"Ulysses to Sirene. Do you read me?"
When his radio crackled, Armont was in the medical facility of the Bates Motel, watching as a plasma IV was attached to Dimitri's arm. He immediately grabbed for it.
"I copy, Mike, but make this quick. Are you all right?"
"Never better. Where are you guys? Sorry to break radio silence, but I think Ramirez may be getting ready to pull out. Could be now or never."
"We took down Command," Armont said into his walkie- talkie. "Neutralized four of the bastards and cleared it. Looks to be a clean job as far as the friendlies are concerned. A minor miracle, considering. And when we got here to the Motel, there was a Greek, one of them, but we took care of him."
"Nice work."
'That's the good news. They're all here with us now, and they seem okay." He leaned out and took a peek down the hall. The SatCom systems engineers were all collapsed on the floor, drinking Cokes from the machine at the end. "There's bad news, too. In the first place, nobody there would shut off the countdown. They're just afraid to do it. Has to do with melting some kind of coil. The bird is still going up."
"What's the second place? The other bad news?"