End Game

“They may think it’s a trick,” said Freeman.

“The Premier is using his own network,” said the President. “When he comes back on, I’ll suggest it.”

“Let’s have the Abner Read broadcast the information in the meantime,” suggested Freeman.

“They’ve just attacked them,” said the President. “They won’t trust them at all.”

“What if Colonel Bastian tried talking to them?” said Jed. “He’s well-known in China because he saved Beijing from the Taiwan renegades and their nuclear weapon. We might be able to have him communicate through the AbnerRead.”

412

DALE BROWN’S DREAMLAND

“See if you can do it,” said the President.

Freeman walked to the NSA screens, looking to see if the Premier issued the order. “What do we do if he calls your bluff, Mr. President?”

“Let’s hope he doesn’t,” said Martindale.

Aboard the Wisconsin,

over the northern Arabian Sea

0711

FACED WITH A MINI-MUTINY, DOG CONCENTRATED ON HIS

course. The fact that his radar wasn’t working was an advantage in a way—it meant there were no aggressive signs from the aircraft. Sooner or later, however, the Chinese would decide he had to be dealt with.

They’d undoubtedly used many of their weapons in the earlier battles. The question was what they had left. If he was just facing ca

Dreamland Command told him he was now thirty miles from the carrier—roughly three minutes flying time.

“All right, crew. This is it. One by one we go out. Mack, you’re first.”

“Colonel—”

“I can’t jump if you guys don’t jump. We’re two minutes from impact. Time to get out. Now! ”

Mack cursed, then Dog heard the pop and whish as he pulled the yellow handles next to his seat.

One by one the others jumped. Jazz was the last. “Colonel, I’ll stay until you’re ready.”

“Out, Jazz. We’re two minutes from target.”

“I know what you’re doing. We don’t have the computer, so you need to stay with the plane to guarantee it’ll go where you want.”

“Go.”

Dog’s voice shook the cockpit. The copilot ejected.

END GAME

413

A J-13 appeared at his side, making hand signals. Dog waved to him.

“Colonel Bastian?” said Jed Barclay on the Dreamland Command line.

“Bastian.”

“Colonel, the Chinese Premier has ordered the carrier to stand down. We want you to relay the order.”

“How?”

“We’re rigging something through the Abner Read. Just start talking.”

Dog pushed the stick down, starting into a plunge toward the carrier. He was too far from the ship to see the planes, but Jed could via the U-2—he wouldn’t be asking him to do this if the planes weren’t ready to take off.

“Colonel?”

Tracers flew in front of him.

“I’ll talk, Jed. But I doubt they’re going to listen.”

Aboard the Deng Xiaoping , in the northern Arabian Sea

0712

CAPTAIN HONGWU WAS SURPRISED BY THE VOICE. IT WAS

deep and calm, sure of itself without being haughty, exactly like the voice he had heard on television after Beijing was saved.

“This is Lieutenant Colonel Tecumseh Bastian of the United States Air Force. I’m going to destroy your vessel unless you stand down the Tai-shan aircraft. The nuclear weapons launched by India have been neutralized. Your government has rescinded your order to attack.”

“I am honored to speak to the man who saved Beijing from disaster,” said Hongwu. “But I must follow my orders.”

“Your government is in the process of issuing the order.

You will receive it shortly.”

414

DALE BROWN’S DREAMLAND

Hongwu turned to his executive officer. “Have we received an order on the encrypted fleet frequency?”

He shook his head.

“A nice trick, Colonel. I am afraid my duty requires me to shoot you down. It is with regret. You saved many of my relatives and friends with your bravery over my country.”

“Then you know I am not a liar or someone who uses tricks. And you also know that you will not be able to shoot me down.”

“The American plane is five miles from us!” warned the executive officer. “He’s coming up the stern.”

“Fire the guns when he is range.”

“Only two are left.”

“Two should be enough.”

“A communication!” shouted the radio officer. “An encrypted communication from Beijing directly!”

Aboard the Wisconsin,

approaching the Deng Xiaoping

0713

DOG COULD FEEL THE MEGAFORTRESS TUCKING HER WINGS

back. He was still too far to see the airplanes on the deck, but he knew about where they would be.

A pair of black clouds rose from the rear of the ship—flak. The bullets rose in an arc and fell away. He thought he could get in between them, though perhaps that was merely an optical illusion.

Tracers danced in front of his windscreen. Then he heard the sick thump-thump-thump of slugs slapping into his right wing.

Dog struggled to hold the plane steady. Without the computer to help trim the aircraft, the Megafortress was a stub-born beast. Once she had her momentum going in a certain direction, she insisted on following through.

Which was just as well in this case.

END GAME

415

More tracers. Then the J-13 zoomed ahead and banked in front of him.

The ship was starting to get bigger. He’d have a fat target now. He could see the antiaircraft fire. It had been fired too early, too desperately.

The ship moved to his right, turning.

To get away?

He pushed on the stick. He was close enough. They were dead.

For a brief, flickering moment Colonel Tecumseh “Dog”

Bastian thought of his daughter Brea

He had them now. He leaned toward the windscreen.

“They’re standing down!” yelled Jed Barclay in his headset. “They’ve pulled the Tai-shan aircraft away from the launchers. They’re turning out of the wind! Colonel—don’t attack them! Don’t attack them!”

Dog pulled back, clearing the carrier deck by three feet.

Aboard the Levitow ,

over the Arabian Sea

0713

THE SIX EJECTION SEATS FIRED ALMOST SIMULTANEOUSLY. THE

long explosion morphed into a howling wind.

Brea

“You ready?” she shouted in his face.

“Hell, no, but let’s do it anyway,” said Zen. He pulled her close, squeezing as tight as he could.

The plane rocked violently.

“We have to go out!” she yelled.

416

DALE BROWN’S DREAMLAND

“Why were you mad at me?”

“Mad?”

“You were mad at me. I didn’t pick it up at first, but then I figured it out.”

“It wasn’t important if I was.”

“Yes.” He held her tight, though she tried to pull away.

“I didn’t want you to give up.”

“Who gave up?”

“Your dream of walking.”

“You want me to walk?” he said.

“I want you to be happy. I want—I do want you to walk,”

she said. He could feel her tears on his cheek. “But I don’t want you to give up fighting. I want you to keep fighting. I don’t want you to give up for me.”

“I didn’t give up,” said Zen.

They looked at each other for an instant, a moment of time but an enternity in every other way.