“Roger.”
Jake keyed the mike. “Left turn, Jelly.”
Two mike clicks was the reply.
One minute passed, then two. Jake stabilized the airspeed at 250 knots, max conserve. He scanned the instruments and resumed his visual search of the heavens.
“I’ve got him, CAG,” Toad said. “Looks like a hundred and twenty miles out. He’s headed southwest. Got the right squawk.” The squawk was the radar identification code. “He’s running about a mile or so above us.”
Jake flipped the secondary radio to the channel the E-2 Hawkeye used and listened to the crew report the airliner to the Combat Decision Center (CDC) aboard the carrier. He knew the radio transmissions merely backed up the data link that transmitted the Hawkeye’s radar picture for presentation on a scope in CDC. The watchstanders aboard ship would watch the airliner. If the course changed to come within fifty miles of the carrier, Jake’s flight or the flight in area Alpha would be vectored to intercept. They would close the airliner and check visually to ensure that it was what they thought and that it was alone. The fighters would stay well back out of view of the airliner’s cockpit and passenger windows and would follow until told to break off.
Jake yawned and flashed his exterior lights. Then he turned north. Jelly Dolan followed obediently. In a few moments he turned east to permit Toad and Boomer to use their radars to scan the skies toward Lebanon. If any terrorists or fanatics attempted a night aerial strike on the carrier task group, it would more than likely come from the east.
“Nothing, CAG. The sky’s as clean as a virgin’s conscience.”
“How come you’re always talking about women, Toad?”
“Am I?” Feigned shock.
“After three months at sea, I’d think your hormones would have achieved a level of dormancy that allowed your mind to dwell on other subjects.”
“I’m always horny. That’s why they call me Toad. When are we going into port, anyway?”
“Whenever the admiral says.”
“Yessir. But have you got any idea when he might say it?”
“Soon, I hope.” Jake was very much aware of the toll the constant day-and-night flight operations had taken on the ship’s crew and the men of the air wing. He thought about the stresses of constant work, work, work on the men as he guided the Tomcat through the sky.
“We’re approaching the eastern edge of the area,” Toad reminded him.
Jake glanced toward Jelly. The wingman was not there.
“Jelly?”
He looked on the other side. The sky was empty there, too. He rolled the aircraft and looked down. Far below he saw a set of lights.
“Red Ace Two Oh Seven, do you read?”
Jake rolled on his back and pulled the nose down. “Strike, Red Ace Two Oh Five, I’m leaving altitude.” The nose came down twenty degrees and Jake pointed it at the lights. “Jelly, this is CAG. Do you read me, over?”
“He’s going down,” Toad informed him.
“Boomer, talk to me.” Jake had the throttles full forward: 450 knots, now 500, passing 21,000 feet descending. The aircraft below was in a gentle right turn, and Jake hastened to cut the turn short and intercept.
“Red Ace Two Oh Five, Strike. Say your problem.”
“My wingman is apparently in an uncontrolled descent and I can’t raise him on the radio. Am trying to rendezvous. Have you got an emergency squawk?”
“Negative. Keep me advised.”
Now he throttled back and cracked the speed brakes. He was closing rapidly. Passing 15,000 feet. Goddamn, Jelly’s nose was way down. In the darkness Jake found it extremely difficult to judge the closure, and he finally realized he was too fast. He cross-controlled with the speed brakes full out and overshot slightly.
“Thirteen thousand feet,”
Jake slid in on Jelly’s left side as he thumbed the boards in. Toad shone his white flashlight on the front cockpit of the other fighter. The pilot’s helmeted head lolled from side to side. In the back cockpit Boomer also appeared to be unconscious. Both men had their oxygen masks on.
“We’re steepening up, CAG.” Toad said. “Twelve degrees nose down. Fifteen-degree right turn. Passing nine thousand.”
“Jelly, talk to me, you son of a bitch.” No good. “
He crossed under the other plane and locked on the right wing. He moved forward as Toad kept the flashlight on Jelly’s helmet. He flipped the radio channel selector switch to the emergency channel and turned off the scrambler.
“Wake up, Jelly, or you’re going to sleep forever!”
“Six thousand.” Toad’s voice.
“
“Five thousand.”
“
“Four thousand. Fifteen degrees nose down.”
Jake began to pull his nose up. As the descending Tomcat fell away he lost sight of the slumped figures in the cockpit. He rolled into a turn to keep the lights of the descending plane in sight.
“
“Sweet Jesus,” Toad whispered. “They went in.”
“Strike, Red Ace Two Oh Seven just went into the drink. Mark my position and get the angel out here buster.” The “angel” was the rescue helicopter. “Buster” meant to hurry, bust your ass.
“Red Ace, did the crew get out?”
“I doubt it,” Jake Grafton said, and removed his oxygen mask to wipe his face.
“How heavy are the weapons?” El Hakim asked.
“About two hundred kilos,” Colonel Qazi replied.
El Hakim stood in the apartment window and let the warm, dry wind play with the folds in his robe. Already the great summer heat had begun. Here in this retreat deep in the desert he did not wear the military uniform that he was obliged to wear in the capital before the Western diplomatic corps and press. He hated the uniform, but it gave him an air of authority that he felt essential. Soon, very soon, he would burn the uniform. He closed his eyes and faced the rising sun. He could feel it through his eyelids. The power of the sun would soon be his. Praise Allah, he would make the unbelievers kneel.
“So no matter how many weapons are there, we can only take a few.”
“Correct, Excellency. Our goal shall be to obtain six. Even half that many will make us a formidable political force to be reckoned with.”
El Hakim left the window reluctantly and returned to his seat on the carpet. “If you destroy the ship, the Americans will not know for sure how many we have.”
“True, but they will be able to estimate the number with accuracy. Destruction of the ship will merely ensure our escape. The Americans will undoubtedly leap to the proper conclusion without evidence.”
“No doubt.” The dictator snorted. “They have demonstrated their capacity for that aerial feat numerous times in the past.”
“So when the mission is complete, we must inform the world promptly in order to forestall any rash action on the part of the Americans. They are very sensitive to public opinion, even when goaded beyond endurance.”
El Hakim tilted his head back and narrowed his eyes. “The political and military exploitation of your mission is my concern, Colonel, not yours.”
“Of course.” Qazi lowered his gaze respectfully. “But still, Excellency, our mission will be for naught unless the Americans are sufficiently delayed to give us time to escape and alter the weapons.”
“Time? How much time?”
“The Americans have built numerous safety devices into each weapon. That information was part of the
