“They’re going to launch any minute,” Harry prodded.
Monk Delany shot a sour glance over his burly shoulder. “I’m ready. I’m ready. Let ‘em launch.”
Bending over the seated Delany, Harry saw that the ranging laser’s screen was clear. Nothing in view.
“Did I hear one of those blue-suiters say we’ve got fighters coming after us?” Delany had his headphone solidly clamped to one ear. Obviously he’d been tuned in to the intercom chatter.
“That’s what they said,” Harry replied tightly.
“Are we turnin’ back?”
“No.”
“But they could shoot us down!”
Harry said, “Or force us to land in North Korea.”
“Christ Almighty,” Delany muttered.
“You’re going to be a hero, Monk. We all are.”
“Dead or alive.”
Harry tapped Delany’s shoulder. “One way or another, Monk. One way or another.”
“They got parachutes on this bird?”
Harry forced a laugh. “I’ll go look,” he said. He left Delany fiddling with the ranging laser’s controls and ducked through to Taki’s battle management station.
She looked up at him. “We’re being chased by a couple of fighters?”
Harry nodded as he slid into the chair next to hers. “That’s the news from upstairs.”
“This is going to get bad, isn’t it?”
“Looks that way. But we don’t have any way out of it.”
“The pilot could turn us around and head back to Japan,” Taki said without taking her eyes off the screens of her console.
“She’s not going to do that. They’ll be launching those missiles any minute.”
“And after that they’ll shoot us down.”
“Taki, there’s nothing we can do about that. We’re in this to the brutal end.”
The look on her face was really inscrutable, Harry thought. What’s she thinking? She doesn’t look scared, or sore, or… anything.
As Harry slapped a headphone set over his baby-fine hair, Taki said, “You’re pretty cool, Harry. Pretty damned cool.”
“Me?” He felt totally surprised. “I’m scared halfway to death!”
“Halfway,” she said, with a slight curve of her lip. It might have been the beginning of a smile, Harry thought. Or a sneer of disdain.
With a shake of his head to clear his thoughts, Harry turned back to the console in front of him. “We’ve got business to do.”
“Right, chief.”
Harry puzzled over the intercom board for a moment, then pressed the key that he hoped connected to Rosenberg, back aft.
“Yo,” said Angel Reyes’s voice.
“Where’s Wally?”
“In the toilet. I think he’s throwin’ up.”
“Great.”
“Naw, I’m only kiddin’. He’s takin’ a leak.”
Harry realized that Angie and Wally hadn’t heard about the North Korean interceptors. Good. They’ve got enough to worry about just keeping their minds on business.
He asked into his lip mike, “You guys ready back there? Everything up and running?”
Reyes’ voice took on a more formal tone. “All systems are go,
“Any problems? Any anomalies?”
“Pressures in the green. Pumps functional. Feed lines purged and clean. We’re ready to rumble, boss.”
“Good,” said Harry. “Looks like the rumble’s about to start.”
“With all due respect, sir, I should be downstairs with the situation team,” General Scheib said. The Secretary of Defense nodded once. With a glance at the Secretary of State, sitting to one side of his wide, gleaming desk, he replied, “We need your honest assessment of the situation.”
“And yours,” State said, pointing a manicured finger at Michael Jamil, her face a mask of ice.
Scheib was on his feet in front of the desk, his uniform immaculate, his chiseled face clearly showing his displeasure. Jamil stood beside him, Zuri Coggins slightly behind the two men.
“Honest assessment?” the general echoed. “The Koreans are about to launch their two remaining missiles. Our antimissiles systems are on alert. The airborne laser plane is approaching the North Korean coast.”
“Are those missiles aimed at San Francisco?”
“No,” said Scheib.
“Yes,” said Jamil.
With an angry glance at Jamil, General Scheib insisted, “They don’t have the range or accuracy to reach San Francisco.”
“They do if they’ve been upgraded by the Chinese,” Jamil retorted.
“You’re not still accusing the Chinese of this?” the Secretary of State said.
“It’s the only scenario that makes sense,” Jamil explained. “The DPRK wouldn’t dare start this unless they knew the Chinese were backing them up.”
“But I’ve had assurances…” State’s voice dwindled away as she realized that she had nothing but the unsupported word of an informal back-channel contact.
Jamil took half a step toward her and said earnestly, “Madam Secretary, we know that the North Koreans launched the bomb that knocked out our satellites. That took more thrust and accuracy than their Taepodong-2 missile has. It had to be upgraded. And where’d they get a nuclear warhead? Their own nuclear program isn’t that advanced.”
Defense was frowning. State looked distracted, as if she was trying to absorb this information and match it with what she’d thought she’d known earlier.
Jamil went on, “Pyongyang wants—needs!— reunification with South Korea. China wants Taiwan. They both want us out of Asia.”
Defense put up a beefy hand. “Wait a minute. How does bombing San Francisco and killing the President get them any of those things?”
“Are we willing to have a nuclear war with China?” Jamil demanded. “Are we willing to see half our cities destroyed, maybe more? A hundred million casualties? Over Taiwan and the reunification of North and South Korea?”
“If they kill the President—”
“Even then, sir. The Chinese are betting that we’ll back down. And if we don’t, if we launch our missiles at China, they’re betting they can absorb our attack and come out the winner.”
The Secretary of State heard Quang’s warning in her mind,
“But we wouldn’t attack China,” State said, as if trying to convince herself. “We’d attack North Korea.”
“And China would retaliate. They’d have to. They couldn’t sit back while we destroyed an ally that’s right on
