“Getting static here,” said Fentress as they cleared the shop.

“Activate the targeting radar for the air mines,” said Breanna.

“Captain?” said Ferris.

“We’ll get their attention, launch another probe while we’re firing, sink the first, launch a third further away, then sink the second,” said Breanna. “Calculate it so we come close, but don’t hit them with the shrapnel.”

“I’m not sure I can do that. I don’t even know if I can get the gun on them.”

“You can do anything, Chris.” She swung the Megafortress through another turn so she could get her tail aimed at the spy ship.

“All right. We cross over the trawler, bank, take our shot, then launch.”

“You disappoint me,” she told him, hitting the throttle for more speed.

“How’s that?”

“All that potential and no sexual innuendo?”

“Yeah, well, you should hear what I’m thinking.”

Aboard Shiva in the South China Sea

1830

IT wasn’t until he was four miles from the aircraft carrier that the Chinese destroyer picked up Balin’s submarine. Even then, the destroyer wasn’t quite sure what if had found, or where its quarry was—the ship began tracking north, probably after one of the other subs Balin’s men had detected in the vicinity. And so he managed to get nearly two miles closer before Captain Varja passed the word that the enemy escort was now bearing down on them.

“Prepare torpedoes,” said Balin calmly.

“Torpedoes ready,” said Varja.

“Range to target?”

“Three thousand, five hundred meters,” reported the captain.

The others in the control room were trying to strangle their excitement; the few words they exchanged as they prepared to fire were high-pitched and anxious. Varja, though, was calm. Balin appreciated that; he felt he had taught the young man something worthwhile.

“We will fire at three thousand meters,” Balin said.

A moment later, a depth charge exploded somewhere behind them. The boat shook off the shrudder and the helmsman managed to stay on course, but Balin realized this had only been the opening blow.

“Launch torpedoes,” said the admiral. “Sink them.”

Aboard Quicksilver

1835

In order to get the air mines where Chris wanted them, Breanna had to practically stand the Megafortress on its tail, fighting all of Newton’s laws—not to mention those of common sense. Breanna barely managed to control the big plane, sliding sideways across the waves at a mere thousand feet. She finally had to let her left wing sail downward; the front windscreen filled with blue before she could recover.

“Got a couple of shots on their bow,” said Chris. His helmet was touching the display where the Stinger target box was displayed. “I don’t think we hurt anybody. They all ran aft. Ship’s dead in the water, eight, ten feet from the buoy.”

“Get ready to launch,” said Bree calmly.

“Okay, right.”

“Fentress?” she asked.

“Not as much static. Geez, those bullets make a hell of a racket hitting the water. You should see them on the display screen—look like volcanoes erupting on top of you, then there’s this wild crisscross pattern in different shades of red and blue. Very 1960s. I had to hit the manual filter and—”

Fentress stopped abruptly.

“We’re at launch point,” said Chris.

“Wait,” she told him. “Fentress? Kevin? You okay down there?”

“Torpedoes in the water.”

“What?”

“Back by the carrier,” said Fentress. “Have two, three warning blocks.”

“Launch the buoy,” she told Chris. “Kevin. We’re launching. You sure about the torpedoes?”

“Yes ma’am. Have another sub.”

“Give the coordinates to Chris as soon as you can. Buoys first.”

Aboard the Dragon ship in the South China Sea

1838

Realizing his presence made the men nervous, Chen Lo Fann had refrained from coming into the operator’s suite until the robot planes were approaching the fleet. Now, his place was in this room.

They rose as one as he entered, bowing stiffly. After he returned their salute, they went back to what they were doing.

The long LCD screen at the center of the room was gray. He started at it, wondering why he had not been told of the malfunction, before realizing he was seeing clouds.

“We will descend from the clouds in thirty seconds,” said Professor Ai. Overcoming the mishap with the crane seemed somehow to have calmed him, or at least drained some of his energy. He spoke slowly now, more himself. “The carriers will be in the far corner to your left. There is one Sukhoi approaching, but its radar has not detected us.”