“The Emergency Broadcast System never sent out a release, did it?” Elliot asked Chin.
Chin shook his head.
“Wasn’t that obvious?” Lorimer asked Elliot. “Everyone here was waiting for this.”
They found an unoccupied table. “Then how did you manage—?” Elliot asked, setting down his tray. Chin smiled. “Believe me,” he replied, “you’re not the only Alongside Night
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person asking that at the moment.”
Chapter 22
It was ice-cold on Mount Greylock.
A white-satin bedspread covered the mountainside, a starbroken midnight canopy over it. The air was crisp and clear. The snow—powder dry—made soft protests as four snowmobiles, one after another, left their tracks. Three hours later, in the long-abandoned tourist lodge at the summit of the highest peak in Massachusetts, twenty six men and women of the Revolutionary Agorist Cadre, and two of their younger allies, were gathered around a roaring fireplace. The windows were opaqued. Next to a map stand—Elliot, Lorimer, and Chin on his other side—General “One-Eyed Jack”
Guerdon briefed his Cadre.
It was the fifth and final briefing of a series started with contingency plans months ago that had weathered rehearsals, computer analyses, more rehearsals, and had only been given a final go-ahead hours before. The arrival of Lorimer’s microfilm and the couple made the attempt on Utopia a tactically acceptable risk. Strategically, what had started as Contingency Plan D and was now Operation Bastille Day was considered by human mind and computer fail-operational.
“I know we’ve been through this three times already tonight,” said Guerdon, “but this last time I’m hoping for any damn thing that pops into your head, no matter how silly. It may make the crucial difference for the prisoners.
“Designations again. Infiltration group—Major Chin, Elliot Vreeland, Deanne Powers—is Judas Goat. Hang-glider commandos—Captain Donizetti’s group—is Winged Victory. The command ‘copter—Captain Billis and crew, myself—is Guard- ian Angel. Transport helioplane—Captain McCarter and crew, 210
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Dr. Schiller’s medical team—is Friendly Sky. Laser technician group remaining on Greylock’s summit—Lieutenant Evers in charge—is Bigmouth.
“At 0545 Winged Victory will drop near the relay tower, knock it out, then surround Command Shack Gamma. After receiving confirmation of this, Judas Goat will depart Nobody’s Road, at 0600 breaching Utopia by SOP for entering prisoners. At signal from Judas Goat, Winged Victory will assault Gamma simultaneous to Goat’s taking of Command Suite Beta—neutralizing all officers. Judas Goat will now establish microwave relay with Guardian Angel, then proceed to break into Monitor Booth Alpha. Guardian Angel will laser their video back here to Bigmouth for redundancy taping and relay to major television outlets as soon as the raid is completed.” Guerdon turned to the laser technicians. “You should have their signal by 0615.”
The technicians—Lieutenant Betty Evers, Sergeants Compton and Jones—nodded.
Guerdon spoke at large again. “When Guardian Angel receives video confirmation that Utopia is secure, we will immediately inform Friendly Sky, which will be guided down to Hoosac Lake by Winged Victory. “
Near the back, the helioplane commander raised his hand.
“Captain McCarter?”
“I’m still concerned about landing conditions, General. The tank had a better weight distribution than I do, and I’m worried about that thirty inches of compacted snow on the ice.”
“What’s your fully passengered gross weight and landing estimates?” Guerdon asked.
“It’s still forty tons. With the skis, we’ll need a strip of about a thousand feet to land, twice that for takeoff.”
“All right, don’t risk a landing until you have to. I’ll delay my signal until the last minute.” Guerdon went on to the group:
“With Guardian Angel’s assistance, Judas Goat will guide the Alongside Night
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two hundred prisoners to the landing strip, where Friendly Sky will treat any shock cases and airlift them out. With luck, we should all be heading home by 0720.”
Guerdon recognized Lieutenant Evers, the twenty-four-yearold chief of the laser technicians. “General, wouldn’t it be simpler to establish line-of-sight microwave relay between Judas Goat and my group? Guardian Angel could monitor on audio only.”
Guerdon flipped back several maps and pointed to the stand.
“This is Savage Hill. It’s directly between Greylock and Utopia. To get line-of-sight we need two hundred feet of elevation, that Utopia doesn’t have. Guardian Angel will provide that elevation—and then some.”