"Yes."
"Good. I will transmit a coded message to you from my ship when I have the agenda for the conference. The message will tell you when to energize the barrier. I must control the timing on this operation so precisely that the conferees have minimal warning before I make my announcement. Vitally important: the electronic barrier must go up sufficiently in advance of launching your operations against the target so that no messages of the attack passes through from the depot, the terminals site, or any UIPS ships in the area. The comm-blackout will itself set off alarms throughout the UIPS. By then, it will be too late for them to interfere."
"Sounds reasonable, Mr. President," Brad said. "Once we get the situation under control, including lining up the Commanders of the allied warships, we can punch a hole in the barrier just big enough to get a flash through to you at the conference site, giving you the score."
"Excellent, Brad, excellent."
Narval beamed at his new Commander of Combat Operations and twisted his mouth into a malevolent grin.
"One change," he said, eyes on Brad. "Up to now, the objective of your strategic planning and tactics has been the Depot. Now here this: the Depot is no longer the target. Your target is the Slingshot construction site including the 'Terminals'. You are to take control of the entire complex and hold it as my hostage. Adjust your plans, tactics and schedules accordingly."
Chapter THIRTY-FOUR
The air was stale in the alcove adjoining Brad's office. Hodak and Kumiko hovered over a console, entering and manipulating data. They compared computations against hard print charts, entered notes in manuals and drawings spread across a worktable, and mumbled at each other solemnly across the space separating them. Adari studied a large-scale celestial navigational chart tacked to the wall, Zolan tapped at a remote keyboard, and Myra scrutinized a spreadsheet. All were engrossed in their own piece of the action.
Brad, entered and paused to observe them. Myra glanced up, waved absently as her eyes returned to the spreadsheet.
Weaving along the tight aisle to a chair against the far wall, Brad turned the chair about and sat, his arms on the upper crossbar. He drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly.