CHAPTER 40
Nantucket Memorial Airport
One minute earlier, the man stationed at the motel—the first man to exit the green garbage truck—had pulled two grenade launchers from his duffel bag, extending both LAWs to ready them for action.
Standing less than fifty feet from his target, he raised the first launcher to his shoulder, armed the firing device, and took aim.
The grenadier never looked up. He quickly armed and aimed the second LAW and fired directly into the room next to the first. If all the agents weren’t killed by the explosion of the round impacting the room, the overpressure would be enough to render them incapable of responding to the impending attack.
The grenadier targeting the airport control tower—the second man from the garbage truck—had simultaneously prepared his weapon.
His first shot found its target, punching a hole about a foot wide in the side of the tower, the shrapnel scattering into a fan-shaped pattern as the grenade exploded.
The air-traffic controller standing at his post observing the peaceful Nantucket sky never knew what hit him.
The second round hit the tower halfway between the ground and the roof. It penetrated the framework and started a fire between the interior and exterior walls. Fueled by the persistent Nantucket breezes, the blaze soon spread throughout the structure, causing it to spontaneously combust.
No response from anyone at the airport. Another strategic prediction proving dead right.
The grenadier saw a bright flash of light on the runway, signaling that the third partner had used a thermite grenade to melt the engine block of the garbage truck he had parked there.
It would have to be towed off the runway in order for any plane to land.
He waved to his first accomplice down the street at the motel and started to jog away from the airfield toward their next location.
The helicopters would be landing soon. They needed to be ready to attack them.