Pitt held up one of the bomblets. “Does this look like your everyday explosive charge?” “No, it does not,” Fawkes admitted. “Is it some sort of nerve gas?” Lusana asked. “Worse,” Pitt answered. “A plague organism with an ungodly potency. Two shells containing the deadly organism were mixed in with the shipment sent by the arms supplier.” There was the stunned silence of incredulity. Fawkes hunkered down

254 VIXEN 03p>

and examined the shell and the bomblet in Pitt’s hand. Lusana bent over and stared, too, not sure what he was supposed to be looking at.

The skepticism slowly faded from Fawkes’s eyes. “I believe you,” he said. “I’ve seen enough gas shells to recognize one.” Then he gazed questioningly into Pitt’s face. “Mind telling me who you are and how you came to be here?”

“After we find and deactivate the other shell,” Pitt said, brushing him off. “Do you have another projectile-storage area?”

Fawkes shook his head. “Except for the three shells we’ve fired, all of which were of the armor-piercing variety, this is the lot-” He broke off as the realization struck him. “The turret! All guns are loaded and the breeches locked. The other plague projectile must be inside one of the three barrels.”

“You fool!” Lusana shouted. “You murdering fool!”

The agony in Fawkes’s eyes was apparent. “It’s not too late. The guns will not fire except by my order.”

“Captain, you and I will find and neutralize the other warhead,” Pitt ordered. “Mr. Lusana, if you will be so kind as to drop this over the side.” He handed Lusana the sack bulging with the QD bomblets.

“Me?” Lusana gasped. “I don’t have the vaguest idea how to get out of this floating coffin. I’ll need a guide.”

“Keep making your way topside,” Pitt said confidently. “Eventually you’ll hit daylight. Then throw the sack in the deepest part of the river.”

Lusana was about to leave when Fawkes placed a great paw on his shoulder. “We’ll settle our business later.”

Lusana stared back steadily. “I look forward to it.”

And then the leader of the African Army of Revolution melted into the darkness like a shadow.

At two thousand feet Steiger made a slight adjustment in pitch and the Minerva dipped over the Jefferson Memorial and crossed the Tidal Basin on a course along Independence Avenue.

“It’s crowded up here,” he said, motioning to a bevy of Army helicopters hovering from one end of the Capitol mall to the other like a swarm of mad bees.

Sandecker nodded and said, “Better keep your distance. They’re liable to shoot first and ask questions later.”

“How long since the Iowa’s last shot?”

“Nearly eighteen minutes.”

The Iowa 255p>

“Maybe that’s the end of it, then,” said Steiger.

“We won’t land until we’re sure,” Sandecker replied. “How’s the fuel?”

“Enough for nearly four more hours’ flying time.”