real location for you, do we, Torbin?”
The radar intercept expert looked like a blond bear, shrugging and shaking head. “I can get it down to a few miles. We can pass it on to Major Alou, have them take a look if they get a chance.”
“All right.”
“Sooner’s better than later,” said Stoner.
The others looked at him. Danny saw Breanna rolling her eyes.
Good, he thought to himself. It’s not just me. The spook is a jerk.
Chen Lo Fann saw the two aircraft appear over the water, his powerful binoculars straining to follow them as they rocketed upward from the carrier.
The limitations of the Russian-made planes had been clear before the accident with the Americans, but Beijing had reacted with shock and dismay, sending a long, rashly worded message filled with outrage.
To his credit, the admiral in charge of the task force had not tried to hide what had happened; he could easily have blamed the Americans for the accident or even claimed they had shot down his plane. Instead, the transmissions back and forth to the mainland made it clear that he was a man of integrity. While his actions cold be questioned — he clearly should not have authorized his attack planes to fire at the Indian submarine from long distance — his honor could not.
Undoubtedly he would be rewarded for his honesty with disgrace.
Reinforcements were on the way.
Opportunity, Fann thought, yet the Americans had complicated the picture.
What if they prevented the inevitable confrontation? What if they forced the navies back?
Until the arrival of the Megafortresses, the American posture seemed clear. The Pacific Fleet, concentrating on protecting vessels bound for Korea and Japan, was too far north to intervene in a clash, nor did its commanders seem of much mind to do so. Diplomatically, there was a lean toward India, and relations with Mainland China were as low as, if not lower than, at any time since Nixon’s trip to Beijing a generation ago.
But the Megafortresses represented unwelcome change.
Chen had promised conflict. His position with the government rested entirely on that promise.
This was not a time for panic. Surely, fortune continued to smile. Within a day, if not hours, there would be two aircraft carriers sailing southward. The Indians must react to their presence.
Chen was sure the submarine would act tomorrow; he was staking is career on it. At that point, fortune would take over.
The Taoist master Lao Tzu said the river was king because it knew how to take the low path. The river did not shrink from its strength, but it bided its time.
The sea was merely the river at large.
The Megafortresses and their small escorts presented a difficult problem, but as Chen considered it, he realized they represented opportunity as well. Perhaps there was more potential than the mere conflict he had seen. Perhaps there was an opportunity others might only dream of.
Jennifer Gleason leaned back from the computer, rubbing her eyes.
“So?” asked Ray Rubeo, standing on the sides of his shoes. “Work or not?”
“It’ll work,” Jennifer told him.
“Good, let’s go tell your sweetheart. He’s still up in his office. I’ll have Commander Delaford meet us there.”
Jennifer felt her entire body flashing red.
“You know, Ray, you can be a real jackass,” she said, grabbing the Zip disk as it popped out from its drive.
“What?” asked Rubeo.
“We’re not in Junior high.”
“Hmmmph,” said her boss. He touched his small gold earring nervously, but said nothing else as they walked to the elevator. The computer labs were housed in the same underground complex as the Megafortress project, a convenient arrangement when Jennifer’s main responsibilities were the computers governing flight operations for both the Megafortresses and the U/MFs. Now, however, her duties were much more diverse. She often found she had to travel either to one of the other bunker areas or to Taj, the main administrative building that also housed Dreamland Command and some of the labs dedicated to the UMB. While she could have a car or an SUV, Jennifer found it much more convenient to get around by bike. As they walked down the ramp, she reached into her pocket and took out two large rubber bands, which she used to keep her pants legs from fouling the chain.
“You’re not cycling, are you?” hissed Rubeo.
“Why not?”
“We’ll take my car.”
“No, I don’t think so.”
Rubeo said something under his breath.
“You shouldn’t talk to yourself, Ray.” Jennifer stopped and rolled the bands over the legs of her jeans, refusing to make eye contact. “It just reinforces the eccentric stereotype.” She took out another band for her hair and tied it back, then picked up the bike and rode over to the Taj.
She parked her bike — there was no need to lock it at Dreamland — and went inside to the notoriously slow elevator as Rubeo appeared in the lobby doorway. Finished with its complicated security protocol, the elevator doors began to close. Under other circumstances, Jennifer would have pushed the hold button, and clearly Rubeo expected her to, walking toward her nonchalantly.
Too damn bad, she thought to herself, letting them slam closed as she looked right at him.
Chief Master Sergeant Terrence “Ax” Gibbs met her in the hallway outside Dog’s office.
“Ma,am, pleasure to see you,” said Ax. “Colonel’s inside; I’m on my way to get him a little coffee. You want a little something?”
“Not really.”
He smiled. “A pineapple Danish maybe?”
“Well, you twisted my arm. Thanks, Chief.”
“You know, you really should call me Ax,” he said.
“I’ll try to remember.”
He smiled, bowed — actually, really, truly, bowed — then vanished through the door to the stairway.
Jennifer went into Colonel Bastian’s outer office, a medium-sized bullpen dominated by Gibb’s desk. Sally, a staff sergeant who oversaw much of the paperwork in Ax’s absence, greeted her and told Jennifer the colonel was inside on the phone.
“I have to wait for Dr. Rubeo and Commander Delaford anyway,” said Jennifer. She sat down in one of the metal folding chairs lined up against the wall. The metal chairs had recently replaced a set of plush velour seats. Jennifer suspected that was Ax’s doing, not Colonel Bastian’s. the chief master sergeant had a simple but straightforward philosophy regarding visitors — discourage them as much as possible. Most of the scientist grumbled privately about the hard seats; the military people didn’t seem to notice.
“So you beat me,” said Rubeo, entering the office. He looked out of breath, as if he had taken the stairs, though that was unlikely. “Congratulations.”
“I didn’t know it was a race.”
“The colonel is off the phone,” said Sally.
“He expects us,” said Rubeo. “Is Delaford in there?”
Before the sergeant could say anything, Rubeo pushed inside with a brisk but short knock. Jennifer followed a few paces behind; there was no reason to wait now.
“We’re ready to deploy Piranha,” said Rubeo before he even sat down. “The new E-PROMs will be down within the hour. All we have to do is select a recovery site for them to default to.”
“Already?” said Colonel Bastian.
Rubeo touched his small gold earring. “Of course.”
