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DOG HAD SEEN EVERYTHING ON THE SITREP. SULLIVAN HAD
done a hell of a job, but he sounded as if he was ready to bang his head into the bulkhead because the Megafortress couldn’t do the impossible. He was holding the plane—and more important, himself—to an impossible standard.
Same thing I would have done to myself, he thought.
And it would have been just as unfair.
Sullivan had done an incredible job, no matter what scale he was measured against.
It was difficult to be objective when you were used to pushing yourself. High standards were important when so many lives were at stake, but you couldn’t let that blind you to your actual achievements.
And that was true of the medal, he realized. He deserved it, not just because it symbolized the efforts of the people around him, but because he had earned it.
“You did fine, Sully,” Dog told the pilot. “You did fine.
One of the other planes will take him.”
White House Situation Room
1530 (0130 Romania)
“TH- TH- THERE’S NO QUESTION ABOUT IT, MR. PRESIDENT,”
said Jed. “Those are Russian planes, on a deliberate mission REVOLUTION
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to attack the gas pipelines. It—It’s the third wave of attacks against Romania.”
“Enough is enough,” said Martindale. He walked over to the desk ma
It was the so-called hotline to the Kremlin.
“Sir, I have to punch in an authorization code for the call to work,” said the duty officer.
“Do it,” said Martindale. “Either these attacks stop here or I’m going to launch an immediate counterattack on every Russian air base east of the Urals.”
Aboard Dreamland B-1B/L Boomer,
over northeastern Romania
0145
“LASER CYCLING!” SAID BREANNA.
“Roger!” said Samson.
“Engaging.”
The beam of energy from Boomer’s belly drilled a small hole in the right wing of the MiG; as the metal disintegrated, fumes in the tank ignited and the wing imploded. The rest of the MiG crumpled into very expensive scrap metal.
“Splash Bandit Fifteen, ” said Brea
“Perfecta, Captain. Damn good show.”
“You weren’t too bad yourself, Earthmover.” Brea
“The hell with the record,” said Samson. “I’d like to see Congress veto our funding now.”
The situation was looking good. Da
454
DALE BROWN’S DREAMLAND
“Be
The images blurred, snapped into focus, then blurred and came back.
“Bandit Three is through,” said Brea
“Stand by, Stockard. We’re going to catch that son of a bitch. And you better acknowledge that with a strong voice.”
“Kick ass, Earthmover,” she said, bracing herself as Samson torched the afterburners.
Presidential villa,
near Stulpicani, Romania
0150
GENERAL LOCUSTA COULDN’T BELIEVE WHAT HE WAS HEARING.
“They’re continuing to search,” said the major. “But they think the flying man may have take President Voda away.”
“A flying man?”
The major shook his head.
It was too much for Locusta. “I’m going to corps headquarters, then to Bucharest.”
“But the President—”
“The hell with him. We’re too deep to pull back down,”
said Locusta. “The coup will proceed as pla
“General, I don’t think if he is alive we will succeed.”
“Then call me when you’ve killed him,” Locusta said, stalking to his car.
Near Stulpicani, Romania
0150
VODA HUGGED HIS WIFE AND JULIAN. BOTH WERE SOBBING.
Someone had thrown a blanket over him; someone else REVOLUTION
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handed him a plastic packet that produced heat when he grabbed it. The Osprey circled westward, climbing away from the gunfire.
He knew this was far from over. He had to pull himself up, ignore the smell of vomit on his clothes, ignore the throbbing pain in his leg, and regain control of his country. Now that his family was safe, his duty was clearly to Romania.
“I love you, Julian,” he told his son, kissing his head. “And you, Mircea.”
They grabbed him, but he pushed them away, rising to his feet.
“I need a phone,” he told the Americans. “I need some way of communicating with my people.”
ZEN SAT ON THE FABRIC BENCH ACROSS FROM THE ROMA-nian president, nursing a cup of coffee as Voda got to his feet.
In barely the blink of an eye Voda seemed to have changed.
He no longer had the look of a hunted animal. There was something deeper in his eye, something determined.
“You can talk to anyone you want,” said Da
“Good,” said Voda. “We begin by calling the television stations, to let them know I am alive.”
Voda looked out the window. He could tell from the moon and the highway they passed that they were heading south.
He turned to Da
“Is it possible to go over the troops that have surrounded my house?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Can you get a loudspeaker?”
“The Osprey is equipped with one but—”
“They have to be told that I’m alive. I want to see what their reaction is. Are they for me? Or against me? Are they for a free Romania, or a captive one?”
456
DALE BROWN’S DREAMLAND
“No way, sir. I just can’t go along with it. They have antiair guns in some spots on the road. Even for us—”
“I believe the soldiers will drop their arms when they hear me. And if not,” added Voda, “then I need to know what I’m up against.”
“Yeah, but we’re not committing suicide.”
“If you’re just looking to test the reactions,” said Zen,
“maybe we can overfly some troop trucks farther along in the valley.”
“Troops on the outskirts of the action will be acceptable,”
said Voda.
Da
“Are you here to help me?” Voda asked sharply. “Or am I your prisoner?”
“You’re not my prisoner,” said Da
“Who are you to judge me? You’re a captain. I am a president.”
“There’s plenty of troops stopped along the highway, Da
“I’ll give the order to the pilot myself,” said Voda, starting forward shakily.
“Zen, this is nuts,” said Da
“Hey, if the army’s not going to back him, he’s screwed anyway. He might as well find out now.”
“He’s already screwed. They were trying to kill him on the hill. This is going to get us shot down.”
“Not if we pick the right place.”
“No way.” Da
“I can pull rank,” said Zen.
“I’m calling Samson.”
“That’s an option.”
Da
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Aboard Dreamland B-1B/L Boomer,
over northeastern Romania
0155
TERRILL “EARTHMOVER” SAMSON HAD FLOWN B-1BS FOR
a long time, but he’d never flown one like he flew Boomer. He’d never flown any plane like he flew Boomer— throttle mashed against the last stop on the assembly, wings pi