“He’s directing us to Shanghai,” the pilot told Chen Lo Fann.
“Why?”
“He did not say.”
Chen Lo Fann sat back a moment, trying to puzzle out what Ai was doing. The UAV had been programmed to fly to the capital on its own; it no longer needed guidance. But what was Ai up to?
And then Chen Lo Fann realized.
“There’s another bomb on the plane,” he told the pilot, unsnapping his restraints.
The wing of the plane seemed to catch fire as Zen approached. The 767 bucked downward and then up, and his first thought was that it had been hit by a missile he hadn’t seen.
Then he realized what was really going on.
“Hawk leader — we have a launch from the airliner,” said Delaney, his voice about an octave higher than normal.
“Roger that,” said Zen. He turned
A small circle of red exhaust slid down through the left-hand quadrant of Zen’s screen.
The clone?
Zen started to follow.
Chen found professor Ai hunched over a large crate in the rear section of the aircraft behind the control deck for the UAV.
“Why didn’t you tell me there was a second bomb?”
“Your grandfather forbade it.”
“That’s not true,” said Chen Lo Fann. “My grandfather would not have done that.”
“He didn’t tell you about the first weapon,” said Ai. “Or the UAV and this plane.”
“But my grandfather would not have wanted to blow up Shanghai,” said Chen Lo Fann. “Why do you?”
Ai Hira Bai didn’t answer.
“Get away from the box,” said Chen. “We will not attack Shanghai.”
“If there is only one attack, the communists may not respond,” said Ai. “This will guarantee war, and we will win.”
“You want to destroy Shanghai. It’s where your people come from, isn’t it?”
Anger flashed in Ai’s eyes, but he said nothing.
“Away from the box,” said Chen. He took his hand out from behind his back, revealing the pistol he kept there.
“The city deserves to be destroyed,” said Ai. “Everyone who collaborated with the communists deserves to be destroyed.”
“Away from the box, or I will shoot you,” said Chen.
Ai nodded his head, and started to get up. Too late, Chen realized he too had a pistol.
The bullet tore into Chen’s left shoulder an instant before he fired his own weapon. For the first second, there was no pain. Surprised, Chen glanced at his arm, thinking Ai had somehow missed.
Then the pain came.
He fired again, but Ai had already collapsed. Chen took a step toward the scientist. The bullet had blown off a good part of his skull.
Pain seared Chen’s body, and Chen felt what his grandfather had felt before he died of the heart attack. He slipped down to his knees, his good arm grabbing at the crate that held the nuclear weapon. There was a digital arming device at the front. It blinked at him. As Chen Lo Fann tried to focus on the digits and make out the control, the pain rushed across his body.
It’s armed, he thought. Then he saw darkness and felt himself fall to the floor of the cabin.
“F-8s think it’s a missile,” said Delaney.
“Is it?” Dog asked.
“Not sure.”
“Can we get it with an AMRAAM-plus?”
“I can’t get a lock.”
“Get one.”
“Yes, sir.”
Dog leaned on the throttle slide, coaxing the power plants for more juice.
“Gonna screw up our fuel.”
“Mind what you’re doing,” said Dog. “Zen, we’re launching a Scorpion.”
“Roger that.”
“Bay,” said the copilot. The plane shuddered as the bomb bay door opened so the AMRAAM-plus could be fired.
“Locked—”
“Go!” said Dog.
Delaney launched. A second later, the Mainland planes turned sharply in front of them.
“They think we’re firing at them. They have ECMs active,” said Delaney. “That patrol plane over the mainland, fifty miles away — it’s some sort of airborne AWACS type, jamming.”
Dog ignored him. The techies liked to call the AMRAAM-plus guidance system “particularly robust,” meaning it was hard to jam. But the distance was another matter. The target had been over forty miles away when the missile was launched. While the air-to-air missile could hit Mach 4, it was operating at the very edge of its effective range.
“Wes, hail the pilot,” Dog said. “Tell him to turn around.”
Delaney launched a second missile, then snugged the belly of the Megafortress. The 767 was now visible in
“Missile batteries coming up,” said Delaney. “We’re just about over their territory.”
“Wes?”
“Not answering.”
“Stand by.”
Dog reached to the com panel to key in Jed Barclay. He wanted the President’s direct command before proceeding. As he did, one of the equipment specialists behind Dog said something — the Taiwanese fighters were asking their base for permission to shoot down the 767.
And received it.
“Jed, here’s our situation,” he told the NSC op. “We think there are two bombs. If one is aboard the UAV, that leaves one for the 767.”
“Understood, uh, the President is on the line.”
“Colonel, stop him any way you can,” said Martindale.
“Yes, sir. Zen?”
“Hawk leader.”
