第9节
Steve's spirits soared. 'D'you think she knows I'm here?!" Roz
caressed the back of his head. 'Yes, I'm sure she does." But not
because you are holding her hand. She knows because I am within her as
I am within you...
In the sealed ward above the intensive care unit, Don Wallis motioned
Steve and Roz to take the facing seats in the middle of the table where
they were sandwiched between the six-man team from AMEXICO. Wallis,
the team leader, sat at the head of the table on Steve's right. Jake
Nevill, his Number Two, was at the other end.
It was Nevill who had flown out with Roz zipped onto the buddy-frame of
his Skyhawk. While she and the Red River medics were busy with
Clearwater, he and Steve had given each other the buzz. Satisfied he
was talking to the right man, Nevill told Steve he had been assigned
the temporary code-name of YANKEE-ZULU while on board the wagon-train:
his AMEXICO code-name was never to be disclosed to anyone outside the
organization.
The task-force of mexicans was disguised as a special detachment from
the White House, complete with fake ID-cards, name-tags and the
distinctive blue and white badge on the shoulders of their camouflaged
fatigues.
It was, explained Nevill, standard procedure when operating alongside
regular army units.
As a JMO, Roz was wearing hospital whites with her name tag, surmounted
by miniature lieutenant's rank stripes, tacked onto a Velcro patch
above her right breast pocket.
Steve, after a long, hot shower and a medical examination designed to
make sure he had not contracted some unspeakable overground infection,
had been given a set of Trail-Blazer fatigues with no name-tag or
badges.
Since he still had his long ragged hair, rat-tail plaits and
multi-coloured skin markings, the effect was bizarre. The task-force's
bewildered reaction on first seeing him in uniform reminded Steve of
his painful encounter with It . Harmer at the Pueblo way-station.
This time however, no one tried to pulverize his liver with the butt
end of a rifle.
How much does Roz know about all this? he wondered.
In the few brief moments they had spent together since boarding Red
River he had been so concerned about Clearwater, he hadn't even asked
Roz how she came to be on the wagon-train. He had just been thankful
she'd been close at hand when he needed her. It was probably wiser to
say nothing at this stage. Her silent reminder that Clearwater's
cubicle might be bugged had jerked him back to the reality of the
Federation. The fear that whatever you said might be recorded and used
in evidence against you.
Maybe, when the time was right, she would come through on their private
line. She was the expert. Steve, who had wilfully neglected his
telepathic gifts, was still restricted to the channel used for
broadcasting MayDay messages.
Wallis aligned his electronic memo-pad with the edge of the table,
cleared his throat and began: 'Steve, ahh this first session is
essentially a debriefing. You've met Jake. I don't think we need
formal introductions. The names are on the labels."
Steve said hello to George Hannah and Cai Parsons who sat across the
table on either side of Roz, and to Daryl Coates and Torn Watkins who
sat on his left and right respectively.
'They're all members of the organization, and in case you feel a little
tongue-tied, Roz has been made an honorary member."
Steve eyed Roz then looked blankly at Wallis.
'It means she doesn't have a code-name or a call-sign,' said Wallis.
He fingered his left earlobe in a seemingly absent-minded gesture.
'Got it..." Steve smiled at Roz. 'I had no idea."
'Well, you know what I'm like - always dying to know what you're up
to." Roz's face bore just the merest hint of a smile but Steve knew
that inwardly she was savouring the exquisite irony of the situation.
'Hey! Come on, you two - snap out of it!" exclaimed Nevill.
Steve ignored him and turned to Wallis. 'You were saying?"
'I've been asked to congratulate you both,' said Wallis.
'That message comes jointly from the Operational Director and the Oval
Office. Initially there was some concern that th