Elaine Steiner looked up from the junction box she was working on. Her husband had just come into the room, bearing bad news once again. “What is it this time? Don’t tell me they ran the back hoe into the generator again.”

As part of Gordian’s agreement with the Russian government, the ground station purchased electricity from the surrounding grid—but Gordian was no fool. He knew how unreliable the service could be in the remote areas he picked for his ground stations, and so each site was provided with a generator large enough to keep the facility on-line. The problem was that many of the spare parts required for the generator were purchased locally, as was the fuel it ran on, and none of these were ever up to the Steiners’ usual standards.

“Nope,” Arthur said. “The generator came on-line smoothly and automatically, just like it was supposed to. But we can’t figure out why the power from the grid stopped. We put in a call to the local substation, and no one else is without power.”

Elaine frowned and started putting her tools away. She and Arthur had been doing this for long enough, and had worked in enough violent places, for her to have sharpened her sense of caution to a fine edge. “How long has the power been out?” she asked.

“Ten minutes or so. The substation’s sending out a crew to check the lines, so we’ll know more shortly.”

Elaine blew out her lips in silent frustration at her husband’s perpetual optimism. “A local crew?” she asked. “We’ll be lucky if they can even find the lines. No, dear, if we want this repaired quickly, we’d better do it ourselves.”

Gregor Sadov looked at the downed power lines and allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction. Three utility poles in a row had been knocked down, victims of a little bit of C4 plastique planted just above ground level.

Their target was an American satellite ground station, so Gregor knew the loss of electricity would not knock out all their defenses. But he also knew that most of their generator’s output would be directed toward maintaining the most vital systems, including the satellite uplink and the communication channels.

Gregor wanted to take out that generator. He wasn’t too worried about the phones inside the compound. This compound was so far from any real civilization that there simply wasn’t anyone the people inside could call—no one, that is, who could get there in time to do any good. But Gregor hadn’t survived this long by taking unnecessary chances. He couldn’t cut off all the communications from the compound, not without finding some way to knock their satellite out of orbit, but he could try and take out their generator.