"It's just a test. With a dummy payload."
"Good. We will have a real payload for you. It won't be low-cost, but it will definitely get you some attention. We—"
At that moment his walkie-talkie crackled.
3:00 p.m.
Abdoullah had completed his inspection and, together with Shujat, was loading the crates back onto the small trucks intended to move them down to the clean room.
"We'll have to adjust the timers very carefully," he was saying to Shujat, now bent over with him, "make sure they're synched critically with the trajectory."
The second Pakistani engineer nodded. "Right. So we'll do it when the trajectory computer runs are completed. That's scheduled for 2200 hours tonight."
"Sounds good." Abdoullah clicked on his black walkie-talkie, a small Kenwood, and tried to sound professional. "Firebird Two to Firebird One. Do you read?"
There was a burst of static, and then Ramirez's voice sounded. "I copy you, Firebird Two. Any problems?"