"No balls," Vance snorted. "Bill, for godsake, let's give it a shot. Maybe we can at least disable it, turn it into a dud."
Bates was still dubious as he gazed upward. "Buddy, I don't want to be hovering over that thing when the Cyclops kicks in. Do you realize—"
"Come on, where's your backbone." He waved to Cally, who was now coming around the corner of the gantry. 'Thanks for not shooting me."
"When I saw Ramirez start killing everybody, I assumed you two were next. It was then or never." She looked exhausted.
"You assumed right. We were on the hit list. Thanks." He kissed her on the forehead, where her hair was still plastered. "Now will you help me talk some sense into this guy? I say we could at least try to mess up the bomb before the Cyclops launches it. They've got it programmed for Souda Bay."
"You're kidding." Bates was transfixed.
"That's what he claimed. Come on, let's . . . hang on a second." He turned and trotted over to the doorway of Launch, where he seized a coil of electrical wire. "This may come in handy." Coming back, he punched Bates' arm. "Let's give it a try. No guts, no glory."
"Souda Bay. Christ!" Bates glanced again at his watch. "Mike, we've got less than nine minutes."