Battle Born

or engineers or weapons designers known the world over — and here they were, all on one mysterious hand-drawn flight plan.

“Kavaznya — that was that antisatellite laser site in Siberia, wasn’t it?” Rebecca asked. “The one that had the accident? I remember the Russians claimed we bombed it, but everyone said its reactor had a meltdown.” She looked at Luger in complete surprise. “You… you bombed it?”

“With a damned B-52,” Rinc said breathlessly. “Here’s a picture of it… I think it’s a B-52, with the long pointed nose and the stealth fighter tail. This is the control wheel off it. You flew a B-52 bomber all the way inside the Soviet Union at the height of the Cold War and bombed its most important secret military site?”

“I see you’ve noticed our little display,” Patrick said. “Be careful what you ask me, you two — you may find yourself sinking deeper and deeper into the mysteries of Dreamland, and once you’re in, you can never return.

“We can end the tour right here. Colonel Luger won’t show you what’s inside. You’ve seen more than anyone else not part of the program has ever seen before, and you are the first nonactive-duty military types to ever set foot in here. But once you step inside, I can’t take you out again. The bracelet stays on forever. You may get your life in the Air Guard back again, but you will always be tied into the high-level security and scrutiny of this place. From the moment you step through that door, somebody will always be listening.”

“I… I’m not sure if I want to do it,” Annie Dewey said, twisting the vinyl-covered bracelet absently, then rubbing the spot where the microchip was injected. “I don’t know if I want to be part of all this intrusion into my life.”

“She’s being honest with herself and with me,” Patrick said. “All of you better do the same. Like General Samson said, the life you’ll live sucks. You may get to return to Reno and fly for the Nevada Guard, but Big Brother will still be watching. You’ll always be under scrutiny, you’ll always be watched. Not only you but your families, your friends, your coworkers — anyone who comes in contact with you.

“But you’ll be a part of something extraordinary, exciting, almost mystical. We get to fly the hottest jets, test the hottest weapons. We’re not on the cutting edge here — we’re a generation or two beyond it already.”

Patrick meant to say it with great excitement, as he did to so many other newcomers to the base. But he knew what it was like in that corridor back in Dreamland, with the faces and memories of old friends staring back at him from many years and many adventures — and he couldn’t do it. Working here, living here, making the commitment to be part of this place, it wasn’t at all about excitement. It was about doing a terrible job against even more terrible odds — and winning with the fewest number of losses.

Patrick, sitting alone back in the conference room at Adak Naval Air Station, thought about the stuff back on the wall at Dreamland with his somber “thousand-yard stare,” as if his friends and partners, both living and dead, were waving to him from somewhere on the horizon — which they were. They were telling Patrick to let go of his feelings, share his fears with these people. The shadows of the dead had accepted these strangers — now Patrick had to do the same.

He paused, mentally touched the photograph of Brad Elliott, and said in a quiet voice, “Maybe you’ll save some lives; maybe you’ll get to see your friends die horrible, slow, agonizing deaths. Maybe you’ll save the world from going up in flames; maybe you’ll be forced to do some illegal or immoral things, because the consequences of failure are too grave, and you’ll hate the world you live in because you’ve ruined it. Maybe you’ll make a little history; maybe you’ll die alone, fighting a battle your country will deny ever happened. If you’re lucky and your remains are recovered, you’ll be buried in a desert cemetery that no one will ever visit, because officially it doesn’t exist. Most times, you will just cease to exist.”

As they listened to the disembodied voice in their heads, Furness, Seaver, and Dewey looked at each other with a mixture of surprise and sadness. It was like staring into a dark cave and deciding whether or not to go inside. That simple door at the other end of the corridor seemed like the portal to another world. The three guardsmen looked at each other, silently querying themselves and each other. This time Rebecca was not going to make the decision for them.

Finally, Rinc Seaver shrugged. “Well, jeez, General,” he said, “when you put it that way, how can we refuse? I’m in.”

“Oh, hell — I’m in,” Rebecca said. It made her feel good that Rinc Seaver committed first — she was afraid that revealing his weakness to her might have dulled his fighting edge. It was good to see him want to get back into action once again.

“I’m in too,” John Long said. He had quietly entered the Corridor, escorted by Hal Briggs, as they stood and thought about their futures. He glared at Seaver. “As long as I don’t have to fly with that piece of shit.”

“Fine by me,” Rinc shot back.

“Don’t argue in this place!” Patrick snapped, jumping to his feet in the conference room nearly three thousand miles away, eyes blazing and neck muscles taut. “Don’t you dare even raise your fucking voices in that hallway, or I will come back and kick both your asses out into the desert myself! That place is as sacred as a church. The floor you stand on is hallowed ground. You will goddamn learn to respect that! Do you understand? Do you understand? ”

“Yes, sir,” Long mumbled.

“Yes, sir,” Rinc said. “Sorry, sir.”

“You fly with whoever we tell you to fly with, both of you,” Patrick said. “I think it’s time you got your heads screwed on straight, both of you. Colonel Long, Seaver didn’t cause the accident. He saved himself. He’s a good stick. Let him do his job.

“Seaver, you’re busy chasing ghosts that don’t deserve chasing. You’ve got to get your mind properly focused on your crew and your mission before we go flying. You think you have something to prove. You don’t. You just need to do your job and back up your teammates. That’s what’s important. Stop worrying about what others think or feel. Your life will be miserable if you don’t — and it won’t just be because of us here at Dreamland. You copy me?”

“Yes, sir,” Long and Seaver replied quietly.

“Captain Dewey? Are you in? You can go outside and think about it, give Tom or your folks a call if you’d like.”

“You know about Tom, do you, sir?” Annie asked the thin air, as if talking to an invisible friend.

“Hey, he’s a nice dude — for an urban cowboy wannabe,” Hal Briggs chimed in.

“Hell, Heels, we knew about him too — and we didn’t need any spies or listening devices to find out,” Rebecca said with a smile. “He looks real fine, but he doesn’t have a brain cell in his poor peanut head. Stay with us. We’ll have a good time as long as we stick together.”

“Then I’m in,” Annie said.

“Good,” Patrick said. “Colonel Luger, escort the new Megafortress crews into hangar one, please.” He visualized the photos, charts, and other memorabilia on the wall, gave the photo of Brad Elliott a light, warm touch with his fingertips, then gave his new air combat team a thumbs-up from three thousand miles away. “Go look at your new ride, Aces.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

MINISTRY OF DEFENSE HEADQUARTERS,

SEOUL, UNITED REPUBLIC OF KOREA

DAYS LATER

Reports coming in from Chagang Do province, sir,” General An Ki-sok, chief of staff of the United Republic of Korea armed forces, reported as he hung up the telephone. He was in the office of the minister of defense, retired general Kim Kun-mo. “Our infantry and artillery battalion at Pyorbai is under attack. At least two, possibly three battalions of light infantry and armor coming across the border. Kanggye is already surrounded and Chinese troops are in the city. We lost contact fifteen minutes ago — the Pyorbai barracks could already be overrun.”

“A Chinese invasion?” General Kim exclaimed. “So fast?”