"Everybody's," Nimec said. "It's pretty well known how competitive law-enforcement organizations can be. They like taking their pats on the back for closing cases, and we're glad to let them. It tends to eliminate any inclination they might have to see us as sticking our nose in where it doesn't belong and reject our assistance. It also has the fringe benefit of keeping the bad guys off guard." He paused, quietly watching the techs key up for the satellite feed. "There's a whole range of other situations we help out with, besides. The birds can detect toxic chemical concentrations in soil runoff, plot out the extent of oil spills, pinpoint the specific types of mineral depletion in agricultural areas to give farmers a heads-up on potential crop failure ... it goes on and on."

She looked impressed. "If I may ask, just what are your satellites' capabilities?"

"Confidentially?"

She nodded, and gave him a faint smile. "If not quite classified."

"Hawkeye can zoom in on objects less than five centimeters across and scan on over three hundred spectral bands, which matches anything the spooks at the National Reconnaissance Office have at their disposal. Same goes for the speed and accuracy of our analysis--and we hope to have moving real-time pictures within a couple of years. Also, the telemetry images we're about to see here are going out over our corporate intranet to be viewed by members of our security team on three continents and examined by photo interpreters in San Jose." He gestured toward the headsets jacked into the armrests of his seats. "These provide an audio link for anyone who's got a request for the analysts, or wants a particular area enlarged, enhanced, or identified. You may want to listen in."

Annie got a quick flash of herself playing host to Roger Gordian and Megan Breen in the LCC firing room at Canaveral what seemed an eternity ago, pointing to the lightweight phones on her console.

"When the event timer starts again you'll want to put them on and eavesdrop on the dialogue between the cockpit and ground operators. "

A chill ran down her spine.

Nimec noticed her far-off look. "Anything wrong?"

"No," she said. "Just kind of dazzled by the scope of this operation."

Nimec knew she was lying, but dropped it, although he couldn't dismiss his peculiar interest in what was on her mind.

Then, from one of the techies, a wave.

"Get ready," he said. "Show's about to start."

Some 2,500 miles northwest as the crow flies, Roger Gordian was in a room identical to the one in which Pete Nimec and Annie Caulfield were seated, watching, as they were, the first satellite images stream down from Hawkeye-I above Brazil. Filling the row to either side of him was the group of satellite recon specialists Nimec had mentioned to Annie, most former employees of the NRS and its PHOTINT section, the National Photographic Interpretation Center.