Kick seemed surprised by Zen’s response and looked at him as if trying to figure out whether he was being tested. “Starship’s background with the F-15s means he has a little more experience. Right?”
“Just a little. You’ll catch up.”
Zen took a sip of his drink. Maybe, he thought, there was something more, something in their personalities. It seemed to him Kick was trying hard to be nice. He wouldn’t have.
Maybe that was all for show. Make nice to the boss.
“How’s your wife?” asked the lieutenant, trying to change the subject.
“Don’t know. She’s sleeping every time I call her,” said Zen.
“How’s the punch?” asked Stoner, coming over.
“It’s punch,” said Zen. “You agree with that crap the Australian was putting out?”
“Of course not,” said Stoner, taking a drink for himself.
“You didn’t argue with him,” said Zen.
“You think I could have changed his mind?”
Zen shrugged, though of course he didn’t.
“If I don’t listen to what people tell me, I won’t know what they’re thinking,” said Stoner. “It’s useful.”
“Man, I could never be a spy,” said Zen.
“Some of us are just born slimy,” said Stoner, his voice deadpan. “Right, Lieutenant?”
“I wouldn’t know, sir.”
Stoner looked down at Zen, smirking. Despite the fact that he still didn’t like the SOB, even Zen had to laugh along with him.
Dreamland
0500
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JENNIFER LAY ONthe couch, watching as the channels on her television clicked by, a mélange of infomercials, talking heads, and crashes filling the screen. She had been here for an hour or so, unable to sleep, not really up to leaving the apartment for her usual early-morning run. She was still locked out of her computers, and it seemed pointless to go anywhere or do anything.
Finally she saw the start of an old Warner Bros. Bugs Bunny cartoon and stopped. She observed scientifically as Bugs made his way out of the hole and began tormenting Elmer Fudd.
Wabbits. He sounded a bit like Ray.
But at least Rubeo had been fighting for her. He’d told Cortend exactly what he thought. More than she could say about any of her other so-called friends.
The phone rang.
Maybe it was Dog, calling to see how she was. If it was, did she want to talk to him? Why should she?
What could he possibly say?
The phone stopped. She waited a minute, then picked it up and checked her voice mail system.
No message.
Jennifer turned back to the TV just in time to see Fudd blast himself with his own shotgun.
She felt so sorry for him she started to cry.
Brunei IAP, Field Seven
Dreamland Mobile Command Post
11 September 1997
0710
DOG,ZEN,ALOU,and Stoner previewed the mission together, reviewing the latest intelligence from the States as well as Dreamland and the ASEAN flag staff. Two dozen ASEAN ships, mostly frigates and destroyers, would track the progress of a pair of Australian submarines across a swatch of ocean nearly twelve hundred miles wide over the course of the next few days. The exercises today were being conducted in an area two hundred miles east of the Vietnamese coast; besides the allied vessels, the Chinese had two trawler-type spy ships in the vicinity, as well as a submarine. Further to the north but still in the open sea, the Russians were expected to fly a long-range surveillance aircraft; they had done so yesterday, following the progress of the exercises. There were also a number of civilian flights and merchant vessels that would routinely ply the area.
“Flight plan is basic. We come up, rendezvous with the frigates, then keep going. Stop short of Hainan, we do a square out and catch the clone in the flat,” said Zen. “ Penn rides just to our half of the international side of the property line to make sure we have their attention. Raven and the Flighthawk with the passive sensor set are out in the flat, waiting for the lateral here to the West.”
“Who’s got the blitz?” asked Dog.
“We audible that at the line,” said Alou, not missing a beat.
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“The Chinese may or may not pick up the U/MF that launches from Penn on their radar,” said Zen, getting the hint and dropping the football metaphors. He pointed to the radar installation on the southern tip of the island. “Starship will pull around here and throw off some chaff so he’s visible on radar. Once they know he’s there, he heads southeast and launches the dummied-up Hellfire. It transmits and you track it a bit, Colonel. Basically orbit around for an hour, which should give them time to get the clone over in our direction.”
“They may send fighters if you get this close,” warned Stoner. “The Chinese aren’t known for subtlety.”
“I’ve gone through it with my guys. They know to ignore the fighters,” said Zen. They were standing in the main room of the Whiplash security trailer, which doubled as a home-away-from-home sit room. Live connections to Dreamland, and from there to the rest of the world, were just a hot key away. “Only way we’re going to get their attention is if we’re obnoxious.”
“If it’s Chinese, yes,” said Stoner.
“Only one way to find out,” said Dog. “Are you sure your guys can handle the decoy?” he asked Zen.
Neither of the new Flighthawk pilots had ever seen combat.
“All they have to do is fire the missile and hang on. We’re starting them off slow,” said Zen.
“Slow to us, but not the Chinese,” said Stoner. “Hainan is part of their country. It would be like going over Staten Island.”
“Worse case, Starship puts the Flighthawk on automatic and follows Raven home. Merce’ll kick them in the butt if they screw up,” added Zen, nodding to Major Alou.
“I don’t think I’ll have to,” said Alou.
“I’ll be watching from Raven. All they have to do is yell for help.”
Dog looked over the charts. Hainan was a large island below the Chinese Mainland across from northern Vietnam; its western shores edged the Gulf of Tonkin. The clone had appeared to the southeast of Hainan on the earlier mission. Zen and Stoner were theorizing that the clone was based northeast of there, and so its flight path would inevitably cross close to Raven.
The techies had made a few small tweaks to Raven’s Elint gear to optimize gathering in the frequencies the clone appeared to use. Raven should be able to detect and record transmissions at about two hundred miles, which would allow it to get plenty of data without having to go over Chinese territory. Of course, there was no real way of knowing how far its net would truly extend until the clone appeared.
Dog looked down at the charts, sorting out possible bases. Southern China was regularly covered by a variety of systems, from optical satellites to RC-135 launcher trackers. How could a UAV base be missed or overlooked?
“What if this came off a ship?” he said.
“The Chinese carriers were under surveillance the whole time,” said Zen.
“Not a carrier,” said Dog. He leaned over the map, practically putting his face on it. “There were plenty of ships that would be within range.”
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“Their destroyers, their patrol ships—everything was covered,” said Zen. “The Navy wouldn’t miss something like that.”
“What if you launched from a civilian ship?” asked Dog. “Is it possible?”
“You tell me,” said Stoner.
“You’d need some sort of catapult system,” said Zen. “Even then, it might be hard. One of the reasons the Flighthawks are air-launched is the stealthy characteristics would make it difficult for them to get airborne in a short distance. Besides, those other ships are not Chinese.”
“Maybe it’s not Chinese,” said Stoner.
“You could overcome the launch limitations,” said Dog. “Part of the reason the Flighthawks are air-launched has to do with their mission, working with EB-52s. There are other ways to go.”