It didn’t hurt either that Zen was off in the other plane.

“ Hawk One is coming through 25,000 feet, on course and ready,” he told Penn’s pilot, Major Alou.

“Systems are solid. Instruments are in the green. I’m ready, Major.”

“Roger that,” said Alou, his voice so calm it sounded as if he were ready for a nap. “Preparing for alpha maneuver and launch on Hawk Two.”

The big aircraft began to dip, sleighriding downhill as it fell into the launch maneuver for the other U/MF.

The launch went perfectly; Starship saw his wingman pop onto the sitrep to the west, picking up speed as the computer and pilot double-checked their systems.

“As we drew it up, boys,” said Major Alou. “Starship, you have the first run over the target area. Keep your altitude up; we don’t want anyone hearing us. You ready?”

“Born ready,” said the pilot, tacking onto his course back toward land.

Aboard Dreamland MC-17 Quickmover over the Taiwan Strait 2355

DANNYFREAH WAITEDuntil he had the infrared feed from the Flighthawk before clicking the bottom of the visor to get the computer-interpreted view from the Dreamland tactical computer system. Located deep in the computer bunkers below the Megafortress hangars, the computers were sifting through the data supplied by the camera and radar in Hawk One, interpolating it with what was already known about the site.

Building Two, their primary objective, was occupied by a single guard at the shore side of the compound. Another dozen men were nearby, in a building about a hundred yards away, most of them clumped in a basement suite they had identified as the security headquarters. The suite and its sensors would be blinded by the E-bomb, which would effectively fry any unshielded electronics within a half mile of its air-burst explosion. The bomb—actually a small laser-guided missile that could be controlled by Danny once launched—sat in Penn’s bomb bay, ready to go.

“All right, listen up, you can see the schematic,” said Danny as the image of the site flashed into his team’s helmets. “As we planned it. Liu and Boston on Shed One. My team has the security headquarters building. Bison and Reagan, you have the approach. Make sure the Marines don’t kill us,” he added, knowing it would get a laugh from his men.

Six Marines, all trained in SF warfare, were jumping with the team to help take control of the perimeter.

They too were armed with nonlethal weapons—Remington shotguns, equipped with crowd-control shells, along with M-4s as backups. Frankly, the hardest part of his job so far had been convincing the Marines they had to stay behind his guys once they got on the ground.

Two companies of Marines had squeezed aboard the Dreamland Osprey and would roar in once the Whiplash team was down. Four small boats sat about a mile offshore, filled with Marines, ready to race into the harbor. Danny had worked with a number of Marine units over the past few years and was confident that, despite a bit of jawing back and forth, they’d do as good a job as his troopers.

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What he hadn’t worked with before in combat was the fogsuit. It was a great idea in practice, certainly, and had done well during the exercises. But jumping from a large aircraft in the middle of the night was always a risky venture. If the bulky suit felt uncomfortable to him, he was sure it would feel uncomfortable to most if not all of the others.

And being uncomfortable was never good.

But it was too late to take them off. The light flashed. The ramp at the back of the aircraft cranked open.

The wind howled.

“We’re going,” he told Major Alou aboard Penn.

“Missile launch is counting down,” replied the pilot over the Dreamland circuit.

Bison, the jumpmaster, put up his fist.

“Let’s go,” Danny heard himself say.

Aboard Raven , over the Taiwan Strait

15 September 1997

0002

ZEN HAD SPLIThis lower control screen in half so he could see a sitrep feed from Dream Command showing the assault. The screen was tiny, especially in the helmet viewer, but he avoided the temptation to make it his main view—he was controlling two Flighthawks from the hold of the Megafortress, orbiting Dragon Prince, and watching for signs of activity. While the computer was presently doing most of the work, Zen couldn’t afford to let his attention stray too far from the controls.

“First wave is out of the plane,” relayed Dog, who was piloting the plane. “Looking good.”

“Yeah.”

“Merce is ready to go with the E-bomb.”

“Roger that.”

Zen checked his instruments, purposely trying to draw his attention away from the other operation. His guys were good. They could handle it.

Best thing to do was let them.

“Hawk leader, you want to take a run over the ship’s deck?” asked Dog. “Get a real close-up and see if we can spot the clone?”

Zen acknowledged, then took the helm of Hawk Three—his U/MFs were designated Three and Four to avoid confusion—and tucked toward the oil tanker, which was about ten nautical miles from the mouth of the Kaohisiun harbor.

The sitrep for the assault flickered.

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“E-bomb went off as scheduled,” said Dog. “The power is gone in that part of the city. Everything’s on schedule.”

“Roger that,” said Zen, forcing himself to concentrate on the task at hand.

On the Ground in Kaohisiung

0004

DANNY HIT THEroof of the building square in the middle, only a quarter meter from the point the computer had designated. With two quick snaps, he had unhooked his chute. He pressed the trigger on his taser lightly, activating its targeting mechanism. Its aimpoint appeared as a crisp red circle in his Smart Helmet visor. With the helmet’s starscope vision showing him the night, there was no need to pop on the LED wristlight that was an integral part of the fogsuit; instead, he made his way to the end of the building above the door closest to the security headquarters. He saw the door open as he reached it. Kneeling, he waited as two of the company guards emerged from the building, each carrying a handgun. As the door started to close behind the men, he fired.

Vvvvrooop.

Vvvvrooop.

A net of blue light enveloped the men. Both Taiwanese spun slightly, stunned by the shock of electricity pulverizing every muscle and nerve in their bodies. Danny climbed over the edge of the roof and swung down, landing on his feet a few feet from the men he had downed. The shock had rendered them semiconscious. He kicked the guns away, then Danny took a small plastic canister from his pocket. It looked like a grenade with an extra-long spoon handle. He pulled the handle and tossed it between the men, stepping back as netting material expanded over them. The sticky material was not escape-proof, but it would easily hold them in place until the reinforcements arrived.

Egg Reagan, meanwhile, had come around the side of the building. He slapped what looked like the head of a plunger on the door; it was actually a man-portable radar unit similar to SoldierVision to help them see inside. Using the unit rather than their own Smart Helmets would prevent anyone from homing in on the source of the radio waves and targeting them. Egg strung a wire to the unit and stepped around the corner, viewing it in his helmet visor after attaching the wire at the back.

“Clear,” said Egg.

The door was locked. Danny took out a Beretta loaded with metal slugs and fired point-blank through the mechanism.

“Still clear,” said Egg.

“In.”

The hall, dark because both the electricity and backup lighting had been knocked out by the E-bomb, made an L about twenty feet from the door. As they cleared the corner, the yellow beams of small flashlights danced at the far end.