“Helos coming up that road,” he told the pilot. “Can you get us out without them seeing us?”
“No way, Captain,” said the pilot. “I have to clear that ridge ahead or go right past them. Either way, they’ll see us.”
“All right. Go over the ridge as soon as we’re secured back here.” He switched his radio on. “Starship, see if you can slow those guys down a bit. We want to exit to the north.”
Starship took
He cut over the second chopper — another Hip — then circled around for another pass. If either helicopter pilot had seen him, they didn’t let on; both aircraft continued flying through the valley. They were doing about seventy knots, flying so low that their rear wheels, which hung on struts off the side of the fuselage, couldn’t have been more than a foot off the ground.
“This time I’m going to get your attention,” said Starship. He pulled into the valley ahead of the helicopters, jammed his stick back and let off a bunch of flares, climbing into the night like a giant Roman candle. Both helicopters immediately set down. Their rotors continued to spin, and the sandstorm that had been following them caught up.
“Helicopters are down, Whiplash,” said Starship. “Get out of there while you can.”
American Megafortress! Why are you firing on our helicopter?”
“We’re not firing at all,” said Englehardt. “You’re sitting right with us.”
“Cease your fire!” repeated the Indian.
“MiGs are dropping back,” said Sullivan. “Getting into position to fire heat-seekers at us. Air mines?”
Yes, thought Englehardt. Then no.
Anacondas?
He was way out of position for that. He’d have to use the Stinger.
They still hadn’t fired.
“Wait until they activate their weapons radars,” he told Sullivan.
“They don’t need their weapons radars,” said the pilot. “Hell, they can hit us with spitballs.”
“Starship, where are you?” asked Englehardt. He could feel sweat running down every part of his body, and his colon felt as if it was about to jump through his skin.
“
“Did you fire at them?”
“Just used my flares to get their attention. It worked.”
“Marine Osprey
“Cover the Osprey, Starship.”
“Yeah, roger, circling back to cover them.”
“American Megafortress, you will leave the area,” said the Indian pilot.
“I intend to,” answered Englehardt. “Be advised that we are over Chinese territory.”
“They’re talking to their controller again,” reported Sullivan. “They’re saying a lot of something.”
“As long as they’re talking, not firing, we’re fine,” replied the pilot.
Gradually, Danny Freah loosened his grip on the strap near the bulkhead separating the Osprey cockpit from the cargo area. Finally he let go and looked at his palm. The strap’s indentations were clearly visible.
“We’re OK?” asked Jennifer Gleason, sitting on the bench next to him.
“Yeah. We’re good. The MiGs are following the Megafortress to the east. We’re out of here.”
Danny followed her gaze as she turned and looked at the warhead, snugged in the middle of the Osprey’s cargo bay. It seemed almost puny, sitting between the Marines and their gear.
“Funny that such a small thing could cause so much destruction,” Danny said.
“I was just thinking it looks almost harmless there,” said Jennifer. “Like part of a furnace that needs to be overhauled.”
“I guess.”
A tone sounded in his helmet. Danny clicked into the Dreamland channel.
“Freah.”
“Danny, a Global Hawk with infrared sensors just located the last warhead,” said Dog. “It’s fifty miles north of you.”
“OK, Colonel. Team Three is waiting at Base Camp One. They can be airborne inside of ten minutes. Take them about sixty to get there.”
“I’m afraid it’ll be too late by then,” said Dog. “The Global Hawk has spotted a pair of pickups near the site, and four or five men nearby. Looks like another two trucks are on their way.”
“Give me the GPS point,” Danny replied.
VII. No Chance to Survive
The MiGs still hadn’t made a threatening move. Englehardt locked his eyes on the sitrep, sizing up the situation. The lead aircraft was about three miles behind the Megafortress. He was in the Stinger’s sweet spot — but then again, the
The Stinger needed about twenty seconds to “warm up” once activated. Englehardt didn’t want to turn it on until he meant to use it; he reasoned that the Indians didn’t know it was there, and were thus more vulnerable to it.
The Dreamland channel buzzed.
“Go,” said Englehardt, opening the communication line.
“Mike, the last warhead has been found,” said Colonel Bastian. “Danny and the Marines are on their way. We want you to cover them.”
“Be happy to, Colonel, but I have a complication.”
Englehardt explained his situation. The colonel winced. But if Bastian thought he’d done the wrong thing, he didn’t say.
“They’re not hostile?” he asked.
“Annoying, definitely,” said Englehardt.
Dog continued to frown.
“Should I shoot them down?” Englehardt blurted. “The rules of engagement—”
“Take the MiGs south with you,” said Dog. “I’ll have the
“Colonel, if—”
“Bastian out.”
Brad Sparks smiled as the Marine lieutenant gave an update on the ground team, which had just secured its warhead and was en route to Base Camp One. She had the sexiest voice he’d ever heard on a military radio.
“Did you copy, Dreamland
“Just daydreaming up here, Dancer,” Sparks told Lieutenant Klacker. “Anyone ever tell you you have a sexy
