“The telemetry circuits are open,” said Rubeo behind her, his voice soft and calm. “Go ahead. You don’t need to talk to them until the program is ready to run.”
Zen slammed the throttle against the stop, coaxing
Catching the clone from behind with
Zen laughed at the computer.
“You just want all the glory, my friend,” he said, momentarily baffling the verbal instruction interpreter circuits.
The clone had stopped accelerating. Its speed barely touched 200 knots. Zen gained rapidly and the targeting cue went to yellow as he started to close. But he had too much altitude and had to tug downward to get a better shot; his real danger was overshooting his target. One of the Elint operators upstairs started to tell him something, but just then the pipper went to red; Zen lit his cannon, riding a stream of hot lead down into the delta-winged aircraft.
The clone shot left, zigging desperately out of the way. But it was already too late for the robot; the right wing had been hit in three places and now cracked under the pressure of the turn. A large hunk of metal separated as the UAV jerked back north; before Zen could squeeze his trigger again, the airplane exploded in a red fireball.
Dog was too busy getting the Megafortress north to keep up with the U/MFs so he didn’t see the Harpoon’s strike on the tanker. He heard his copilot’s “Wha-hoo,” however, along with his more sober and professional “Good splash” pronouncement a few seconds later. By then, Zen had taken out the ghost clone, which collapsed into the water in its own fireball.
“See if the experts back home can figure out if there was a bomb on it,” Dog told Zen.
“Lost my link,” said Zen.
Dog reached to the buttons and keyed it back, feeling somewhat sheepish. A cacophony of voices flooded into his ears over the circuit.
“We’re talking first,” he said, trying to clear the line and the confusion. “Splash one ghost clone. We have a good hit on the tanker,
“Was the bomb aboard the UAV?” asked Catsman, back in Dream Command.
“We’re looking for your assessment,” said Dog.
He noticed that the Pentagon people were quiet. He’d undoubtedly have to deal with them later. They would not be pleased that he had killed the link.
So be it.
“Colonel, this is Danny Freah.”
“Go ahead, Danny. How are we?”
“We have complete possession of the site. There are no nukes in Building Two or Building One. Repeat, we have found no devices.”
“None? Did they have a bomb or not?”
“They do,” said Stoner. “It must have been moved.”
“It’s possible it was aboard the ship already. We’ve just sent it and the ghost clone to the bottom,” said Dog.
“I say we keep looking here,” said Stoner.
“Authorities are approaching the gate,” said Danny.
“Hold them off until you’ve completed a thorough search,” said Dog. “Look under every pile of garbage there.”
“That may take some time.”
“Understood.”
Chen Lo Fann strapped himself into the first officer’s seat of Island Flight A101, pulling on the headset. He had come from checking with Professor Ai in the back, making sure that the big jet was ready.
Discovering that the Americans had placed bugging devices in the hangar of his grandfather’s 767-200ER had caused him to move up his plans. But otherwise it had not complicated things too badly — his grandfather had apparently foreseen the possibility that the first plane would be discovered, and so had prepared a nearly identical 767 with the necessary launch and control apparatus, storing it in Hualin. Chen Lee must have suspected something himself, since he had ordered the UAV and the weapon moved from Taipei twenty-four hours before. Most likely he was only concerned about the possibility that security would be increased at the international airport when the president took off, but it was a fortuitous move.
Fate favored his plan. It was a sign that Chen Lo Fann had made the right decision to honor his grandfather’s wishes and fulfill his duty and destiny.
The only difficulty to be overcome was the length of the runway here. At roughly three thousand meters, it could not be called short. Nonetheless, it did present a challenge to the 767, which was not only fully loaded with fuel but had to take off with the UAV under its wing. Chen Lo Fann could not have gotten the plane up himself, and was only too glad to follow the exact command of the pilot in the captain’s seat as they completed their checklist and prepared to taxi to the runway.
Chen’s grandfather had disguised the aircraft well. It was a “combi” or combination passenger-cargo carrier; fake windows lined the fuselage, complete with lighting that helped simulate passengers moving around inside. The plane’s path from the hangar was obscured from the tower; the presence of the UAV under the wing could not be detected until it was off.
And then it would be too late.
The tower granted clearance. Chen Lo Fann took a long breath. The plane turned from the ramp.
“Ready?” asked the captain.
“Absolutely,” replied Chen, and the 767 began rumbling down the runway.
V
Vaporized
Dog did everything but call a time-out, trying to settle his people down so the situation could be sorted out.
Besides a thorough search of the harbor site and a look at the sinking ship, they needed to review all the data gathered during the exchange. Dog quickly confirmed that this was going on, then went to Jed at the Pentagon.
For now, anyway.
“Looking good, Colonel,” said Jed. “We confirm the so-called ghost clone is down.
R-1 was a specially equipped A-6 Intruder that carried a sensor array beneath its belly that would send live video (including near-infrared) back to the fleet, and from there back to the Tank. The destroyers, meanwhile, were
