“Come on, kid!” shouted Blow.
“Let me try, Sarge,” said Jonesy.
Liu ignored them, working steadily though he was starting to give up hope.
The baby’s heart wasn’t beating. He started CPR.
“I’ll respirate,” said Blow, dropping down beside him.
They worked together, desperate, for more than ten minutes, long past the point that there was any chance of the baby surviving. Finally, tears streaming from his eyes, Liu put his hand out to Blow, signaling that it was time to stop. He looked up at the father, who shrieked and ran from the room.
“Damn,” said Blow, jumping up to get him.
Just as he reached the door, automatic rifle fire lit up the front of the house.
Dog looked at the latest projections of where the remaining missiles had landed. There was just too much territory to cover.
“You’re going to have to narrow this down, Ray,” he told the scientist. “You’re including Afghanistan and half of China.”
“That’s an exaggeration, Colonel,” said Rubeo.
“Not by much.”
“We’re working on it. We have a theory on the solenoid valves. We think that rather than surviving the T- Rays, some of them may have locked the engines open. Ms. Gleason is still gathering data.”
Dog frowned but said nothing.
“If we could find a second missile and examine it, we could narrow the projections down considerably.”
“Is there any projection you’re surest of?” Dog asked.
“Statistically, they’re all the same,” said Rubeo. “But there is one where the geography makes the search easiest. Unfortunately, it’s the farthest from the U-2’s present track.
“Then we’ll take it,” said Dog.
“It is I-20, northeast of Siakor on the border.”
Dog looked at the long finger marked on the map as the search area. It was at the extreme southeastern end of Pakistan, roughly 450 miles from the base camp Danny and the Marines were using in the desert.
“Colonel, has Major Catsman had a chance to speak to you about General Samson?” said Rubeo.
“I’m sorry, I haven’t had a chance to talk to Major Catsman about that. I assume you’ve heard he’s replacing General Magnus.”
“That’s not exactly how it’s going to work,” said Rubeo. “He’s here. For the duration.”
“The duration?”
“It’s not going to be like the arrangement with Magnus. He’s taking over your job, Colonel. They’re going back to the arrangement that existed under Brad Elliott.”
Dog wasn’t surprised. Under ordinary circumstances, a base the size of Dreamland — let alone one of its importance — would be run by a general, not a lieutenant colonel. When he’d been assigned, everyone assumed he was there to close the place down.
Everyone except him. He’d fought for the Whiplash concept — a fighting force working closely with the developers of cutting-edge technology. The idea had proven itself long ago. And now the bureaucracy was catching up, folding Dreamland back into the regular hierarchy.
It was going to be a tough transition for a lot of people. Including himself.
“General Samson was making a distraction of himself in Dreamland Command,” continued Rubeo. “I nearly had him removed.”
“You
“I can give you the entire sordid tale if you wish, Colonel, but I assume you have better things to do. In any event, it’s irrelevant. I’ll be handing in my resignation at the end of this mission.”
“Yes, Colonel. It’s been a pleasure working with you too.”
“Ray—”
“You’ll excuse me, Colonel. I have work to attend to.”
The screen blanked. Dog stared at the black space on the dash in disbelief for nearly a full minute before turning to Sullivan and telling him to prepare for the course change.
Struck point-blank in the chest by the bullets, Blow fell back into the room. Liu scrambled to pull his Beretta from its holster and get out of the line of fire at the same time. A barrel appeared, then flashed. Liu brought up his pistol and began to fire. Before he realized it, he’d emptied the magazine into the Pakistani father.
Jones and Blow had both been shot by the father. Fortunately, they were wearing lightweight Dreamland body armor. Blow’s left ribs had been seriously bruised and possibly broken, but otherwise he was not seriously wounded. Jones had taken two bullets in the side, where neither did any damage; a ricochet had splintered some wood, which flew into his arm, cutting him, but that was the extent of his injuries.
The same could not be said for the Pakistani’s wife. Two of her husband’s bullets had struck her in the face, and another hit her heart. Any one of the wounds would have been fatal.
“This sucks,” groaned Jones. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. We were helping them, damn it.”
Liu paced the small room, not quite in a state of shock but not quite in full control of his senses either. The kerosene lamp flickered, casting its dim yellow shadows around the wretched scene. The dead infant lay nearby, its body splattered with blood as well as the green meconium it had been bathed in at birth. Blow had loosened his vest and was gingerly touching his side.
Jones suddenly rushed at the dead man and began kicking him. “You jackass. We didn’t kill your son. We were trying to help him.”
Liu grabbed him and pulled him out into the night. “It wasn’t our fault,” he said to Jones. “It wasn’t.”
“This sucks,” said Jones again. And then he started to cry.
Danny listened grimly as Liu recounted what had happened over the radio.
“Should we bury the bodies?” Liu asked.
“No,” said Danny. “Use the smart helmets to take as much video of the scene as possible. Leave things the way you found them. Leave the car. Come back by foot.”
“Take us about forty minutes, Cap.”
“Make it thirty. We’re just about ready to leave.”
Dog had never heard Danny’s voice tremble before.
“I take full responsibility for what happened, Colonel. I should never have sent them.”
“It was a tough call,” said Dog, not knowing what else to say.
“They’re on their way back now. They videotaped the scene. I told them to leave it the way it was,” said Danny. “They’re pretty broken up. I’ll evac them as soon as I get a chance.”
“We have to inform Admiral Woods,” said Dog.
“That’s my next call, Colonel.”
“They’re going to need to be debriefed.”
“I know, Colonel.”
There was nothing else to say, and nothing for Dog himself to do at this point.
No. He’d have to tell Samson.
Danny gave Dog a quick update on the warhead, then signed off. Before Dog could punch into the Dreamland channel and ask for Samson, Sergeant Rager sounded a warning.
“Colonel, I have two contacts at 250 miles, headed in our direction,” said the airborne radar operator. “Computer says they are Mikoyan MiG-31s.”
“Chinese?”
