Retribution

Dog got up from the copilot’s station and walked slowly through the Cheli’s flight deck.

“No one comes aboard this aircraft without my explicit permission,” he told the sergeant standing near the ladder to the lower deck. “You understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You noted that all the systems were intact when I left?”

“Uh, yes, sir. OK.”

“It’s OK, Sergeant, they were. You saw them playing, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

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373

It was a long, long walk to the borrowed Navy Hummer, and a short, short ride to the base commander’s office. General Samson had concluded whatever meet and greet operation he’d been conducting and was striding out to his SUV

when Dog arrived.

“General, I need to talk to you,” said Dog, leaning out his window.

“Not now, Bastian. I’m meeting the commander for di

“You’re going to want to talk to me first, General.”

“What about?”

“We’d best go someplace a little more private.”

THE FIRST THING SAMSON THOUGHT WAS, NOW I’VE GOT

him. Bastian wouldn’t be able to wiggle out of this.

The next thing he thought was, What if they blame mesomehow?

The incident with the family in the desert was bad, very bad, but the video vindicated the men, and it could be argued that the Dreamland people were on a mission of mercy.

Whether they should have undertaken it or not was beside the point.

But this was very different.

“You’re sure it was a civilian plane?” Samson asked Bastian.

“Dreamland Command says there’s no doubt. It’s a small airline that flies in northern India. This wasn’t a scheduled flight,” added Dog. “It apparently was some sort of relief plane or charter flying workers north to do electrical repairs.”

“Why the hell wouldn’t they have had a working transponder?”

“I don’t know. We’ve encountered plenty of planes that haven’t. Usually, though, it’s because they’re up to something they shouldn’t be. This might just have been a malfunction.”

“Why the hell wasn’t it visually identified before they fired?” Samson asked. “That’s standard procedure.”

“There wouldn’t have been time to visually check before the Osprey was in danger.”

“That’s their excuse?”

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DALE BROWN’S DREAMLAND

“That’s my assessment. They haven’t offered an excuse.”

“That’s not going to be good enough, Bastian.”

Dog didn’t reply. Samson rubbed his forehead.

There must be some way out of this, he thought. Forget the damage to his career—this was going to make the Air Force look bad. Very, very bad.

“What’s the status of the plane?” snapped Samson.

“I have it under guard.”

“All right. Dismissed.”

“That’s it?”

“Of course that’s not it. But at the moment, Bastian, I don’t want to see your face. And let me make one thing perfectly clear: You have no command. Do you understand? You are not in charge here. You ca

“Loud and clear.”

“Catch the first flight you can back to Dreamland. I’ll deal with you there.”

“Remember what I said about standing up for your people,” said Dog.

“When I want advice from you, I’ll ask for it.”

Aboard the Abner Read

1900

THE ABNER READ’S SICKBAY HAD SOME OF THE MOST MODern medical equipment in the world, crammed into a space that would have made a broom feel crowded. Zen and Brea

Zen had cuts all over his body. Acting on the advice of a doctor aboard the Lincoln, the Abner Read’s medical officer had started him on a course of intravenous antibiotics to combat any infection. Otherwise, his main problem was dehydration.

Brea

375

Lincoln, the Abner Read’s medical officer decided to have her moved to the aircraft carrier, where the larger facilities would make it easier to monitor her condition and operate if necessary.

Brea

“Don’t wake him,” Brea

“A good prescription,” said the doctor.

“I’ll see you later, babe,” Brea

“I HEAR SAMSON’S A REAL PRICK,” SAID JONES AS THEY

waited in the dark.

“I don’t think it matters whether he’s nice to us or not,”

said Liu. “The facts are the facts.”

“I wish I could be as calm as you,” said Blow. He rubbed his hands together; the night had turned chilly. “Look at these arrangements—we gotta fly halfway around the world, land in Germany, catch a plane to D.C., then over to who knows where before we go home.”

“ ’Cause he’s keeping us away from the Navy,” said Jones.

“That might be a good sign.”

“It’s not going to be bad,” said Liu calmly.

“Man, I can still see that baby.” Jones pounded his eyes with his fist. “I can’t stand it.”

“It’ll be OK,” said Liu. He touched the other man’s back.

“The baby’s in heaven.”

No one said anything else until Blow pointed out the Osprey in the sky, its searchlight shining through the darkness.

“That’s ours,” said the sergeant. “Coming for us.”

HE WAS IN THE AIR, TUMBLING AND FALLING. BREANNA WAS

there too, but just out of reach. He kept trying to get her, though, throwing his hands out, grabbing for her.

Then suddenly she stopped. He continued to fall, plummeting toward the sea.

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DALE BROWN’S DREAMLAND

“Brea

The water felt like cement as he hit. His legs were crushed beneath him.

“Brea

He knew where he was, knew they were OK, but whatever part of his consciousness controlled his emotions was stuck back in the frightful dream. When he finally caught his breath, he turned and looked for Brea

The cot was empty.

“Bree!” he shouted. “Brea

He pushed to get up, but couldn’t. There were straps across his chest.

“Brea

“Major Stockard, what’s wrong, what’s wrong?” said a corpsman, ru

“My wife. Where is she?”

“She’s OK, sir. They’ve taken her to the Lincoln.”

“Why?”

“The aircraft carrier, Major. It has better facilities. She’s fine, believe me. They’ve got great doctors. We just want to make sure there’s no bleeding. If there is any, if by any chance they needed to operate, they have the facilities.”

“Why the hell didn’t you wake me up?”

“She said not to.”

Zen dropped his head back on the bed. His whole body felt cold, and bruised.

“Can you undo me?” he asked the man.

“Don’t want you falling out of bed, sir.”

“Just undo me. I’m not going for a walk.”

“Yes, sir.”

Zen pulled his hands free but couldn’t reach the strap over his chest. As soon as he was able, he pushed himself into a sitting position.

“You know what the weird thing is, sailor,” he said as he sat up.

“You can call me Terry, sir.”

“I’m Zen.”

RETRIBUTION

377

The sailor smiled, and pushed a pillow behind his patient’s back.

“The weird thing is that I could swear I actually feel pain in my legs.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I haven’t walked in a couple of years. I don’t feel anything.”

“Doctor said it’s like a normal thing. Phantom pain.”

“Yeah. But I haven’t felt it in years. Sure feels real.”

Zen stared at his legs, then did something he hadn’t done in a long, long time—he tried to make them move.