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“Dreamland team is under fire at their site,” she told him.

Danny didn’t respond. Jennifer suddenly felt foolish for giving him the useless information; all she was doing was sharing her anxiety.

“I’m sending a blimp for observation,” she added. “They’ve called local support”

“Understood,” said Danny finally. “Keep me informed.”

“Roger that.”

Chapter 81

Malaysian air base
1232

Zen cursed the wheelchair, cursed the Brunei kingdom, cursed the Malaysians, cursed the Islamic madmen, and cursed his no-good legs as he pushed himself along the cement as fast as he could go toward the EB-52, determined to help get it in the air. The short field — and certainly the situation — demanded that the Flighthawks be used as boosters, helping the plane rocket off the runway.

The ground shook as a shell landed about a hundred yards away.

Shit, he thought to himself. This is crazy. But he pushed harder, determined to get the big planes off the ground.

And then launch the Flighthawks to pound the daylights out of whoever was firing at them.

Zen felt the veins in his face and chest straining as he wheeled onto the roadway. A geyser burst somewhere behind him, close enough to throw dust against the back of his head.

Something grabbed the back of his wheelchair and he felt himself jetting forward.

“Hey, Major, figured you wouldn’t mind a push,” yelled Starship in his ear.

“I’m in Penn,” shouted Zen. “See if you can get into Indy. They need the assist off the Flighthawks.”

“Yes, sir.”

If Starship thought it was crazy to try and take off under such circumstances, he kept his opinion to himself. Zen twisted around. “Where’s Kick?”

“I think he’s already aboard with Major Alou, there,” shouted Starship.

Another shell landed, this one in the jungle to the left. The Air Force Special Tactics people started yelling as they hustled to the aircraft. Zen couldn’t hear what they were saying though it wasn’t particularly hard to guess.

“You can let go,” Zen told Starship as Penn’s engines kicked to life. “I’ll take it from here”

“Talk to you upstairs,” said the lieutenant, giving him a push and then hustling for Indy, whose engines also wound into action.

Zen had to twist the wheelchair around and back into the ladder, which had a special clamp for his chair. He hooked the metal into the side, then looked down to make sure the wheels were locked. Set, he arched his back and shoved hard, as if trying to pop a wheelie. The abrupt pressure activated a micro-switch, which turned the ladder into a primitive elevator, hoisting Zen up. As he lifted up, yet another shell landed, this one on the runway; the wheelchair abruptly stopped, sagging against the metal pipe that held it.

“Come on, damn it,” cursed Zen. He leaned backward, trying to see how far he was from the hold. Just as he had concluded he was going to have to twist around and drag himself up the stinking ladder and into the ship, the chairlift caught again and he moved up into the hold.

Hell of a time to be a cripple, he thought.

* * *

Breanna brought all four engines up in quick succession. The screens flew by on the glass cockpit wall, the indicators flashing green as the computer ran through its system checks. She’d grabbed a helmet from the rack at the back of the flightdeck, and pulled it on, connecting into the communications system. But she hadn’t had time for the rest of the flight gear.

“Override checklist,” she told the computer.

The screen beeped at her, telling her the override was not allowed.

“Override, authorization BreeOne”

“OVERRIDDEN!” flashed on the screen.

“Who’s with me?” she said over the com system.

“You and me, kid,” said Zen from below. “I need power to the Flighthawks if you want to get out of here.”

“Take too long,” she said. “I’ll jettison them and run down to the other end of the field.”

“All I need is sixty seconds,” said Zen. “And you’ll have enough thrust to take off from here.”

A shell landed close enough to rock the plane. “Do it in thirty,” she said, pounding the command sequence on the screen that authorized the Flighthawks’ engine ignition while they were still on the wings.

“I’m on it.”

* * *

Starship found Kick already running through the Flighthawk checklists with the computer when he reached his station.

“Hey!” he yelled, sliding into his seat.

“Hey,” said Kick. “Major Alou wants a quick start — he’s got the engines up. Flighthawks are cycling.”

“Yeah, no shit,” said Starship.

“We have to give him a thirty-second burn on his signal,” said Kick. “Zen says just ramp it up and hold on. As long as we go together, we’ll get up in a shot.”

“Zen would know,” said Starship.

The airplane bucked as something landed nearby.

Hope we get the hell out here quick, Starship thought.

“Yeah, me, too,” said Kick over the interphone.

Chapter 82

North of Meruta, Malaysia
1232

Dog could see the three men who had them pinned down. They formed a semicircle in the jungle; they’d crossed the road and moved in about ten yards.

“We pick the weak link on one of the flanks, and take him out,” said Lang. He’d torn a piece of his uniform off and tied it around his leg, which had been cut pretty badly.

“What if they have other people on the flank, watching their backs?” asked Dog.

“We deal with that when it happens.” Lang winced as he shifted his weight. “Can you do this?”

“Yeah, I can do it.”

The sergeant handed him one of the M4s.

“You better show me how to get it to fire,” said Dog. “I couldn’t before.”

Lang took the gun back and slid his thumb against the selector on the side above the trigger area. The weapon had been safed. As he watched him Dog realized he hadn’t even thought of checking.

“Brace yourself as best you can when you fire. You get three shot bursts,” said Lang, handing the weapon back. “You’ll probably tend to fire too high. Keep that in mind”

“I will.”

“We’re going to go after the guy on this side,” said the sergeant, gesturing to the left, “because if we get past him, we’re clear back to the village.”

“Okay,” said Dog. “Hold on a second, Sergeant,” he added as the soldier started to the left.

Lang gave him an intense stare.

“I’m sorry, but I forgot your first name”

“Tommy,” said the sergeant, scowling.

“Sorry I forgot. I’m Dog.”

“Yeah, I know, Colonel. Let’s do it, okay?”

Chapter 83

Brunei International Airport
1232

Danny leaned forward in his seat in the helicopter as they settled into a hover a little less than a thousand yards from the Megafortress. The terrorists who had driven the tanker in from the city got out of the cab.

“They’re going to shoot at us,” he said calmly as the pilot stabilized the aircraft.

“Firing,” said the pilot.

A TOW missile leapt from the side of the small chopper. The six-inch warhead hit the right stabilizer at the rear of the aircraft, carrying through the structure and exploding next to the left fin. A second missile, fired at the rear section of the plane, struck a few seconds later, obliterating the back portion of the aircraft.