Shattered Bone Read Online Free Page B

room with two other officers, and was relieved to find himself alone as he slipped into the darkened office.
    He glanced around. Government-issue metal desks faced each other in the center of the room and three large file cabinets lined one wall. The only decorations were the standard framed pictures of various military aircraft and a two-foot model of an F-16 hanging from the ceiling. Because the occupants of the wing intelligence building always dealt with classified documents, the structurc had been specifically designed with security in mind. None of the rooms had any windows, and all the doors were sealed and soundproof. Every room had a built-in safe or vault to store classified material. On the rare occasion that a visitor was allowed into the building, a bright red light flashed in evcry room and corridor as a warning for the occupants to protect their secrets. With sealed doors and no windows, the air in Ammon’s office was always stale and cold.
    Reaching into his flight bag, Ammon pulled out a pair of rubber gloves and quickly put them on as he walked to the three desks in the center of the room. Passing by his own, he sat down at his friend’s, Major Billings. He unlocked. the Major’s desk with a stolen key, pulled out the ccnter drawer, and, with a practiccd hand, began to feel under-neath for the sheet of microfilm. His fingers quickly explored the underside of the drawer, running along the corners in an effort to find the thin piece of film. He felt his heart quicken and his head began to pound as his hands groped along the underside of the drawer. Then he found it. The slippery film was stuffed way up in the right hand corner, exactly where it had been left the day before.
    With a careful tug he pulled the film away from the tape and quickly placed it inside the baggie he had pulled from his pocket. After he sealed the plastic bag, he checked it to ensure it was airtight, then pulled up the leg of his flight suit and stuffed the bag under the wrapping around his knee.
    Walking from the building, Capt Ammon stifled the urge to run as he made his way to his car. He glanced over his shoulder. No one was there. Nothing was amiss. And yet one thought continued to turn in his mind. If he were discovered with the microfilm in his possession, he would almost certainly die in a South Korean interrogation cell. The South Koreans, while trustworthy allies, were very intolerant of those charged with treason.
    Tucked inside the baggie was a microfilm that contained the codes and frequencies that were used to guide the CBU-15 optically guided bomb. This precision weapon was one of the most powerful and useful American Air Force bombs. And since the Americans had invested billions of dollars in the weapon, they had to rely heavily on its performance, particularly during the first and most critical opening days of a war.
    But the CBU-15 was a very vulnerable weapon. If the enemy ever discovered the radio frequencies that were used to guide the weapon to its target, the bomb could be easily jammed. And once it was jammed it went from an extremely smart and accurate weapon to a very expensive stupid bomb.
    It was hard to estimate the difference that having these frequencies could mean to the North Koreans. It was information that could provide them with a decisive advantage. And it was worth a huge amount of money.
    Except for one thing. The codes which Ammon carried were more than three years old. Since then, the CBU-15 had undergone a major upgrade in avionics. Part of the upgrade included a change in software. As a result, the codes that Ammon carried out of the wing intelligence building were completely useless. They were of no value to anyone. And Ammon knew it.
    Just over four hours later, Capt Ammon found himself circling over the western coast of Korea. It was a beautiful night; clear with a full moon and not a cloud in sight. That was very unusual for August. When the weather briefer forecast clear skies