Free Night Fall by Nelson DeMille Page A

and never given or sold to another country. Russia’s accounting system, however, is not that good, so it’s possible that one of these infrareds got into the wrong hands for the right money.”
    I digested my first course in missiles and asked him, “Did you mention this to any of the FBI people?”
    “No. I didn’t know any of this at the time. My experience with surface-to-air missiles was limited to the old Soviet SA-2 and SA-6 types that the North Viets used to shoot at me.” He added, “They were only moderately accurate, which is why I’m here.”
    “Right. So, you learned about infrared-guided missiles… when?”
    “Afterward. They aren’t a secret. Jane’s has plenty of info on them.”
    “Who’s Jane?”
    “Jane’s.
A publishing company that puts out books on the world’s weapons. You know, like Jane’s Fighting Ships, Jane’s Air-Launched Weapons, and so forth. There’s a Jane’s book on missiles and rockets.”
    “Right.
That
Jane.” I asked, “What is obviously wrong with that scenario? So wrong that it’s been dismissed?”
    “You tell me, Mr. Corey.”
    “Okay, I’ll tell you what you, and everyone who’s read about this, already knows. First, there was no explosive residue found on any of the salvaged wreckage. Second, there was no distinctive tearing of metal, seats, or… people… that would indicate a warhead explosion. Third, and most convincingly, there was not a single piece of a missile found by divers or by dredge ships that swept the ocean floor. If even one piece of a missile had been found, we wouldn’t be standing here now.”
    “That’s true.”
    “So maybe two hundred people, yourself included, Captain, did see a red streak of light-but there was no evidence of a missile found on the wreckage or in the debris fields. What’s that all about?”
    He looked at me awhile, smiled, and said, “Your wife told me you needed to come to your own conclusions-that you were counter-suggestible, cynical, and skeptical of what anyone said, except what you yourself concluded.”
    “She’s a sweetheart. So, you want me to come to a conclusion about the total lack of explosive residue and missile parts?”
    “Yes. But you can’t conclude that there was no missile.”
    “Okay…” I thought a minute and said, “Maybe the missile totally disintegrated in the explosion.”
    He shook his head and informed me, “Hell, fabric survived the explosion. Ninety percent of the 747 was recovered and so were all but a few of the 230 bodies. Missiles don’t disintegrate. They blow up into hundreds of pieces, big and small, any one of which can be identified by an expert as part of a missile. Also, high explosives, as you just said, leave distinctive traces.”
    “Right. Hey, maybe it was a laser beam. You know, like a death ray.”
    “That’s not as impossible as you may think. But that’s not what it was. A laser beam or a plasma ray is almost instantaneous and leaves no smoke plume.”
    He kept looking at me, and I realized I was still up at bat. I thought a minute, then said, “Well… maybe the missile didn’t explode. Maybe it went right through the aircraft and kept going, outside the debris fields that they were searching. The impact caused the fuel to explode. What do you think?”
    “I think you’re on to something, Mr. Corey. What you’re describing is a kinetic missile. Like a bullet or an arrow passing through anything in its path with such force that it just keeps going. No explosive warhead. Just kinetic energy and the subsequent deceleration forces ripping through anything in front of it. That would take down an aircraft if it hit something critical to maintaining flight.”
    “Isn’t everything in a plane critical to maintaining flight?”
    “No. It helps when there are no holes in the plane, but sometimes it doesn’t hurt when there are.”
    “No kidding? So, if a fuel tank was punctured by a kinetic missile-”
    “The fuel would get loose, obviously,