"Another question," Rick said. "Have there been any more sabotage attempts besides the two you mentioned?"
"No. Those first projects went off in fast order, but the next shoot isn't scheduled for about two weeks."
Scotty asked, "What's the name of this base? You haven't told us."
Gordon looked grim. "I hope the name isn't prophetic," he said. "The base was named for the dry lake where the rocket pads are located: Scarlet Lake."
CHAPTER III
Las Vegas, Nevada
Rick and Scotty picked up their luggage at the baggage counter, then paused to survey their surroundings. McCarran Field, the airport for Las Vegas, Nevada, was modern and attractive. But there was no mistaking that this was desert country. Beyond the airport they saw the barren mountains of the Charleston Range, and behind the motels clustered around the airport, they saw flat desert, thinly populated with mesquite and creosote brush.
"Welcome to the wild West," Rick said with a grin.
"Not a cowboy in sight," Scotty commented. "Plenty of dudes, though." He gestured at a group dressed in loud sports clothes. "What now?"