Satan's Tail

“Yeah? I wouldn’t mind a tour,” said Starship.

“Meet me at the gate at 1400,” said Bandar. “Two p.m.”

Starship hesitated. He was supposed to fly tonight and had been pla

“Two p.m.,” repeated Bandar. “You’ll be there?”

“Sure,” said Starship.

White House

0600

THE CHAIRMAN OF THE JOINT CHIEFS OF STAFF, ADMIRAL

George Balboa, spent much of his time at the White House angry, but Jed Barclay had never heard him quite this angry.

Then again, he’d never heard his boss this angry either.

The walls of the Executive Office Building were practically shaking as the two men shouted at each other. Fortunately, because of the early hour, there were few people in the West Wing to hear them—though given how loud they were shouting, Jed wouldn’t have been surprised to find that they woke half the city.

“You’re trying to create your own private army, Freeman.

That’s what Dreamland is—a private army.”

“That’s baloney and you know it. It’s slander.”

“You tell me what to call a deployment of military units that ignores the normal chain of command. And ignores international law.”

130

DALE BROWN’S DREAMLAND

“I’d like to see proof of that. That aircraft was attacked.

They have proof.”

“Manufactured by them, no doubt.”

“You’re way out of line, Balboa. And for the record, Whiplash has always operated at the President’s specific command—legally, per the law. It’s the President’s prerog-ative as commander in chief to direct units and set their missions.”

“Does the President know about it?”

“Ask him yourself.”

“I damn well will,” said Balboa.

Jed literally threw himself back against the wall as Balboa stormed from the office. Balboa’s face was red, and the admiral’s stubby legs and arms pumped like the rods in an overworked V-8 car motor. Jed held his breath as the admiral passed. Just as he exhaled, Balboa swung around.

“And you,” he shouted at Jed. “You better wake up and smell the coffee here, kid. I thought you had a brain in your head.”

“I have a brain,” snapped Jed.

“You’re a dupe. You better watch yourself, Barclay, or you’re going to end up like Ollie North—if you’re lucky.

More like Dean and Erlichma

He stomped away, disappearing around the corner. Jed walked into Freeman’s suite, where he found his boss picking up files from the floor.

“Sorry about that, Jed,” said Freeman. “The Chairman is a little upset.”

Jed nodded and began to help. “Who’s Dean and Erlichma

“John Dean and John Erlichma

“Oh,” said Jed, sitting in the chair in the corner.

“That’s just Balboa being Balboa. Don’t worry about it.”

“Why would I be like one of those guys?”

SATAN’S TAIL

131

“You’re not. Balboa is throwing his usual smoke. He’s still angry about the strike on China by Brad Elliott and company,” said Freeman. “He’d love to prove that Dreamland was behind it.”

“Dreamland had nothing to do with it,” said Jed.

They were referring to the so-called Fatal Terrain episode, which had been pulled off by a semiprivate group operating on behalf of the Taiwan government—or at least that was the public version. Even Jed wasn’t privy to all the details. But he did know that the Dreamland people weren’t involved. Or at least he thought he did.

“Balboa apparently thinks that Dreamland and Whiplash should be placed back in the military chain of command,” said Freeman. “Or I should say, under his chain of command.”

There had been various plans to bring Dreamland back “online” as a regular command, but the President was ambivalent about doing so. Jed had always believed this was because, as the President had said, he didn’t want to stifle the creativity there. But in light of what Balboa had just said, he had to admit there might be other reasons as well. Lieutenant General Terill Samson had been tapped to head nearby Brad Elliott Air Force Base, which on paper was supposed to have included Dreamland. But Dreamland’s funding line was specifically excluded from the command, and no one in the Air Force—not even the formidable General Samson—had direct authority over Colonel Bastian and his people. Once a Whiplash order designated a mission, Bastian answered only to the President.

Usually through Jed. Which put him in the middle …

maybe in the same place Erlichma

“Among his other goals,” continued Freeman, “Admiral Balboa is angling to have the Dreamland team in the Gulf of Aden placed under Captain Gale. Xray Pop could use help.

There’s no question about that.”

“But that would change their focus from the submarine to the pirates,” said Jed.

“They may end up being the same mission. Balboa is 132

DALE BROWN’S DREAMLAND

claiming the Dreamland people provoked the attack on their aircraft.”

“I heard, but that’s ridiculous. Colonel Bastian wouldn’t do that. Besides, Ethiopia has scrambled planes before.”

“Mmmm.”

Jed could tell that Freeman wasn’t entirely sure. “I can get the mission tapes,” he said.

“No, that’s all right. Like I said, it’s just Balboa being Balboa.” Freeman rose. “It may make sense to have the Megafortresses work with Xray Pop. The only problem is that Gale and Bastian will spend so much time spitting at each other they’ll forget who the enemy is.”

Aboard the Abner Read , Gulf of Aden

1414

THEY WERE EXACTLY FIFTEEN MILES OFFSHORE, DIRECTLY

north of the port where the Dreamland people had tracked the Somalian pirates. Storm had ordered the radars turned on so they knew the Abner Read was there, hoping that would provoke a response. Thus far it hadn’t.

If he wanted to, he could unleash a barrage from his gun and obliterate the town just above the tiny port where the pirates had taken refuge. A dozen shells would erase it.

Two or three hundred years ago, when sails ruled the sea, that’s what they would have done. There’d be no political niceties, no worry about a peace process or the UN.

“Captain, we have two unidentified aircraft approaching from the south at high speed,” said Eyes. “Just popped up over the mountains, coming toward the coast.”

“Very good,” Storm said. “Weapons, track them and prepare to fire.”

SATAN’S TAIL

133

Aboard the Wisconsin , over the Gulf of Aden

1414

ZEN TAPPED THE COMMAND TO SHARE THE VIDEO FEED WITH

Ensign Gloria English, who was operating the Piranha at the other Flighthawk station.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“That, Major, is the future of the Navy. The DD(L)-01

Abner Read. A littoral warfare destroyer. It’s the naval equivalent of a Megafortress, in terms of cutting-edge equipment.

That’s Captain Storm Gale’s flagship.”

“Looks like a Popsicle with a couple of sugar cubes on it.”

“Be interesting to see what it could do in a tangle.”

“Zen, those Ethiopian MiG-23s are continuing north,”

warned Dish, who had been tracking them on radar. “They have activated their attack radars. Looks to me like they’re going to attack the Abner Read.”

“Better warn them. I’m on it,” said Zen, plunging the Flighthawk in their direction.

Aboard the Abner Read , Gulf of Aden

1416

THE EXCITED SHOUTS OVER THE SHIP’S BATTLE CIRCUITS

revved Storm’s heart as he glanced at the graphic rendering of the approaching MiGs in his hologram. The two aircraft were just crossing from the land to the water fifteen miles away, sweeping in their general direction.