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At a glance it appeared to contain a couple pounds of plastique。 One fuse stuck out of the oblong mass。 A wire ran from the fuse to a servo and from the servo to a six…volt battery。 A little receiver was wired to the servo and four AA batteries were hooked up to power it。 A tiny wire attached to the receiver was routed all along the inside of the door。 It was a simple； radio…actuated bomb。 Simple and effective。
Luis Camacho pulled the ruse from the bomb and used a penknife to cut the wire。 The plastique and the rest of it he left in place。
Sweating in spite of the fifty…five…degree weather and fifteen…mile…per…hour wind； he replaced the jack in the trunk。 The door panel he put in the backseat。
Had he figured it right？ Was this merely insurance？ Or had Albright…Chistyakov already decided to push the button？
Standing there beside the car； he looked around slowly； checking。 A lot of good that will do you； Luis。 Cursing under his breath； be got behind the wheel and started the car。
There was a little hardware store in the shopping center； right between a gourmet food store and a factory fabric outlet。 Inside Camacho bought a small flashlight； a coil of insulated wire； and some black electrician's tape。
Out in the parking lot he used the knife and screwdriver to disassemble the flashlight。 The bulb he mounted with tape on a bole he carved in the door panel。 Fifteen minutes later he had the last screw back in place and the crank for the window reinstalled。
There！ Now if Albright pushes the button； instead of a big bang； this flashlight bulb will illuminate and burn continuously until that sis…volt ni…cad battery in the door is pletely discharged。 Assuming he sees the illuminated bulb…and the unsoldered wire connections don't vibrate loose…our saintly hero Luis Camacho； FBI ace spy catcher； will then have time to bend over and kiss his ass goodbye before the bullets from the silenced Ruger 。22 send him to a kinder； more gentle world。
What more could any man ask？
He sat behind the wheel staring at the storefronts。 After a moment he got out of the car and walked back across the parking lot to the gourmet store； the Bon Vivant。 The place smelled of herb and flower leaf sachets。 The clerk； a woman in her forties with king； ironed hair； was too engrossed in a book to even nod at him。 He wandered through the aisles； looking at cans and jars of stuff imported from all over the world。 Nothing from Iowa here。 If it's green or purple and packed in a jar from Europe or the Orient； with an outrageous price； you know it's got to be good。
He selected a jar of blue French jam； 〃Bilberry〃 the label said； paid 4。32 plus tax to the refugee from Berkeley； and walked back across the empty； gray parking lot to his car。
The flight surgeon at the China Lake dispensary pronounced Rita fit to fly on Friday afternoon。 Jake Grafton spent Saturday in the hangar with Samuel Dodgers and Helmut Fritsche going over the puter program and modifications to Athena that were needed。
As he worked Jake became even more impressed with Dodgers' technological achievement and even more disenchanted with Dodgers the human being。 Like every fanatic； Dodgers thought in absolutes which left no room for tolerance or dissent。 On technical matters his mind was open； inquiring； incisive； leaping to new insights regardless of where the leap took him or the hoary precedents shattered by the jump。 On everything else； however； every aspect of the human condition； Dodgers was bigoted； voluble； and usually wrong。 It was as if his maker had increased his scientific talents at the expense of all the others； thus creating a mean little genius who viewed the world as a collection of wicked conspiracies hatched by evil； godless agents of the devil。 His opinion of most of his less gifted fellow men was equally bleak。 And he did believe in the devil。 He waxed long and loud on Satan and his works whenever he had a half minute that was not devoted to the task at hand。 How Fritsche tolerated these diatribes Jake couldn't fathom。 He found himself increasingly irritated； and retreated to the head or the outside of the building when he had had all he could stomach。
〃How can you listen to that asshole without choking him？〃 Jake asked during a brief interlude when nature called Dodgers to the head。
〃Whatszat？〃 Fritsche asked； raising his eyebrows curiously。
These endless scatterbrained rantings；〃 Jake explained patiently。 〃In the last hour he's slandered every racial and ethnic group on the planet and denounced everyone in government as thieves and liars and worse。 How can you listen to this？〃
〃Oh。 That。 I never listen。 I'm too busy thinking about Athena。 I shut out all that other stuff。〃
〃Wish I could。〃
〃Hmmm；〃 said Fritsche； obviously not paying much attention to Jake either。
〃If he doesn't cool it some； I'll probably strangle him by dinnertime。 Better learn all you can this afternoon。〃
〃Uh…huh；〃 said Fritsche； who was bending and reexamining the cooling unit that kept the puter temperature down。 It was certainly a marvel of miniaturization and engineering。 〃How this man made this in a backyard workshop just boggles the mind。 Look here； the craftsmanship of these welds； the way he polished this forging with acid to minimize heat loss。 Look here！ See how he built this to maximize cooling and shorten the wire runs。 And he didn't even use a puter to design this！〃
〃Instinct。 The troll's a genius；〃 Jake Grafton admitted reluctantly…
The other shoe fell on Sunday morning； when Jake received a telephone call from Washington。 George Ludlow was on the other end of the wire。 〃Royce Caplinger's flying out to see you this afternoon。 He's bringing Senator Hiram Duquesne with him。 Each of them will have an aide along。 Get them rooms in the BOQ。〃
〃Jesus； Mr。 Secretary。 This project's got a security lid tight as a virgin's twat。 We don't need any godda…any senator…〃
〃Duquesne had to be told； Captain。 He's the chairman of the Senate Armed Services mittee。 I'm not asking your opinion。 I'm informing you。 Got it？〃
〃Yessir。 I got it。 Have you also informed Admiral Dunedin？〃
〃Yes。〃 The connection broke。 Jake cradled the phone。 He soon learned there were but two empty rooms in the BOQ； so he sent the two junior members of his party to a motel off base。 Those two were Toad and Rita； neither of whom looked very distressed when they tossed their bags into the back of a navy station wagon and drove away。
He wore his only clean white uniform and was standing in the sun in front of the terminal when the T…39 taxied up and Royce Caplinger stepped out。 The CO of the base was standing beside Jake。 Both officers saluted smartly。 They also snapped a salute to Senator Duquesne； who was dressed in slacks and pullover shirt and looked like he had had a couple snorts on the trip。 As Duquesne blinked mightily at the bright light； a woman descended the little stair from the plane。
Jake recognized her even as Caplinger said her name。 〃Ms。 DeCrescentis。 She's a guest of Senator Duquesne。〃
〃Consolidated Technologies。 She's a vice president； isn't she？〃
〃Yep；〃 said Duquesne。 〃Good to see you again； Captain；〃 he said in a tone that implied just the opposi