“I suggest you conclude it within twenty minutes. I will wait,” said the horrible woman as he descended the stairs, Vali in tow.
High Top
0600
ZEN UNHOOKED HIS CHAIR FROM THE ELEVATOR MECHAnism on Quicksilver’s access ladder and began wheeling himself slowly toward the Whiplash HQ trailer. He kept looking for Fentress, dreading seeing him yet knowing he had to talk to him.
But what would he say?
No more time to rehearse—he was standing just outside the Whiplash trailer, nursing a cup of coffee.
“Yo, Fentress, rule number one, don’t break my plane.”
Zen meant it, or wanted to mean it, as a joke, something to break the tension. But Fentress looked down at the ground and seemed nearly ready to cry.
“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Zen said, wheeling over to him. “I’m busting your chops. It wasn’t your fault. Right?”
“Major Alou wanted me to take the mission,” mumbled Fentress.
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DALE BROWN’S DREAMLAND
“You did okay. Really.” Zen knew his words sounded incredibly phony. But what else could he say?
Well, for starters, that he shouldn’t have flown. But like the kid said, that had been Alou’s call.
Alou should have checked with him—a point Zen had already made, though Alou had dismissed it. The kid had done damn well under the circumstances, Alou had argued.
Bullshit, Zen said. He’d been shot down.
Alou hadn’t answered.
Water over the dam now. Zen knew his job was to encourage the kid, get him going.
Kid—why the hell was he thinking of him as a kid?
Guy was pushing thirty, no?
“Come on, Curly,” Zen said, wheeling ahead to the ramp. “Let’s get back on the horse. These things are flown by remote control for a reason, you know?
Could’ve happened to anyone. You did okay.”
Inside, Danny was laying out plans for an operation to hit a laser site in Iran—once they had a good location.
Merce Alou and the others, including Breanna, were nodding as he spoke.
“This’ll work,” Danny said. “I haven’t gone to the colonel with it, and we’ll need CentCom to come along, but it’ll work. Hey, Zen.” He leaned over the table, pointing his long black forefinger toward a lake and mountains in northeastern Iran. “According to what Jennifer figured out, the laser has to be somewhere inside this twenty-five-mile square. Mahabad is just to the north, there’s a major highway right along this corridor. The Dreamland mini-KH covered most of that area yesterday. The resolution’s limited, as you know, but we can ID the major structures.”
Zen pulled over the Iranian map while the others looked at the photos. Using a pen and his fingers as a RAZOR’S EDGE
283
crude compass, he worked an arc from the target square.
“How sure are we of this?” asked Zen. “All of the shoot-downs were within two hundred miles of the edge of your box. Razor’s range is close to three hundred.” Zen slid the map back so the others could see.
“Rubeo says it’s likely this laser isn’t as effective,” said Danny.
“That’s where it was fired from,” said Jennifer. “Where in that area, I don’t know, but it’s there somewhere.”
“Radar?” asked Zen.
“There’s airport-type radar in the vicinity. The laser would be there, or simply wired into it,” said Jennifer.
“I’ve checked with our people—it looks like they’re using barrage firing.”
“Like the Iraqis with their missiles?” asked Zen.
“Except it works,” said Major Alou.
“The way to find out what they’re doing is to hit the site,” said Danny. “You missed this, Zen. There are five possible targets, X’d out on that map. We draw people from the MEU. Two Cobras or more on each possible site. Assault teams follow. The Megafortresses provide intelligence and fuzz the radar, that sort of thing.”
“Air defenses?” asked Zen.
“The Iranians have missiles near all of the sites, though it’s not clear what’s operational and what isn’t. There are three air bases within range to intercept. You know their situation, though—it’s anybody’s guess what they can get off the ground. The one break I see is that the Chinese aren’t this far north, so we don’t have to worry about them.”
“The Marines up for this?” Zen asked.
“I don’t know,” said Danny. “I imagine they will be, but I can’t talk to them until Colonel Bastian gives the word.”
“He has to go to CentCom to get them cleared for the mission,” said Alou. “We can’t just chop them.”
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DALE BROWN’S DREAMLAND
“We have to do a quick hit,” said Danny. “Dr. Ray says it’s possible the thing is mobile and might be moved.”
“So when are we talking to the colonel?” asked Zen.
“Now,” said Alou.
Dreamland Command Center
May 29
2100
“THE PENTAGON LEGAL PEOPLE ARE RAISING HOLY HELL
about taking the prisoner,” said Magnus. “And CentCom’s furious that they weren’t told about the mission.”
“We saw an initiative and we took it,” said Dog, who decided he didn’t want to parse whatever boneheaded argument the lawyers raised. “I stand by both actions.”
“That won’t affect the political reality,” said Magnus.
“And going into Iran will only make it worse.”
“We have to destroy the laser, no matter where it is.”
“Have you been looking at the satellite data?”
“Of course.”
“Then you realize that Saddam is launching an all-out assault on the Kurds in the north. There are rumors he’s loading Scuds with anthrax to fire at the Kuwaitis as well as the Kurds.”
“I don’t put much stock in rumors,” said Dog.
“That’s not the point, Tecumseh. This is becoming an extremely complicated situation—a geopolitical situation. If things escalate, we may need Iranian help.”
“You’re telling me the Iranians are our allies now?”
“I didn’t say that at all.”
“There’s a laser in Iran shooting down our aircraft,”
said Dog. “We can get it.”
“If your data is correct.”
RAZOR’S EDGE
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“Given the number of aircraft that have been shot down, it’s worth the risk.”
“Not if it encourages the Iranians to ally themselves with the Iraqis. And not if it pushes the Chinese to declare war in support of the Iranians.”
“The Chinese are paper tigers,” said Bastian.
“Paper tigers with the world’s third largest army. Think of the impact of a nuclear strike on Saudi oil, Tecumseh.
Talk to your friend Brad Elliott about them.”
“I have the authority under Whiplash to stop whatever is shooting down the planes,” said Dog, making his voice as calm as possible. “That means the laser, and that means going into Iran. Are you withdrawing that authority or reversing the order?”
“You know I can’t do that,” said Magnus.
Only the President could.
“Are you saying that I shouldn’t proceed?”
Magnus stared at the screen but said nothing.
“We have a good plan,” said Dog softly. “All we need is support from CentCom. My people there have outlined a good plan.”
“CentCom doesn’t have authority to engage in ground operations in Iraq, let alone Iran.”
“We have to attack the laser quickly,” said Dog. “My scientists say there’s a good chance it’s mobile or at least can be made mobile. Even if it stays right where it is, no plane flying over northeastern Iraq is safe. Let alone one flying over Iran.”
A thin red streak, so bright it could have been paint, had appeared across Magnus’s forehead. “You know, Dog, you sound more and more like Brad Elliott every fucking day.”
The screen flashed and went blank.
Dog had never heard Magnus use a four letter word before.