Deception Point Page 108

Exhausted, Tolland looked up at the underbelly of the thundering tilt-rotor airplane. thunderous gusts pounded put down off its horizontal propellers. As Rachel rose on a cable, numerous sets of deceases pulled her into the fuselage. As Tolland watched her dragged to safety, his look spotted a beaten(prenominal) man crouched half-naked in the doorway.Corky? Tollands heart soared. Youre aliveImmediately, the harness dribble from the sky again. It landed ten feet away. Tolland wanted to swim for it, only if he could already feel the sucking sensation of the plume. The relentless grip of the naval wrapped around him, refusing to let go.The current pulled him under. He fought toward the surface, plainly the exhaustion was everywherewhelming. Youre a survivor, some mavin was saying. He kicked his legs, clawing toward the surface. When he broke by dint of into the hammer wind, the harness was still let on of reach. The current strained to drag him under. aspect up into the t orrent of swirling wind and noise, Tolland saw Rachel. She was staring down, her eyes automatic him up toward her.It took Tolland four powerful strokes to reach the harness. With his last ounce of strength, he slid his arm and head up into the loop and collapsed.All at at a time the ocean was falling away beneath him.Tolland looked down just as the gaping vortex opened. The megaplume had finally reached the surface.William Pickering stood on the bridge of the Goya and watched in dumbstruck perplexity as the spectacle unfolded all around him. Off the starboard of the Goyas stern, a huge basin same(p) de instancyion was forming on the surface of the sea. The whirlpool was hundreds of yards across and expanding fast. The ocean spiraled into it, move with an eerie smoothness over the lip. All around him now, a pharyngeal moan reverberated out of the depths. Pickerings mind was blank as he watched the holler expanding toward him alike the gaping mouth of some epic god hungry(p) f or sacrifice.Im dreaming, Pickering thought.Suddenly, with an explosive hiss that shattered the windows of the Goyas bridge, a towering plume of steam clean clean erupted skyward out of the vortex. A colossal geyser climbed overhead, thundering, its apex disappearance into the darkened sky.Instantly, the funnel contends steepened, the perimeter expanding faster now, chewing across the ocean toward him. The stern of the Goya swung hard toward the expanding cavity. Pickering lost his balance and fell to his knees. Like a child before God, he gazed downward into the growing abyss.His final thoughts were for his daughter, Diana. He prayed she had not acknowledgen fear like this when she died.The concussion wave from the escaping steam hurled the Osprey sideways. Tolland and Rachel held each other as the pilots recovered, banking low over the blessed Goya. Looking out, they could see William Pickering-the Quaker-kneeling in his black coat and tie at the upper railing of the doomed ship.As the stern fishtailed out over the brink of the massive twister, the anchor cable finally snapped. With its bow proudly in the air, the Goya slipped backward over the watery ledge, sucked down the steep turbinate wall of water. Her lights were still glowing as she disappeared beneath the sea.131The uppercase sunrise was clear and crisp.A breeze sent eddies of leaves skittering around the base of the uppercase Monument. The worlds largest obelisk usually awoke to its own peaceful image in the reflecting pool, but today the morning brought with it a chaos of jostling reporters, all displace around the monuments base in anticipation.Senator Sedgewick sacristan felt larger than Washington itself as he stepped from his limousine and strode like a lion toward the press area awaiting him at the base of the monument. He had invited the nations ten largest media ne 2rks here and promised them the indignation of the decade.Nothing brings out the vultures like the smell of death, sexton thought.In his hand, Sexton clutched the stack of w havee linen envelopes, each elegantly wax-embossed with his monogrammed seal. If information was power, indeed Sexton was carrying a nuclear warhead.He felt intoxicated as he approached the podium, pleased to see his improvised stage included two fameframes-large, free-standing partitions that flanked his podium like navy-blue curtains-an old Ronald Reagan trick to ensure he stood out against any backdrop.Sexton entered stage right, striding out from behind the partition like an actor out of the wings. The reporters quickly took their seats in the several rows of congregation chairs facing his podium. To the east, the sun was just breaking over the Capitol dome, shooting rays of pick apart and gold down on Sexton like rays from heaven.A better day to become the most powerful man in the world. sound morning, ladies and gentlemen, Sexton said, laying the envelopes on the lectern before him. I go forthing make this as sh ort and painless as possible. The information I am about to share with you is, frankly, quite disturbing. These envelopes contain proof of a deceit at the highest levels of government. I am ashamed to say that the chairwoman called me half an hour ago and begged me-yes, begged me-not to go public with this evidence. He move his head with dismay. And yet, I am a man who believes in the truth. No matter how painful.Sexton paused, holding up the envelopes, tempting the seated crowd. The reporters eyes followed the envelopes back and forth, a pack of dogs salivating over some unknown delicacy.The electric chair had called Sexton a half hour ago and explained everything. Herney had talked to Rachel, who was safely on board a plane somewhere. Incredibly, it seemed the White House and NASA were innocent bystanders in this fiasco, a plot masterminded by William Pickering.Not that it matters, Sexton thought. Zach Herney is still going down hard.Sexton wished he could be a fly on the wall o f the White House right now to see the Presidents face when he realized Sexton was going public. Sexton had agreed to meet Herney at the White House right now to discuss how best to ordain the nation the truth about the meteorite. Herney was probably standing in movement of a television at this very moment in fox shock, realizing that there was nothing the White House could do to stop the hand of fate.My friends, Sexton said, letting his eyes connect with the crowd. I have weighed this heavily. I have considered honoring the Presidents desire to keep this data secret, but I must do what is in my heart. Sexton sighed, hanging his head like a man trapped by history. The truth is the truth. I will not presume to color your interpretation of these facts in any way. I will simply give you the data at face value.In the distance, Sexton heard the beating of huge helicopter rotors. For a moment, he wondered if maybe the President were flying over from the White House in a panic, hoping t o halt the press conference. That would be the icing on the cake, Sexton thought mirthfully. How guilty would Herney appear THEN?I do not take pleasure in doing this, Sexton continued, sensing his timing was perfect. just now I feel it is my duty to let the American people know they have been lied to.The aircraft thundered in, touching down on the esplanade to their right. When Sexton glanced over, he was surprised to see it was not the presidential helicopter after all, but rather a large Osprey tilt-rotor airplane.The fuselage readUnited States border GuardBaffled, Sexton watched as the cabin door opened and a woman emerged. She wore an orange Coast Guard parka and looked disheveled, like shed been through a war. She strode toward the press area. For a moment, Sexton didnt recognize her. Then it hit him.Rachel? He gaped in shock. What the hell is SHE doing here?A murmur of wateriness went through the crowd.Pasting a broad smile on his face, Sexton morose back to the press and raised an apologetic finger. If you could give me just one minute? Im terribly sorry. He heaved the weary, good-natured sigh. Family first.