“It is time,” he told Chen Lo Fann through the aircraft’s radio. “We must act.”

“Yes. Launch the plane.”

Ai went through the procedure quickly, directing the pilot to begin his descent only a few seconds after he had ascertained all was ready.

The small UAV fell free of the wing. Ai’s hands shook as he watched the plane’s progress on his computer screen.

He tapped the command and severed the communications tie. The computer program aboard the UAV

would carry it on its way.

Now he could carry out his own plan.

“Change course,” he told the pilot, giving him new coordinates. Then he got up to go to the back of the aircraft.

“HE’S DIRECTING USto Shanghai,” the pilot told Chen Lo Fann.

“Why?”

“He did not say.”

Chen Lo Fann sat back a moment, trying to puzzle out what Ai was doing. The UAV had been programmed to fly to the capital on its own; it no longer needed guidance. But what was Ai up to?

And then Chen Lo Fann realized.

“There’s another bomb on the plane,” he told the pilot, unsnapping his restraints.

Aboard Raven

0332

THE WING OFthe plane seemed to catch fire as Zen approached. The 767 bucked downward and then up, and his first thought was that it had been hit by a missile he hadn’t seen.

Then he realized what was really going on.

“Hawk leader—we have a launch from the airliner,” said Delaney, his voice about an octave higher than normal.

“Roger that,” said Zen. He turned Hawk Three in the direction the 767 was flying. Mainland China lay in the distance, lights glittering in the dark night.

A small circle of red exhaust slid down through the left-hand quadrant of Zen’s screen.

Page 226

The clone?

Zen started to follow.

Aboard Island Flight A101

0334

CHEN FOUNDPROFESSORAi hunched over a large crate in the rear section of the aircraft behind the control deck for the UAV.

“Why didn’t you tell me there was a second bomb?”

“Your grandfather forbade it.”

“That’s not true,” said Chen Lo Fann. “My grandfather would not have done that.”

“He didn’t tell you about the first weapon,” said Ai. “Or the UAV and this plane.”

“But my grandfather would not have wanted to blow up Shanghai,” said Chen Lo Fann. “Why do you?”

Ai Hira Bai didn’t answer.

“Get away from the box,” said Chen. “We will not attack Shanghai.”

“If there is only one attack, the communists may not respond,” said Ai. “This will guarantee war, and we will win.”

“You want to destroy Shanghai. It’s where your people come from, isn’t it?”

Anger flashed in Ai’s eyes, but he said nothing.

“Away from the box,” said Chen. He took his hand out from behind his back, revealing the pistol he kept there.

“The city deserves to be destroyed,” said Ai. “Everyone who collaborated with the communists deserves to be destroyed.”

“Away from the box, or I will shoot you,” said Chen.

Ai nodded his head, and started to get up. Too late, Chen realized he too had a pistol.

The bullet tore into Chen’s left shoulder an instant before he fired his own weapon. For the first second, there was no pain. Surprised, Chen glanced at his arm, thinking Ai had somehow missed.

Then the pain came.

He fired again, but Ai had already collapsed. Chen took a step toward the scientist. The bullet had blown off a good part of his skull.

Pain seared Chen’s body, and Chen felt what his grandfather had felt before he died of the heart attack.

Page 227

He slipped down to his knees, his good arm grabbing at the crate that held the nuclear weapon. There was a digital arming device at the front. It blinked at him. As Chen Lo Fann tried to focus on the digits and make out the control, the pain rushed across his body.

It’s armed, he thought. Then he saw darkness and felt himself fall to the floor of the cabin.

Aboard Raven

0335

“F-8S THINK IT’Sa missile,” said Delaney.

“Is it?” Dog asked.

“Not sure.”

“Can we get it with an AMRAAM-plus?”

“I can’t get a lock.”

“Get one.”

“Yes, sir.”

Dog leaned on the throttle slide, coaxing the power plants for more juice.

“Gonna screw up our fuel.”

“Mind what you’re doing,” said Dog. “Zen, we’re launching a Scorpion.”

“Roger that.”

“Bay,” said the copilot. The plane shuddered as the bomb bay door opened so the AMRAAM-plus could be fired.

“Locked—”

“Go!” said Dog.

Delaney launched. A second later, the Mainland planes turned sharply in front of them.

“They think we’re firing at them. They have ECMs active,” said Delaney. “That patrol plane over the mainland, fifty miles away—it’s some sort of airborne AWACS type, jamming.”

Dog ignored him. The techies liked to call the AMRAAM-plus guidance system “particularly robust,”

meaning it was hard to jam. But the distance was another matter. The target had been over forty miles away when the missile was launched. While the air-to-air missile could hit Mach 4, it was operating at the very edge of its effective range.

“Wes, hail the pilot,” Dog said. “Tell him to turn around.”

Delaney launched a second missile, then snugged the belly of the Megafortress. The 767 was now visible Page 228

in Raven’s own infrared screen, a blur growing in the lower right-hand quadrant.

“Missile batteries coming up,” said Delaney. “We’re just about over their territory.”

“Wes?”

“Not answering.”

“Stand by.”

Dog reached to the com panel to key in Jed Barclay. He wanted the President’s direct command before proceeding. As he did, one of the equipment specialists behind Dog said something—the Taiwanese fighters were asking their base for permission to shoot down the 767.

And received it.

“Jed, here’s our situation,” he told the NSC op. “We think there are two bombs. If one is aboard the UAV, that leaves one for the 767.”

“Understood, uh, the President is on the line.”

“Colonel, stop him any way you can,” said Martindale.

“Yes, sir. Zen?”

“Hawk leader.”

Aboard Island Flight A101

0335

“HAVE YOU DONE your duty?”

“Yes, Grandfather.”

“Your lessons are complete?”

“Yes, Grandfather.”

“Can you describe the Tao?”

The question shook Chen Lo Fann. He and his grandfather were in the midst of a large garden, with water burbling nearby. Chen was nine or ten.

“The Tao is the way,” said Chen. “The world—our fate—everything together.”

“The path we follow,” said Chen Lee.

“Yes,” said the boy.

“We will be reunited with our homeland someday,” said the old man. “But the path is not a straight one. Remember that life and death are mere steps on the path, as stones next to each Page 229

other in the garden.”

The dream ended abruptly. Chen Lo Fann found himself staring at the bomb in the crate, numbers sliding away on the trigger device.

His grandfather had not wanted to blow up Shanghai; that was Professor Ai’s doing.

The digits drained to 1:00, then 0:59.

It would blow up in less than a minute.

Should he let it? Ai’s argument made some sense—two bombs would be impossible to ignore; the communists would have to respond.

But many innocent people would die.

Was Shanghai any different from Beijing?

Chen stared at the numbers.

:30

Bombing Shanghai was not his grandfather’s will. Chen Lee had made no secret of where the bomb was to be exploded.

The plane veered sharply to the left, shuddering as it turned, losing altitude.