The Sum of All Fears.pdf - Delta Force

drink, and consume it in sixty-eight-degree air, sitting on a cushioned seat,
but no – they were proclaiming their toughness in air that couldn't be much more
than five degrees Fahrenheit. Dawkins was a skier and had worked his way through
college as a ski patrol at one of the Aspen slopes. He knew cold and he knew the
value of warmth. You couldn't impress cold air with anything. The air and wind
simply didn't notice.
'How are things going, Pete?'
Dawkins turned. 'No problems, Sarge. Everybody on the list is checked off.'
'I'll spell you for a few minutes. Go inside and warm up for a while. You can
get coffee at the security booth just inside the gate.'
'Thanks.' Dawkins knew that he'd need something. He was going to be stuck
outside for the whole game, patrolling the lot to make sure nobody tried to
steal something. Plainclothes officers were on the lookout for pickpockets and
ticket-scalpers, but most of them would get to go inside and watch the game. All
Dawkins had was a radio. That was to be expected, he thought. He had less than
three years on the force. He was still almost a rookie. The young officer walked
up the slope towards the stadium, right past the ABC minivan he'd checked
through. He looked inside and saw the Sony tape machine. Funny, it didn't seem
to be hooked up to anything. He wondered where those two techies were, but
getting coffee was more important. Even polypropylene underwear had its limits,
and Dawkins was as cold as he had ever remembered.
***
Qati and Ghosn returned the car to the rental agency and took the courtesy bus
to the terminal, where they checked in their bags for the flight, then headed in
to check their flight's status. Here they learned that the American MD-80 for
Dallas-Fort Worth was delayed. Weather in Texas, the clerk at the desk
explained. There was ice on the runways from the storm that had just skirted
past Denver the previous night.
'I must make my connection to Mexico. Can you book me through another city?'
Ghosn asked.
'We have one leaving for Miami, same departure time as your flight to Dallas. I
can book you a connecting flight in Miami . . .'the ticket agent tapped the data
into her terminal. 'There's a one-hour layover. Oh, okay, it's only a
fifteen-minute difference into Mexico City.'
'Could you do that, please? I must make my connection.'
'Both tickets?'
'Yes, excuse me.'
'No problem.' The young lady smiled at her computer. Ghosn wondered if she'd
survive the event. The huge glass windows faced the stadium and even at this
distance the blast wave . . . maybe, he thought, if she ducked fast enough. But
she'd already be blinded from the flash. Such pretty dark eyes, too. A pity.
'Here you go. I'll make sure they switch the bags over,' she promised him. That
Ghosn took with a grain of salt.
'Thank you.'
'The gate is that way.' She pointed.
'Thank you once more.'
The ticket agent watched them head off. The young one was pretty cute, she