“Really, Colonel, I think you’re pushing the development envelope here:’ said Rubeo.
“Oh, come on, Doc, they’ve passed all the preliminary tests,” said Dog. “They’ll provide round-the-clock coverage without us having to fly a Megafortress twenty-four/seven.”
“If they work.”
There was a knock on the door.
“Come,” said Dog.
“Am I interrupting?” Jennifer asked.
“Hopefully:’ said Rubeo.
“I brought some dinner,” she said.
“Great!” said Danny, helping her with the cooler.
“I didn’t realize it was a party:’ she said. “Or I would have brought more.”
Dog saw the disappointment she was hiding behind her smile.
I’m going to marry her, he thought. If she’ll have me.
“Jennifer, as an uninterested bystander,” said Rubeo, “is LADS ready to be deployed?”
Dog held his tongue.
“I don’t see why not. The technology is all off-the-shelf, with the exception of the airships themselves. Where?”
“Brunei,” said Rubeo.
“When are we leaving?”
“You’re not,” said Dog.
“Why not? I hear it’s a great place.”
“Until a few days ago,” said Danny. “There’s some sort of revolt or religious uprising going on”
Jennifer looked at Dog. Part of him wanted her along. The other part wanted her far from harm’s way.
“LADS isn’t your system,” he told hez.
“Technical people will have to be along,” she said. “Who’s going to supervise the engineering team? Ray?”
“Hardly necessary,” said Rubeo.
Dog looked at her. “We’re deploying tonight. I wasn’t planning on bringing a technical team. Danny’s people have already trained on the equipment.”
“You need a technical team. And maintainers.”
“For blimps?” said Rubeo.
“As a follow-on, sure,” said Dog. “After we assess the situation.”
“It should deploy with the weapons system.” Jennifer crossed her hands in front of her chest, the way she always did when she knew she was right. “And there should be an evaluation team as well, headed by a senior scientist.”
“Probably as a follow-on,” said Dog. “Depending on the situation. It’s volatile.”
“It is,” said Danny, who was munching on a chicken leg.
“We’re setting up camp at an oil platform, Jen. It’s not going to be a picnic.”
“I was in Iraq, remember?”
“We’ll bring the support team in once the situation has been assessed,” said Dog. “And an evaluation team.”
“I’ll be ready to take off in two hours,” said Jennifer, starting to leave.
“You won’t be needed until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest,” said Dog, pulling over the food. “Stay and have some dinner.”
Chapter 40
McKenna took a low pass over the palace compound. She saw a few figures moving near the building, but was moving far too fast to get a good read on what she was seeing.
“Dragon One to control — you have that forward-air-controller down there yet?” she asked as she pulled off. She wanted to get a handle on the ground situation and make sure she didn’t hit any of their own people.
“We’re working on it, Dragon One.”
“Well work harder,” she snapped. She watched her wing-mate come over the palace on the side near the sea. It didn’t appear as if anyone on the ground fired at him.
“Two, I’m going to take a real slow pass back over the dome,” she said. “Hang back and see if anyone fires at me. I want to get this sorted out”
The little Cessna poked her nose down toward the ground, settling down to a brisk walk over the compound at treetop level. This time McKenna saw several knots of men in what looked like white pajamas near the walls. These were obviously the guerillas.
Three bodies in plainclothes lay sprawled near the building. A green British Land Rover sat near the gate on the far side of the compound. McKenna saw a grenade explode near the vehicle. From this altitude, the shock of smoke appeared harmless, though she realized it was anything but. She saw a pair of vans parked on a side street, a large group of men in white near it.
The forward-air-controller finally came on over the police frequency. It was one of the security people who had been with Mack yesterday when he rescued her from the ministry. The man had received training in directing aircraft for attack, but it still took a few exchanges for her to work out where he was and vice versa.
“I’m going to hit those vans,” she told him once it was clear the government troops were not nearby. “Tell the officer in charge there.”
“Yes, yes, he says do it.”
McKenna tipped forward in her seat, pushing against the restraints as the ground flew through the optical sighting panel ahead of her. The wind was minimal, and as she came in from the water side she had a clear run at the vans. Still, the close quarters and her low altitude made the bombing run dangerous as well as complicated; for the first time since she’d arrived she saw tracers arcing in her directions. She hunched her body around the stick, ignoring them, ignoring everything but the slowly changing view and pipper marks in front of her eyes. The vans jerked into her crosshairs and she pickled, loosing all four bombs as she pulled back on the stick. Heavy flak erupted just off her left wing as she climbed. McKenna coaxed the Cessna upward as the air began percolating and rumbling with the exploding shells. She cleared right into the open air and saw her wingmate about a thousand feet above her and a quarter mile to the south.
“Two, where was that flak coming from?”
“Tank mounted weapon,” said the other pilot.
“One of ours?”
“Looks like.”
The weapon was apparently a Brunei army vehicle that had been stolen from its base. A Panhard M3 VDA, the French-built twenty-millimeter cannon had radar guidance but was apparently being operated by sight — otherwise McKenna would have been perforated. The gun was now being used to chew up the area in front of the highway at the entrance to the palace compound; guerillas were moving behind it.
“Two, can you get that gun?” McKenna asked.
“Roger that,” said the copilot.
“I’m going to cover your butt and clean up after your pass,” she added, working the A-37B around.
It had gone better than Sahurah had dared imagine. Besar, though clearly a degenerate, had pulled off the impossible and stolen the self-propelled cannon from under the noses of the army. Their main force was now in control of two of the four sides of the palace perimeter; inside, they were engaged in a battle with forces in the main ministry building. Once they took care of those forces, they could move on to the palace itself, using the roof of the ministry to lay down gunfire.
Two jets danced overhead. Sahurah looked up from his position as one of the planes dropped its bombs on the city-side and the Panhard anti-aircraft gun began firing. He wasn’t sure what the target was; Besar had a command station in that area but from where Sahurah stood he could see nothing.
One of his squad leaders motioned from the corner of the building. Sahurah ducked his head and ran forward, sliding down as he neared the man. The headache that had haunted him yesterday was gone and he had fresh hope — perhaps he would die today and become a martyr.
“Commander, the enemy has a machine-gun inside the building,” said the squad leader.
“Bring up the rocket-propelled grenades,” said Sahurah. Another jet passed overhead. Sahurah flinched, then felt himself flush with shame at his momentary cowardice. Human, perhaps, but a failing before the eyes of God.