Tyler grabbed hold of his suit jacket. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“Careful of the material,” said Fisher. “Five of Sears’ finest squirrels labored to make this suit.”
The captain scowled but let him go.
“Give me the bullhorn,” said Fisher. “Let me talk to them.”
“You can speak Russian?”
“Only the four-letter words.”
Before the soldier carrying the bullhorn could come up, one of the Russians announced in fairly decent English that they were on Russian soil and would be treated as hostile aggressors if they didn’t take off immediately.
“Actually, this is Japanese territory,” Fisher yelled back, still waiting for the bullhorn. “And we’re in pursuit of stolen U.S. property. Which we want back. And also, I’m arresting the people who were flying the plane. Hang on a second, I have to read something to you.”
“You aren’t fucking going to Mirandize them,” said Tyler.
“Got to. Or anything they say won’t hold up,” said Fisher, pulling the small laminated card from his pocket. He took the bullhorn from James, who’d had it in his pack.
“You’re out of your fucking mind,” said James.
“That and I’m having a nicotine fit,” answered the FBI agent, bringing the megaphone to his mouth. “All right. You have the right to remain silent….”
Chapter 19
The combat with the helicopters, the tangle with the patrol boat, and the flyovers to clear the field had all taken their toll on Howe’s fuel. He was now well into reserves, and there was no way he was going to make the task force tanker. A second tanker from Kadena was likewise a good way off.
He was just about to break out a map to see about diverting down to Honshu or northern Japan, when he realized he had his own personal divert strip sitting below him. The three thousand feet was usable, thanks to the F/A-22V’s wing design. With the C-17 off to the side at the far end, Howe figured he’d have no problem stopping before his feet got wet.
Assuming they could secure the field.
The smoke had cleared somewhat; Howe could see a group of men near the Blackjack, and another group about fifty yards from the C-17. A third group was moving down the southern side of the island, possibly seeking to flank the Russians. From what he could see, nobody was firing.
When he failed to reach the SF troops on the frequency they’d been assigned, he went over to the command channel and asked Gorman what was going on.
“They have them pinned down by the aircraft,” she said. “At the moment they’re still trying to size up the situation. We have reinforcements en route.”
“You think I could land there if I had to?”
They discussed the possibilities as he recalculated his fuel. Depending on how he managed it, he had about a half hour in the air.
The two F-15s sent up from Kadena appeared above him. Howe could divert and land — and in fact he absolutely
But somehow it didn’t feel right to turn off. As he circled northward he caught sight of some debris in the water. Timmy’s plane had gone in somewhere nearby.
“Colonel, I can’t tell you what to do with your aircraft,” said Gorman.
Howe started to laugh.
“Thanks, I’ll remember that,” he told her before punching over to the frequency the new arrivals were using so he could brief them.
As the American FBI agent continued to ramble, Luksha signaled to his communications man. The sergeant ran forward with his satellite radio, wheezing from the dust.
“We’ll go down to the boats. Call in the helicopters,” he told him. “Tell them we’ll be pursued.”
“Yes, General.”
Megan heard the jet pass again and knew it was the F/A-22V.
It was him. He’d come for her.
To kill her?
He’d hate her by now. He’d think she was a traitor.
“This way,” said the Russian, grabbing her wrist.
“Wait, I can fly it,” she said. “If we put the fuel in, just enough to get away.”
“Don’t be absurd. They’ll gun us down. Come on.”
“No.” She pushed her shoulders down, as if clamping her arms to the sides of her body would somehow cement her to the spot.
“It is not an option,” said the Russian, and she felt a pair of arms grab her from behind.
“You got that out of your system?” asked Tyler as Fisher finished reading the Miranda warning.
“Hey, the lawyers say you gotta do it.”
Davis, on point, waved. The other team had taken up their position at the end of the runway across from the jet.
“All right, let’s move out,” Tyler told his men. “If that’s okay with you, Fisher.”
“I’m right behind you,” said the FBI agent.
Luksha heard the pop of the smoke canisters behind him. He had decided he would not run: This was, after all, Russian land, disputed or not. Nonetheless, he quickened his pace as his last two soldiers trotted behind him. Up ahead, the men had tied a rope around the American pilot and had begun to lower her down the cliff.
He grabbed the rope. An acrid taste rose from his stomach and burned his chest: He’d been defeated by unlucky circumstance, cheated, and now was being forced to run away with nothing to show for his efforts.
The man to his left slipped on the rocks. Luksha grabbed his arm, pulling him to safety. He saw the fear in the man’s eyes.
He smiled, helping the paratrooper grab on to the rocks.
“Another day,” Luksha said loudly, before starting downward.
Unable to stop herself from swinging because her hands were tied, Megan banged against the rocks so sharply she lost her breath. She wheezed as she reached the sand, collapsing into the shallow water. Someone picked her up and threw her into the boat. Voices screamed above her, people yelling at her.
She thought of the fire and smoke her uncle had flown through.
And if the Russians had the weapon too? What then?
They didn’t, though. They were leaving without it.
The boat rocked. An engine roared, then another. She thought of trying to throw herself out, then felt a sharp pain in the back of her neck as someone stepped on her as he scrambled into the boat.
Luksha did not realize until the boats had started to back away from the island that some of his men had been cut off by the Americans at the end of the runway. But he was committed now; there was no option but to retreat.
He held on to the rail at the side as the small boat began to pick up speed. The woman pilot was crumpled on the floor beside him. Luksha reached over and helped her into the hard-backed seat.
