He turned to the officer who was driving the 'copter.
"I've got a hunch. Swivel this thing around and head for Long Island. I've got a funny feeling that Brittain will be there. He—"
The phone rang again, and Karnes grabbed it.
"Mr. Karnes, we've found that civilian's 'copter! It's at Long Island Spaceport! Just a second, the stuff's still coming in." Pause. "Get this: A man answering to Brittain's description bought a ticket for the West Coast rocket.
"As you know, that's UN territory, and we have no jurisdiction. The rocket is sealed for takeoff, but they're holding it for us until you get there!"
"Right! I'm headed there now!" he answered quickly.
It was twelve minutes later that the police 'copter settled just outside the rocket enclosure. Karnes had already notified the pilot to be ready for him. He sprinted up the ramp and stood at the airlock of the transcontinental rocket.
It sighed open, and Karnes stepped inside. He was met by a frightened stewardess.
"Tell him to get in here and not to try any funny stuff!" snapped a voice from the passenger cabin.
Brittain was standing at the forward end of the passenger compartment with a levelled gun.