Hartwell lowered his eyes and took a few seconds to form his words. "We're going to pursue the drone operation first. If we aren't successful in uncovering the truth about this phenomenon — whatever it is — then I have another suggestion. Actually, it's the president's idea."
"Would you care to share it with us?" Jackie asked.
Prost looked at Sullivan without meeting her eyes. "I really don't want to get into it until we've completed the drone operation." She suppressed a response.
"What's the status on the op?" Dalton prompted.
"Three of the Phantoms are on San Nicolas Island, and the carrier is operating off the southern California coast."
"Are they flying at night?"
"Not yet — only the Hawkeye will be launched at night until we see what happens with the drone."
"What about the Harriers and recon assets?" Jackie asked.
"The Harriers have arrived at Miramar. Our intel spacecraft and recon planes are ready, and we're sitting on go for tomorrow night."
Hartwell had an afterthought. "We're also tracking a number of Chinese ships due to arrive or depart Los Angeles, Long Beach, and Oakland."
Jackie looked through her collection of notes. "Are any of them the ones you mentioned before?"
"No, but we're closely watching two cargo ships that have had some strange itineraries, including one Russian ship, the Kapitan Zhirnovsky, which is crewed entirely by Chinese sailors. The other ship in question is the Chen Ziyang."
"Interesting," Scott said. "Where are the ships?"
"The Kapitan Zhirnovsky is in Los Angeles and the Chen Ziyang is docked in Long Beach."
Scott wrote a note. "When are they scheduled to sail?"
"According to the voyage itineraries, both ships are departing tomorrow — within an hour of each other."
"Do you know their destinations?"
Hartwell nodded and read the itineraries. "Chen Ziyangis going to Papeete and the Kapitan Zhirnovsky is bound for Rarotonga."
Jackie raised an eyebrow. "If my calculations are right, that would place them on a course near the carrier."
"That's why we're watching them very closely. We can't prove that Beijing is getting classified information, but it seems too coincidental that the ships are scheduled to leave the day we plan to conduct flight operations near the carrier."
Scott and Jackie eyed each other.
"Well, duty calls." Hartwell rose, signaling the end of the brief. "Sorry to rush, but I have a full day ahead. I'll see you in Miramar tomorrow afternoon for a complete update before you launch."
"Yes, sir," Scott said, and shook hands.
He and Jackie gathered their notes and retraced their route to the forward exit of the VIP aircraft.
The SEAL squad waited until Jackie and Scott boarded the Lear, then climbed into the jet and secured the door.
Now in the left seat, Jackie started the engines while Scott listened to the ATIS and contacted clearance delivery. They watched Prost's air force transport taxi for takeoff while Scott copied and read back their instrument clearance to Miramar.
After Scott received permission from DEN ground control, Jackie added power to taxi the Learjet from Signature Flight Support to the active runway. As she maneuvered the airplane onto the taxiway, Master Chief Slocum looked out the window and did a double take.
"Stop the plane," Slocum shouted as he sprang toward the door. "Stop the friggin' plane, now!"
Jackie immediately applied the brakes while Scott swung around to face the frowning SEAL leader. Slocum tossed Dalton a compact submachine gun and turned back to the window.
"Skipper, we got us a big-time problem."
"What's up?"
Scott quickly climbed out of the cockpit.
"Lookit." Slocum was aggressively pointing to the window. "See that pearl-colored van over there?"
"Yes."
"The same van was at the other airport, and the side door has been removed from that bugger."
Scott studied the suspicious van for a few seconds. "Yeah, something doesn't look right — it's out of place."
"Oh, shit!" Slocum barked, reaching for the door. "Let's go! Move it! Move out! Go-go-go!"
Following Slocum, the SEAL squad vaulted out of the airplane and sprawled on the taxiway. A Ford Econoline van rapidly accelerated toward the tail of the stopped Learjet.
Scott turned to Jackie. "Get the plane out of here! Go — firewall it!"
"Get out," she shouted. Fueled by a sense of danger, Jackie shoved the throttles forward. "Jump!"
Scott leapt out of the plane and dropped to a prone position on the hot taxiway. The searing jet blast almost lifted Dalton and the SEAL squad off the ground as they scrambled to take their positions.
As the van rapidly gained speed, a man who was braced against the seat by the door opened fire with an automatic weapon. The SEALs and Scott poured a steady stream of fire into the front of the van, shattering the windshield and headlights, and riddling the hood and engine compartment. Dense black smoke poured out of the engine. The van continued to accelerate toward the SEALs and the tail of the taxiing Learjet.
"Move out," Slocum yelled at the top of his lungs.
Scott and one of the SEALs jumped to their feet and ran toward the right side of the taxiway, while Slocum and the other two SEALS ran to the left. They continued to pour fire into the van. The man in the open door went limp, dropped his weapon, and then fell out headfirst.
"Got him," someone yelled above the earsplitting clamor of gunfire.
Scott and the SEALs stopped shooting as the van passed between the opposing fire teams, then they opened up again. The van swerved to the right, then back to the left. Although the windows of the van were blown out and the vehicle was trailing thick black smoke, it was still accelerating.
Horrified to see the van catching the Learjet, Scott took careful aim and squeezed off three rounds at the back of the driver's head.
The van swerved to the left side of the taxiway, abruptly lurched to the right, missed the tail of the jet by inches, then departed the taxiway and flipped over on its left side. Less than two seconds later, the demolished van exploded in a huge, thunderous fireball that shot a hundred feet into the air.
Slocum and Dalton raced toward the burning van. The SEALs quickly checked the immediate area for other threats.
"Lear November Niner-Six-Zero Bravo Lima," the tower controller said, "you can slow down — you can stop now — it's over."
"Sixty Bravo Lima." Jackie's voice was two octaves higher than normal. "What the hell is going on?" she asked, bringing the Learjet to a smooth stop in the middle of the taxiway.
"Perhaps you can tell us, ma'am," the controller said in a flat, stiff voice. "We're rolling the emergency equipment at this time."
Jackie keyed the radio and paused. "Sixty Bravo Lima, request permission to shut down here."
"That would be just fine with us — perfect."
"Bravo Lima."
Slocum ran toward the van while Scott covered him.
"I'll be a sonuvabitch!" Slocum cautiously approached the burning vehicle and noticed some of the spilled contents. "This was a damn four-wheeled Molotov cocktail, big time."
"I noticed." Dalton slowed to a walk when he heard sirens in the distance. "A suicide bomber."
"This friggin' thing is plum full of gas cans." Slocum kicked one of the burning containers out of the way. "This here was your basic rolling bomb — a thousand-pounder with wheels."
Feeling the intense heat from the blazing van, Scott stopped to catch his breath. He turned to the SEAL leader. "From all the black smoke, it looked more like a Scud missile."
A slight smile crossed Slocum's rugged face. "Well, this here Scudmobile ain't gonna be makin' no more trips under its own power."
The other SEALs, one of whom had a minor flesh wound, ran to the burning hulk and surrounded Slocum while he checked the van more closely. A few seconds later, the SEAL leader approached Scott.