blockhouse all right。 I've seen 'em at it。 Lights'11 be blinking all over the big board way down underground。 The Kibitzers'11 be at their periscopes。 Voices'll e down over the P。A。 system…'Beacon contact 。 。 。 Warning balloons up 。。。 Telemeter contact 。 。 。 Tank pressure okay 。 。 。 Gyros okay 。 。 。 Rocket…tank pressure correct 。 。 。 Rocket clear 。 。 。 Recorders alive 。 。 。 Lights all green 。 。 。 Ten； nine； eight； seven； six 。。。 Fire！〃'
Despite Leiter's graphic countdown； nothing happened。 Then； through his glasses； Bond saw a wisp of steam ing from the base of the rocket。 Then a great cloud of steam and smoke and a flash of bright light that turned red。 Breathlessly； for there was something terrible in the sight； Bond gave the blow…by…blow to Leiter