White House,” she told him, pausing. “They’re assuring us a cease-fire has been worked out.”
“Well assure them a missile just flew by my windshield.”
“Yes, sir.” Catsman paused once more, apparently relaying the information. “There’s a possibility not all Chinese units got the message,” she told Dog. “It’s being reissued.”
A handy excuse, thought Dog — and one typically employed by the Chinese.
“I’m going to go east and circle. Hopefully he’ll think I’m over our guys and he’ll change direction,” said Dog. “I’m not sure what else I can do.”
“Colonel, be advised that our data on Chinese frigates indicate that it’s carrying HQ-7 antiair missiles similar to Cro-tales. You will be within lethal range of the missiles at seven miles.”
“I already found that out, Major. But thanks.”
The petty officer shot his arms into the air, signaling to Starship that the Werewolf was clear to launch.
“Werewolf powering up!” said the pilot, louder than necessary. His adrenaline was getting the better of him.
“Werewolf is away,” he reported to Tac as the robot leapt into the air. Starship spun his tail, got his nose down and whipped over the waves, racing for the Chinese pilot. The computer marked off his progress in a legend to the right of the red crosshair designating the man’s location. He throttled back as he reached the flier. The wash from the blades made the collar at the bottom of the rope dance back and forth. It wasn’t going to be as easy to grab as Starship thought.
The man in the water bobbed helplessly as Starship approached. He fired off a round of flares, trying to make sure he had the man’s attention, then nudged the Werewolf down until the collar skimmed in the waves. The wash from the rotors beat a circle before him as he worked slowly toward the pilot.
The pilot disappeared in a swell. Starship pushed forward in a rush, then realized that was the wrong thing to do — he was only roiling the water further. He slid the aircraft into a turn and throttled back as much as possible before trying again after the man’s head reappeared.
He stopped about four or five feet from the downed pilot.
“Grab it, damn it,” he said, sliding the collar right in front of his face, but the man still didn’t react.
He’s dead, he thought.
Not ready to give up, Starship nudged the stick back gently in the direction of the man. The collar hit the pilot in the chest as a small burst of wind nudged the aircraft downward.
“Grab it!” urged Starship. He flipped on the Werewolf ’s PA system and told him to take the line. The Chinese pilot still didn’t move.
Reluctantly, Starship started to nudge away.
“Tac, I’m afraid—”
He stopped mid-sentence as the screen from the chin cam caught his eye. The pilot had reached out his arm toward the collar.
“Finally,” said Starship, easing back.
Up on the
Obey orders and let them die?
The hell with that.
But armed with only his torpedoes, he’d be at a severe disadvantage if any of the Chinese ships became hostile. And the fact that one had just fired a missile at Bastian didn’t bode well.
He could turn off all of his active sensors and try to sneak into the area. But he couldn’t go blind, and Bastian had told him he’d have to leave the area to refuel. Putting out the
“Eyes, how close to the Chinese pilot is the Sharkboat?” Storm asked, pressing his intercom connection. “How long before it can come north and scout the area for us?”
“Captain, the Werewolf has the Chinese pilot in tow and is inbound.”
“How?”
“We had a rope rigged to the aircraft’s skid. Airforce thought of it.”
Those Dreamlanders — always thinking.
“Let me know when he’s aboard.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
Starship wasn’t sure how fast he could go before the injured pilot lost his grip. He started out slowly, at under ten knots, but the
He reached 100 knots before the destroyer came into view.
“Tac, I have our package ready to drop under the Christmas tree,” said Starship. “If you can clear me in to land.”
“Stand by. Security team to the helipad.”
Starship adjusted his altitude as well as his speed, bringing the pilot down about five feet from the waves. Four armed crewmen waited near the bull’s-eye on the fanged fantail. Starship tried to get the pilot right between them but moved a bit too abruptly and bowled over one of the sailors. The others scrambled to help, wrestling the Chinese pilot from the collar as they fought the wind from the helicopter above.
“Tac, tell those guys to take it easy,” said Starship. Not only was he worried that they were going to hurt the pilot, but their tugs pulled at the Werewolf, wreaking havoc with the controls. The computer kept trying to compensate, fighting Starship as he struggled to hold her steady above the moving ship.
“He’s secure,” said Eyes finally.
Starship pulled up.
“Airforce, you have your ears on?” barked Storm.
“Yes, sir, Captain.”
“I want you to run ahead and get a look at the ships between us and those Dreamland people. We’re turning off our radar so the Chinese don’t realize we’re coming. I want to see what I’m up against.”
“On my way.”
Dog’s plan worked — sort of. The Chinese frigate once more changed direction, sailing toward the spot in the ocean he was circling. But he’d also attracted the attention of a smaller vessel, which was now approached from the northeast. This was a small patrol boat, little more than an overgrown speedboat, but just as deadly to the men in the water. It was also more maneuverable, and more likely to search the area and conclude that the downed airmen were somewhere else.
Dog decided he would try and shoo it away; if nothing else, the frigate would be convinced that he was trying to protect someone there.
The aircraft growled as he pushed her wing down, moving farther sideways than forward and losing altitude more quickly than he’d intended. Dog wrestled it back under control in time to pass by the bow of the patrol boat at two hundred feet — not particularly low, though close enough to see the 40mm double-barreled gun on the foredeck as it swung in his direction.
Dog babied the stick, putting the Megafortress into another turn, this one as gentle as he could manage. He slid down to one hundred feet and came over the patrol boat. The 40mm gun turned again in his direction, but if it fired, Dog never saw the shots. He pulled off as he passed, and by the time he glanced down, saw that the vessel had turned back in the direction of land.
