Apparently they’re using a YAG laser system, in a two-pod configuration. And $669 million! It’s impossible! It’s instantly clear that Parnell has made a lower bid than they can possibly stick to. And the Air Force has let the fraud pass. Has, in fact, colluded in it. The room is filling with incredulous or angry voices, enough to overwhelm the happy chatter of the Parnell team, as more and more people get the gist of the booklet. Reporters are scurrying around, surrounding the Parnell group, faces bright under the video lights—disembodied pink faces, smiles, eyes—

Something snaps in McPherson. He stands, speech spills out of him. “By God, they’ve rigged it! We’ve got the best proposal in there, and they’ve given it to one that’s an obvious lie!”

Lemon and the rest of the Laguna Hills folks are staring at him in amazement. They’ve never in their lives heard such an outburst from Dennis McPherson, and they’re really taken aback. Art Wong’s mouth hangs open.

Donald Hereford, silver-haired and calm, just looks at McPherson impassively. “You think their bid is unrealistically low?”

“It’s impossibly low! I can’t imagine the MPC evaluations letting this crap pass! And the proposal itself—look how they’ve ignored the specs in the RFP—two pods, YAG laser, eleven point eight KVA, why the planes won’t have the power to run these rigs!” Heart racing, face flushed hot, McPherson slams the booklet down on the back of a chair. “We’ve been screwed!”

Hereford nods once, no expression on his face at all. “You’re certain our proposal is superior to this?”

“Yes,” McPherson grates out. “We had a better proposal.”

Hereford’s mouth tightens. After a moment he says, “If we let them do it this time, they’ll feel free to do it again. The whole bid process will unhinge.”

He looks at Lemon. “We’ll file a protest.”

The possibility hadn’t even occurred to McPherson. His eyes fix on Hereford. A protest!…

Lemon starts to say something: “But—”

Hereford cuts him off with a hand motion, a quick chop. Perhaps he’s angry too? Impossible to tell. “Contact our law firm here in Washington, and start giving them all the particulars. We need to hurry. If there are irregularities in their compliance with the RFP, then we may be able to get a court injunction to halt the award immediately.”

Court injunction.

McPherson’s stomach begins to return to him, a little at a time. They have recourse to some legal action, apparently. It’s a new area for him, he doesn’t know much about it.

Lemon is swallowing, nodding. “Okay. We’ll do it.” He looks confused.