Piranha

The Navy pilots didn’t respond.

“You got that, commander?” Dog added.

“Lightning Flight acknowledges transmission,” said the pilot. “With due respect, Colonel, it’s my call.”

“Listen, Captain, at this point, we do not need to escalate. Hold your fire unless the Chinese get aggressive.”

“Just because you have a fancy ol’ plane, doesn’t mean you’re king of the hill,” said the Tomcat jock.

“Set the ECMs to break their missiles if they fire,” Dog told Rosen over the interphone.

“The Chinese?”

“The Tomcats.”

“Yes, sir. Four helos now, coming out from the task force. Hold on here. Got some transmission.” Rosen listened a moment more, then laughed. “The Chinese are demanding we tell them were the Indian sub is.”

“Tell ’em damned if we know. Just like that.”

“Just like that?”

“Verbatim.” Dog switched his radio to the shared frequency again. This time talking to the Orion pilot. They decided to hold off dropping more buoys—no sense helping the Chinese any more than they already had.

In the background, Dog heard a transmission from one of the Tomcats pilots to another group of Navy fighters coming from the south: “Watch out for the cranky AF transport driver.”

Dog didn’t mind being called cranky. The slur on the Megafortress was hard to take, though.

“They’re damned lucky we’re out of Scorpions,” said Rosen, who’d flipped into the circuit just in time to hear the crack. “Show ’em cranky.”

Dog looked to the west at the slowly approaching storm. All things considered, it was probably better they hadn’t launched Piranha; tracking it through the storm would have been difficult.

“Can you get me a weather update?” he asked the copilot.

“Worse and worser,” replied Rosen before proceeding to retrieve the more official version—which used a few more words to say the same thing.

“Plot a course back for the Philippines,” Dog told him. “We’ll let the Navy guys take if from here.”

“Sure you don’t want to shoot down one of the Tomcats before we go?” joked Rosen.

“Very tempting, Captain,” said Dog, starting to track south.

Aboard the trawler Gui in the South China Sea

1715

It happened Chen Lo Fa

It was undoubtedly the first time he had sat on the floor of a cabin since he was young man, and probably the first time he had done so when not playing dice. He could feel the ship here, and through it, the sea, the endless energy of the complicated sea.

Perhaps the information was incorrect or incomplete. He needed more. The Dragon ship was still too far off; he had to rely on his network.

He stared at his map, eyes blurring. The coldness of the ocean seemed to come up through the deck, though he was a good distance from the water.

While his men gathered their information, he could only wait.

Chapter 5

Death in the family

Philippines

August 26, 1997, 0718 local

When Je

It wasn’t just uncomfortable fold-down seat or the turbulent air. She’d spent the entire flight worried about Colonel Bastian; a vague uneasiness, indefinable. It was new to her; she’d never really had anyone to worry about before, not like this. None of her other boyfriends—the term seemed ridiculous applied to Tecumseh, who was anything but a boy—had aroused such emotions. Until Tecumseh—she hated calling him Dog—Je

Outside, the rain had stopped; the wet leaves glistened in the morning light. The base had been taken over by the Navy—there were several large patrol aircraft parked in front of two Megafortresses, along with a pair of F/A-18’s and a blue Navy helicopter. Three or four bulldozers were revving nearby, assisting a construction crew to erect a hangar area.

Colonel Bastian was waiting for Je

“Je