There was no sign of the submarine, but at the speed the airplane was flying, Vaughn didn't expect to see it yet. He pulled his head back in and glanced over at Tai. She shook her head.

The crew chief held up four fingers.

Royce could see the track of the Talon and the location of the submarine on the screen of his laptop, automatically forwarded to him via satellite from the Sim-Center. He was in the back of the Blackhawk, the engines powering up in preparation for takeoff.

The plane was on a direct intercept course. He also could see the red dot representing the two F-16s circling. He looked out of the helicopter and couldn't spot any of them, but knew they would be in visual range shortly, as the helicopter raced past Waikiki. Royce noted the people lying on the beach, enjoying themselves, not knowing death was approaching.

He keyed the radio.

"Dragon Leader, this is Control. Over."

"This is Dragon Leader. Over."

"You will attack only on my order. Is that understood? Over."

"Roger that. Over."

"Out."

Moreno could clearly see Diamond Head now. He had studied the data and knew the prevailing winds. That, combined with the effectiveness of the sprayer and the time the ZX would stay airborne – all the factors had been considered to come up with the spot where they would surface and release death.

It would not be long now.

He blinked as something flashed across his field of vision. He adjusted the focus and realized it was a sailboat. Probably a thousand meters in front of his position. He could see the people on board. Two couples. Rich Americans, indulging themselves. The women were dressed indecently – in fact, one of the women wore no top.

Whores. They deserved what was coming.

But he could not turn the periscope away. He tracked the boat cutting across his path. He saw the topless woman go up to the man at the helm and give him a kiss. A tender one. Not like a whore would. Young lovers. The thought flashed across his mind.

Moreno twisted the scope away and took readings off the landmarks.

They were very close now.

"Prepare for surface operations," he ordered.

The man in the containment suit was already prepared. Dressed and with a container of ZX resting on the decking, held in place with both hands.

The crew chief held up one finger. Vaughn nodded at Tai, and once more they leaned out of the plane, peering ahead.

Vaughn saw a sailboat cutting through the waves ahead.

That was it.

The seconds ticked by. The green light high up in the tail section flashed on, indicating they were over the submarine's location, but Vaughn saw nothing. He glanced over his shoulder and met Tai's gaze. She shook her head. Nothing.

Vaughn looked at the crew chief and twirled a finger, indicating they needed to circle around.

"Surface," Moreno ordered. He looked at the man in the containment suit.

"Are you ready?"

The head inside the hood bobbed in the affirmative, and the man made his way to the metal ladder leading to the conning tower hatch. Moreno moved to him and placed a hand on the rung at eye level.

"I will lead."

From periscope depth to surface took only a few seconds, and a klaxon sounded, indicating they were up. Moreno bolted up the ladder.

The Talon was banking in a wide circle, turning right, away from Oahu. Vaughn looked out and saw Diamond Head with Honolulu off to the left. He returned his attention to the ocean and cursed. The long cigar shape of a submarine heading straight toward the island was now apparent. And they were still banking in their turn at 10,000 feet.

Vaughn jumped to his feet. He looked up at the lights in the tail section. Red. He mentally willed the plane to turn faster.

Moreno brought the binoculars to his eyes as the man in the containment suit carefully climbed down to the sprayer with the canisters, then began to screw one of them into the hose.

Satisfied they were in the right spot, Moreno licked a finger and held it up to the wind. Even given the forward movement of the submarine, the wind was strong from the aft, which would blow the agent from the sprayer on the forward deck toward Honolulu.

Perfect conditions.

Vaughn couldn't control himself. He quickly knelt and peered ahead into the prop blast. He could see a tiny figure on the deck of the submarine next to some device, which he had to assume was the sprayer for the nerve agent. There was another person on top of the conning tower. Two. That was good. Time. That was bad. Vaughn looked up at the jump lights. Red. Red. Red. Green. He stepped off the ramp, seeing Tai do the same out of the corner of his eye. He spread his arms and legs, getting stable. Then he began to move his arms and legs ever so slightly to direct his descent toward the submarine. He could see the man in the protective suit working on the machine just forward of the conning tower. Shit. Vaughn inclined his body forward into an almost direct dive down. He couldn't see Tai but assumed she was right behind him.

"Control, this is Dragon Leader. We have the target on the surface. Two personnel in sight. One in what appears to be a protective suit and working on something that looks like a weapon. Over."

Royce clenched his hands into fists.

"Do you have the Talon in sight? Over."

"Roger. And two people just parachuted out. Over."

"Hold your position. Out."

Royce closed the computer – it was of no use now – walked forward and leaned between the pilots, peering ahead. He saw the submarine now, about two kilometers off Diamond Head, nose pointed directly toward Honolulu.

The man in the suit looked up at Moreno and nodded that he was ready. Moreno looked across the blue water at the lush island ahead, the shoreline scarred with high rises and developments. The way the rich always did – destroying the beautiful for their own selfish purposes.

Moreno raised his arm to signal release of the agent.

Vaughn passed through 3,000 feet, and Tai was now alongside him in a very steep dive.

"They're going to do it," she yelled into the radio.

And with that she went vertical, head down, terminal velocity, outstripping Vaughn, who was still maintaining a stable position in order to be able to deploy his parachute.

Two thousand feet.

Vaughn went fully stable and reached for his rip cord, his eyes on Tai, who had to be a thousand feet below him and belatedly trying to do the same. He pulled his rip cord and was jerked from horizontal to feet down, head up, controlled descent. He immediately grabbed the toggles and dumped air from the chute.

Below him, Tai pulled her rip cord while still falling at a rate of speed beyond what was safe. The chute deployed, and the opening shock was so great, the straps of her harness ripped into her body. Her left thigh, taking the strong point of impact, dislocated out of the hip joint.