Dreamland

“No,” said Brea

“Bay,” said Chris. “No, wait. No. They’re in the hangar. I can’t tell whether it’s concrete or not. I don’t think so. I don’t have a target point.”

Brea

“I can’t be sure what that hangar’s made of,” said Chris. “It looks like it’s cement-reinforced.”

“Can you fly the JSOW into the hangar?”

“Maybe,” said her copilot. “The angle’s tough. I can hit it, but the missiles might not penetrate. I don’t know what’s inside, whether it’s all on the surface or if it’s like Dreamland’s hangars, with ramps and elevators.”

“That’s unlikely.”

“Yeah. But what do you figure the odds are our guys are with the plane?”

Instead of answering, Brea

They might never have a chance like this again. If the wrecked plane was there, odds were their men were too.

On the other hand, there was no telling what sort of defenses the Iranians and Somalians had waiting.

Her instinct said go for it. She clicked the transmit button.

“Vector leader, here’s our situation,” she said, laying it out.

“We’re en route,” snapped the Delta commander. He patched in the pilots as Brea

“We’ll take out the Zeus as you come in,” Brea

“We’ll hit it, take out the plane, and look for our guys.”

“Roger that.”

“ETA five minutes,” said the lead pilot. The two Ospreys were rushing through the mountain passes, heading for their target. “We’re going silent com.”

“Fort Two,” acknowledged Bree. She turned toward her copilot. “Hold one missile in reserve for the hangar if they can’t reach it.”

“Yeah. That’s what I was thinking.” Chris nodded, then sighed so loud her earphones practically shattered. He sounded like a horse that had just lost its chance to run in the Derby. “Listen, I’m sorry about that emotion thing I said. I didn’t mean it.”

“We’re both tired,” she said, worried that his crack had been all too true.

Northern Somalia

23 October, 0445

THE OSPREY WHEELED OUT OF THE HILLS JUST AS THE big antiaircraft gun at the edge of the base exploded. Skipping forward, the MHV-22 plopped herself down a few feet from the DC-8 at the edge of the ramp. Da

“Fuel truck! Fuel truck!” Liu yelled behind him. Da

“Don’t blow it! Don’t blow it!” Freah yelled. They were tasked with searching the plane before destroying it, in case the pilots and Marines were aboard already.

“Somebody in the cockpit!” shouted Hernandez.

Gunfire erupted to his right, a short burst of automatic fire. Da

There was a boarding ladder near the fuselage of the DC-8 less than twenty yards away. The door was open and there didn’t appear to be any soldiers or guards between them and the aircraft.

“On the plane! On the plane!” screamed Da

His men didn’t need to be reminded of such basic procedures, but Da

“We’re clean! We’re clean!” Talcom was yelling. “Somebody’s in the cockpit!”

Da

He took the concussion grenade from his pocket, held it up so the others could see.

Talcom gave him a thumbs-up. Freah pulled the pin and rolled the grenade under the curtain. In the next moment his men at the front fired off the lock on the cockpit door. Da

No one was there. A cargo compartment lay beyond the galley. He tried the door, found it locked. He stood back, fired at the recessed handle. It still wouldn’t budge. He threw himself against it, his flashlight slipping from his hand and clanking so loudly against the counter that for a split second he thought it was a gunfire.

“Captain! Captain!” yelled Hernandez.

Da

“Guy’s the pilot. They were just ready to take off, I think,” said Hernandez. “Head’s scrambled or maybe I just can’t understand what the hell he’s saying.”

“APC coming up from the other end of the base,” added Talcom. “Egg’s holding him off.”

Freah grabbed the pilot. “Where are our men?”

The man shook his head as if he didn’t understand. Freah tightened his grip and pushed him against the seat. “My people!” he demanded.

The man said something unintelligible.

“Captain, our grenade probably beat shit out of his eardrums,” said Powder. “Even if he understands English, he probably can’t hear. Sucker’s lucky he wasn’t killed.” The plane rocked with a fresh explosion.

“That APC’s going to nail us, whether they’re aiming to or not,” yelled Hernandez from the doorway.

A moment later the front of the plane exploded.

Northern Somalia

23 October, 0445

THE FOUR-BARRELED ZSU-23 VAPORIZED AS THE warhead of the JSOW exploded. Flames lit the night as Brea

“Vector aircraft are in. They’re at the hangar and on the airliner,” said Chris, who was monitoring the radio transmissions as well as sca

“Patrol boat?”

“I have it designated. We can take it out at will. Machine-gun fire on the north side of the base. I think they’re shooting at us. No SAMs. No radar.”

Brea

Why did she care? Why had Jeff accused her of having an affair with him?

“Bree?”

“Take it out,” she snapped, her unconscious alerting her to the fact that the patrol boat had snapped on a sca