“Yes sir.”
“There are no qualifications. No ifs, ands, or buts. You pass that on to Overton immediately.”
“Yes, General.”
As soon as she hung up, Pearson touched the PA button.
“General Overton, Colonel Avery to the Command Center.”
She repeated the announcement, then switched to Tac-1. “Delta Green, Alpha Two.”
“Green here,” Dimatta said.
Pearson relayed the warning from Brackman.
McKenna’s voice responded. “Alpha, you have a projected launch time?”
“No. Snake Eyes? Where are you?”
“They’re in my payload bay,” Dimatta said.
“But there’s no passenger module!”
“Like monkeys, hangin’ onto the missile racks,” Munoz said. “Plugged into oxy and commo, sittin’ on the third parachute issued to me tonight. Still, it’s almost better’n the place I grew up.”
NORAD was listening.
Brackman spoke, “Delta Green, Semaphore. What’s your craft status?”
“Up and sailing, Semaphore,” Dimatta replied. “We’re just coming up on Norway at three-eight-thousand. About twenty-eight-hundred out of Hot Country.”
“Weapons status?”
“There, we’ve got a problem, Semaphore. I’ve got six air-to-airs that I’d like to drop in on Peenemünde with, but we can’t fire them. We think we’ve got a chunk of shrapnel in the electronics bay.”
“Alpha Two,” McKenna said, “here’s what you do. Get Embry and Shalbot and have them arm Delta Red with eight air-to-air Wasps and eight Wasps configured for space firing. That’s going to take about forty-five minutes. Put Haggar and Olsen on alert. In fact, have them watch the arming and have Embry brief them on the missiles.”
Overton and Avery arrived in the Command Center as McKenna finished, and in time to hear Brackman interrupt. “That’s not an option, Snake Eyes.”
“That’s the only option I see at the minute, General.” McKenna’s voice had some heat in it.
“Shit.” Pause. “Comply with that, Alpha, but they’re not to launch until I give the word.”
“Roger, Semaphore.” Brackman would be calling the Pentagon now, she thought.
“Then,” McKenna said, “we’ll try to work out a backup option. I need to have someone get in touch with Mabry Evans and have him arm Delta Orange the same way.”
“Delta Orange is not yet flight certified,” Semaphore said.
“Beta One, you listening to this?” McKenna asked.
“Right here, Snake Eyes,” Brad Mitchell said.
“Run it down for me.”
“Beta Two’s pulling the data up now. Okay, Delta Orange. All flight systems have checked out, including communications, navigation, and computer systems. None of it has been flight tested. We don’t yet have weapons guidance linkage systems completed. The rocket motors have not been tested. At all.”
“Would you fly it?” McKenna asked.
“Hell, no. Well, maybe. This is the fifth one we’ve done, Snake Eyes. We’ve gained experience, and we’ve had few glitches.”
“Hell, compadres, I don’t need guidance systems. I’ve got a steady hand,” Munoz asserted.
“Fuel it up and arm it,” McKenna said. “Cancha’s going to put this thing in overdrive, and we’ll be touching down in an hour.”
No one said anything. Overton shook his head.
Pearson thought about all of the things that could go wrong. Especially with untested systems.
After a long silence, Semaphore finally said, “Consider it done, Snake Eyes.”
“One more thing,” McKenna said, “Delta Orange is now Delta Blue.”
When the payload bay doors opened, McKenna and Munoz climbed down from the missile racks and dropped to the tarmac. It was hot as hell, dry heat attacking McKenna’s face as soon as he had the helmet off. The heat felt good after the freezing temperatures at high altitude. The battery pack for his suit heater was fully depleted. His right knee hurt, probably the aftermath of one of the jumps tonight, and his back was stiff from sitting on the bay doors.
Ducking out from under the MakoShark, McKenna walked forward along the right side of the fuselage and looked up until he found the hole. Not very big, maybe six inches in diameter, it was located right in the center of the electronics compartment.
They weren’t going to turn Delta Green around and send it out again.
Dimatta came around the nose and joined him.
“Shit,” he said.
“Sorry about that, Frank.”
“I can take Delta Orange.”
“Not anymore,” McKenna said. “She’s Delta Blue now.”
The newest MakoShark had been shoved to the front of the hangar, and fifteen people surrounded it, finalizing its preflight checks. The banks of overhead fluorescent were bright after a couple hours in the payload bay.
Munoz said, “I’m gonna find a head, then climb in.”
“Lead the way, Tony.”
When they came back from the men’s room, they climbed the ladders, slid over the coaming, and settled into their new cockpits. Everything smelled pristine, with just a taste of electronic burn-in and JP-7 fuel.
“Delta Blue, Delta Red.”
McKenna pulled his helmet in place and plugged in. “Go ahead, Country Girl.”
“I’m two minutes from blackout. Do I stay space side or go in?”
Since giving the approval for Delta Red’s launch, Semaphore had stayed out of it. It was McKenna’s squadron.
McKenna checked the chronometer: 0218 hours.
“Tiger?”
“Last reports say it’s still sittin’ on the pad,” Munoz said.
“Bring it in, Country Girl. It’ll be easier if you can catch it on the ground. Swede, if it’s still down by the time you get there, put a couple into the third stage. If it’s airborne, and you can reach it, use heat seekers.”
“Roger, Snake Eyes,” Olsen said.
“Delta Red going black.”
On the intercom, Munoz said, “Risky, isn’t it? Maybe we should have her hang around close to Themis? Wait until the rocket gets there?”
“I thought about it, Tony. But the brass haven’t let me give them enough practice time. If it’s on the move, it’s going to be tough to hit. I’d rather give them a sitting target.”
“Gotcha, amigo.”
Munoz put the flight checklist up on the rearview screen, and McKenna ran through it while Munoz double-checked all of his new electronics.
The tractor towed them outside, and he fired the turbojets. They had been broken in on the test stands, and they ignited right away. The tach readouts on the HUD were right on the money for idle.
“Jack Andrews Control. Clear skies all around, Delta Blue. No other aircraft, no clouds, no wind. Typically Chad.”
“Thanks, Control. We’re off.”
He released the brakes, and the MakoShark began to roll. After a short sprint down the taxiway, McKenna turned into the center of the runway. He locked the brakes and ran the engines up.
Good readings all the way. He brightened the HUD, turned down the air conditioning, checked the frequency settings on the radios.
“Tiger?”
“I’m as green as I’m gonna be this trip, jefe. So far, so good.”
Tac-1 sounded off. “Alpha One, Delta Red.”
“Go Red,” Overton said.
“On path at two-three-eight thousand, Mach twelve-point-nine.”
“Copy.”
“Rocket status?”
“Still on the ground, Red,” Overton told her.
“We’re commencing flight plan for Peenemünde. Delta Red out.”
“Punch it, Snake Eyes,” Munoz said.
“Punched.”
He released the brakes and slapped the throttles forward. The MakoShark leaped forward for her maiden flight. Eagerly, he thought.