By the Rivers of Babylon Read Online Free PDF

think that will be necessary. Don’t forget, they can go Mach 2.2 at 19,000 meters. Nothing but the Bat can match that, and they’ll be out of range of any of their bases—Arab or Russian—by the time we leave them.”
    Richardson stretched. “You expecting any trouble? Our intelligence tells us it looks O.K.”
    “We always expect trouble here. But frankly, no. We’re just being cautious. There will be a lot of important people on those Concordes. And everything is at stake.
Everything.
All it takes is one crazy to fuck things up.”
    Richardson nodded. “How’s ground security?”
    “That’s the Security Chief’s problem, I’m just a pilot, not a guerilla fighter. If those two goofy-looking birds get airborne, I’ll escort them to hell and back without a scratch on them. I don’t know from the ground.”
    Richardson laughed. “Right. Me, neither. By the way, what are you packing besides your .45?”
    “The usual ironmongery of death and destruction. Two Sidewinders and two Sparrows, plus six Phoenix.”
    Richardson considered. The Sidewinder missiles were good at five to eight kilometers; the Sparrows, at sixteen to fifty-six kilometers; and the Phoenix, at fifty-six to a hundred and sixty. The Hughes-manufactured Phoenix was critical to get the Foxbat before it came into dogfight range with its greater maneuverability. “Take a tip, Laskov. There’s nothing up there at 19,000 and Mach 2.2 but Foxbats. Leave your 20mm cannon rounds home. There are 950 of them and they weigh. The Sidewinder will get anything that gets in close. We did it on a computer once. It’s O.K.”
    Laskov ran his hand through his hair. “Maybe. Maybe I’ll keep them in case I feel like knocking down a Mandrake.”
    Richardson smiled. “You’d hit an unarmed reconnaissance plane in international air space?” He spoke softly, as though there were someone close by who shouldn’t hear. “What’s your tactical frequency and call sign today?”
    “We’ll be on VHF channel 31. That’s 134.725 megahertz. My alternate frequency is a last-minute security decision. I’ll get it to you later. Today my name will be Angel Gabriel plus my tail
number—32. The other eleven Cats will also be Gabriel plus their tail numbers. I’ll send you the particulars later.”
    “And the Concordes?”
    “The company call sign for aircraft number 4X-LPN is El Al 01. For 4X-LPO, it’s El Al 02. That’s what we’ll call them on the Air Traffic Control and El Al frequencies. On my tactical frequency, they have code names, of course.”
    “What are they?”
    Laskov smiled. “Some idiot clerk at The Citadel probably spends all day on these things. Anyway, the pilot of 01 is a very religious young man, so 01 is the Kosher Clipper. The pilot of 02 is a former American, so in honor of that great American airline slogan, 02 is the Wings of Emmanuel.”
    “That’s awful.” Miriam Bernstein walked into the living room, dressed in a smartly tailored lemon-yellow dress and carrying an overnight bag.
    Richardson stood up. He recognized the beautiful, much talked about Deputy Minister of Transportation, but was enough of a diplomat not to mention it.
    She walked toward Richardson. “It’s all right, Colonel, I’m not a working girl. I have a high clearance. The General has not been indiscreet.” Her English was slow and precise, the result of seldom used formal classroom English.
    Richardson nodded.
    Laskov could tell that Richardson was somewhat unsettled by Miriam. It amused him. He wondered if he should make an introduction, but Miriam was already at the door. She turned and addressed Laskov. “I saw the men in the street, I’ve called a taxi. Jabari is waiting. I must rush. See you at the final briefing.” She looked past Laskov. “Good day, Colonel.”
    Richardson decided not to let them think he was totally in the dark. “
Shalom.
Good luck in New York.”
    Miriam Bernstein smiled and left.
    Richardson looked at his coffee cup. “I’m