side. Something . . . someone was moving around on the other side of the Excalibur.
She set her helmet and gauntlets down on the wing and ducked under the fuselage to investigate. From what Rachel just said there shouldn't have been any technicians working in that corner of the bay. . . .
Something struck her in the stomach as she straightened, knocking her backward against the hull of the fighter with such force that she banged her head. As she shook it, trying to clear her blurring vision and the ringing in her ears, she became aware of the pain in her abdomen. Her fingers, clutching at the spot, came away sticky with blood
And then her vision did clear, for a moment, as she slumped to the deck. The bulky figure standing over her might have stepped out of her worst nightmare.
'Hobbes . . .' she gasped. Then blackness took her.
Rachel Coriolis entered the Flight Control Center and dropped into the nearest vacant seat. 'God, I'll be glad to get some sack time,' she said. She suppressed a grin as she remembered the plans she'd made with Blair. She doubted either one of them would get much sack time tonight. 'They're all yours, Captain. And good riddance.'
Lieutenant Ion Radescu, the duty Flight Controller, gave her a grin. 'Come on, Rachel, you know you love it. What would your life be without fighters to work over, huh? '
'A hell of a lot cleaner,' she said, returning his smile. Since Admiral Tolwyn's departure, she'd gone right back to her old habits of dress.
Radescu chuckled and turned to his console. 'Okay, boys and girls, let's get this show started.' He thumbed a mike switch. 'Prowler Flight, this is Control. Radio check.'
'Prowler Two,' Vaquero said. 'Read you five by five.'
There was a moment of silence before Cobra's voice came on the speakers. 'Clear signal.'
The FCO frowned. 'Prowler One, I'm not getting anything on video from you. You got a fault showing?'
Again there was a pause. 'Negative.'
'Damned thing ought to be working, Rachel said, joining Radescu at the console. Those birds are so new you can still smell the fresh paint.'
'Want to have a look?' Radescu asked.
'It ain't enough to get a down-gripe,' Rachel told him. 'Long as audio's working, I don't see a problem.' She paused. 'I'll take a look when they get back in.'
'Okay, Chief,' the FCO nodded. 'Prowler Flight cleared to launch.'
Out on the flight deck below them, the fighters rolled into position in their launch tubes. Green lights flashed on Radescu's board. 'Launch when ready,' he ordered.
And the two Excaliburs hurtled into space.
Rachel turned away. 'I'm gonna grab me a cup of something hot and then check on my students in Ready Room Three,' she said over her shoulder. 'Yell if you need me — The intercom shrilled. 'Flight Control, Bay Twelve,' a hoarse voice was loud over the speaker. 'I just found Cobra down here. She's hurt . . . real bad!'
'Cobra?' Rachel and Radescu spoke at the same moment.
'What the hell . . . ?' the FCO added. 'Rachel, get down there and find out what's going on.' He was already punching in a combination on the intercom 'Bridge, this is Flight Control. We have a problem . . .'
'Our job, then, is tae remain clear of the fighting unless absolutely necessary. Let the rest of the fleet thoroughly engage the bloody moggies and then slip around to the back door, the jump point to Kilrah. Then, laddie, your squadron will launch.'
Blair nodded as Paladin finished. 'With luck, the Excaliburs will cloak before the cats see us out there, and we can reach the jump point without ever being noticed. Very pretty planning, General.'
Taggart grinned. 'Another fine product of the Covert Ops planning staff,' he said. 'Just remember, laddie, that the cloak's nae good at close range. It hides ye from sensors, but it doesna make you invisible.'
'I'm still not very happy about sending the fighters through blind.' Eisen spoke up for the first time since the briefing had started. 'They'll have no support . . . and if they run into trouble before they refuel they won't be able to recharge their jump generators and make it back here safely. If this really is a back door into Kilrah, wouldn't it be better going in with them?'
'We dinna ken how well defended the jump point might be,' Paladin said. 'The fighters will have to decloak to jump, of course, and they'll be detected as they enter the system. But if they cloak right away, they can evade any reception committees in the neighborhood. Send a carrier in, and we stir up a hornet's nest.'
'I appreciate the concern, Captain,' Blair added, meeting Eisen's eyes. 'Fact is, our chances of getting back aren't that good one way or another. I'm treating this as a one-way mission . . . volunteers only. If we can get back, great. But none of us will be under any illusions.'
'Laddie —' Paladin began. He was cut off by the ululation of an alarm siren.
'Flight deck. Emergency.' The voice on the tannoy belonged to Rollins, but it was almost unrecognizable, choked with emotion. 'We have a problem on the flight deck!'
'Blair, get down there,' Eisen rasped, pushing back his chair and getting to his feet. 'I'll be on the bridge . . .'
'On my way,' Blair said. He was already halfway to the door, but Paladin, despite his age and bulk, was right behind him. They raced to the elevator, all pretense of officer s dignity forgotten.
Rachel met them at the door to the hangar deck. 'Bay Twelve,' she said, grim-faced. The two men didn't wait for an explanation. They hurried down the row of fighter bays to the empty space that had housed the Excalibur assigned to Lieutenant Buckley.
Cobra was lying near the back of the bay, half hidden by a rack of testing equipment. There was blood on the deck where she'd been dragged to the niche, and a larger pool of blood around her. Someone had tried to staunch her wounds with a makeshift bandage, but it wasn't controlling the flow of blood. Blair knelt beside her and lifted it to examine her injuries. Four deep slashes cut across her stomach, and the sight of those wounds made Blair, hardened veteran that he was, turn his head away.
He had seen that kind of disemboweling cut before after the ground fighting on Muspelheim a decade ago. The cuts could only have been made by a Kilrathi's claws.
Blair tried to ignore the nausea welling up inside him. Cobra's eyes fluttered open. 'Colonel . . .' she gasped.
'Hobbes?' he asked, knowing the answer.
'He . . . hit me. Don't know why . . .'
'I do,' Paladin said grimly. He held up a holo-cassette. 'He must have dropped this when he dragged her over here.'
Taggart pressed a button, and a small holographic image formed in the air above Cobra. It took Blair a moment to recognize the scene. It was a view of Eisen's ready room, shot from a high angle. The three figures there belonged to Eisen, Paladin, and Blair.
'This is the Temblor Bomb,' Paladin's image said. 'It was developed by Doctor Philip Severin, one of the top research men in the Confederation. It's been undergoing tests for some time now . . . nearly a decade, in
