Armageddon

It was a risky plan, but the pilot claimed he’d done things twenty times as dangerous when he was flying with the 160th SOAR, the Army’s special operations helicopter regiment. Da

They flew south a mile and a half, then made a wide turn on the side of the jungle where Zen thought Dog was. They dropped low and hovered over the road as the Flighthawk dipped down toward the trees, looking for something to shoot up.

“There,” said Boston. “On the left, your left, just in the ditch near the road.”

“And there,” said Da

DOG WATCHED AS THE HELICOPTER WHIPPED OVER THE ROAD behind them and then started to turn. Before he could get up and run for it, it began firing at the row of trees to the north. The terrorists there answered, one of them firing a rocket-propelled grenade. Dog watched in horror as the grenade flew toward the cockpit of the plane and then seemed to disappear inside it. Fortunately, it had actually sailed to the side, curving like a baseball hit down the line. By the time it exploded in the jungle, the Quick Bird had unleashed a pair of TOW missiles into the tree line.

Lang began firing his M4, and Dog whirled around just in time to see six or seven terrorists throwing themselves down about three hundred yards away to the south. He too began to fire; as he did, something darted down overhead and he heard a roar and a grating sound, the kind of thing a garbage truck might make it if digested a load of steel.

“To the road, to the road,” Lang shouted, pulling him away as another grenade flew through the air. Dog fell backward; bullets flew nearby and he seemed to be breathing dirt.

“Stay down, stay down!” Lang yelled. The Flighthawk roared right overhead, its ca

“The helicopter,” said Dog.

Lang didn’t reply. Dog raised his head, then felt something push it down as a fresh gunfire erupted nearby. Something hot creased the back of his neck.

“Let’s go, let’s go!” yelled Lang, and Dog found himself ru

ZEN SAW THE HELICOPTER DART UPWARD. THREE FIGURES were clinging to the side.

“Clear,” Zen told Brea

“Launching”

The bomb fell from the belly of the Megafortress, sailing on a direct, short dive to the roadway where the terrorists were emptying their assault weapons at the helicopter and Flighthawk. The helicopter managed to clear away before the weapon exploded, but Zen had doubled back to keep the terrorists interested, and the blast of the thousand-pound warhead was so immense that the small plane stuttered momentarily, tossed so severely that Zen thought he’d lose it.

“Good shot,” said Zen finally, back in full control of the plane. “How’s your fuel?” Brea

“Have to tank inside twenty minutes. How’s yours?”

“We’re fine for four or five hours. Let’s escort the helicopter back, then set up a refuel. We may have to head back to the Philippines or to one of the Malaysian airports,” she added. “I don’t know that they’re going to be able to move Indy off the end of the runway any time soon.”

“Roger that,” said Zen, sliding over the Quick Bird.

*   *   *

DANNY PULLED COLONEL BASTIAN INTO THE HELICOPTER and held him as they rushed to get away. He pressed his weight down against Dog’s back as the chopper whipped over the nearby tree tops.

“We’re all right,” said the pilot as the airstrip appeared ahead, but Da

“You look like hell, Colonel,” he told him as he helped the colonel out onto the concrete.

“I feel better than I look, I think,” he said. “You okay, Tommy?”

The SF soldier started to grin—then leaned over and threw up. “My stomach feels like his,” said Dog, taking a step away. “What happened here?”

“Base was hit by a mortar attack,” said Da

Dog recounted how they had been ambushed, and what had happened to the driver. By the time he finished, the Special Forces soldier who had stayed behind had found them. He filled them in on the casualties, which included Major Alou and Kick.

“Why the hell did they try to take off when they were under fire?” said Dog. The cuts on his face had turned deep red. “Da

“I don’t know, Colonel,” said Da

“God damn it. God damn it.”

“It’s lucky for you they did,” said Da

“Losing two of my people is not lucky for me,” said the colonel angrily, stalking toward the hangar bunkers.

Southwestern Brunei, near the Malaysian border

1420

Prince bin Awg waved his hand over the map as he finished his summary of the situation. All over the country, people had shaken off their initial shock and were fighting back against the madmen; there were uprisings throughout the areas held by the terrorists.

That was the good news. Here was the bad: the terrorists were slaughtering many i

“It is a grave, grave sin and evil,” the prince told McKe

The army was already on the move. Two separate columns of armored cars, augmented by pickup trucks and a few private vehicles, were now within ten and fifteen miles of the capital, approaching from different roads. They were being helped by intelligence flowing in from Dreamland’s LADS system, which was fed directly through a video hookup at the sultan’s headquarters.

“Troops should reach Bandar Seri Begawan by nightfall,” said Prince bin Awg.

“By nightfall?” asked McKe

“The people are rising everywhere. We ca

“Well, fuel my plane and let’s get going,” said McKe

She punched her wingman’s arm. “You too, Seyed,” she told him.

“Yes, ma’am,” said Captain Seyed.

McKe

He shook his head. The bullets were the wrong caliber and there was no way to adapt them or the gun so they could be used. “Can we put bombs on, at least?” she asked.

“Bombs, sure. You have four hardpoints.”

“Do it.”

“The MiG is not much of a bomber,” said the prince. The sight on his MiG was an afterthought, added by the Poles after the aircraft had become too antiquated even for them to use as an interceptor. Bin Awg had purchased the plane through an intermediary when the Poles surplused it after years of storage; it was likely the plane had never dropped more than a dozen bombs, and those had all undoubtedly been dummies.