Rampert thought for a second. That would make sense. Destroy the temporary headquarters of the homeland defense command system and then take on other targets. That would be the perfect first target. It had to be a Predator.
“Thanks.”
Turning to Hobart, Rampert said, “What has Pope got that they can scramble?”
“Nothing. Everything’s over in Afghanistan or Iraq. Langley’s still on its butt. Be another thirty minutes before they can scramble a jet. Tomcat two six is still broke at Oceana. Tomcat one six is all we’ve got left.”
“Are we broke or what?” Rampert said in disgust.
“We do have one option, boss,” Hobart said, looking at him.
Rampert paused, knowing exactly what Hobart was talking about.
“Kill the Queen Bee… destroy Dr. Insect’s software… keep the Predators from communicating,” Rampert said, more to himself than Hobart. He had replayed the scenario in his mind once he had been able to believe it.
The two warriors stared at each other for what seemed an eternity, then Rampert pressed the talk button on his radio.
Jack Rampert said a brief prayer for the Garrett family and any other innocent souls on board the Fong Hou, then spoke into his headset.
“Tomcat one six, this is Delta six,” Rampert said.
“This is Tomcat one six. Go ahead.”
“This is Delta six. We have permission to destroy the Fong Hou container ship. I want you to first destroy the command and control cell in the bridge of the ship. Then I want you to put a Maverick through the bow of the ship where they have been launching those Predators. We don’t necessarily want to sink it, but if that happens, we’ll deal with it.”
“Roger. Understand. Anything further?”
“Negative. Execute.”
Rampert had Mike position them again for front row seats. This time it was to watch the destruction of the Fong Hou. He watched the F-14 circle once and rise into the air. He could see the missile release from its rack and leave a streaming vapor trail as it made its way to the bridge of the ship. Rampert was a soldier and he knew that he had just ordered the sacrifice of good men in the name of the greater cause. But the idea of which cause and for whom left him with the slightest flutter of doubt, an emotion utterly unfamiliar to him.
Despite Rampert’s misgivings, the missile exploded with a brilliant impact, destroying the entire superstructure of the ship. The F-14 screamed overhead as it arched skyward from its first bombing run.
“Roger that,” Hobart said into the headset, applauding the direct hit.
“Roger that,” Rampert repeated in a hushed voice, knowing he had probably just killed some people that didn’t need to die. “Zachary and Matt Garrett are heroes.” He looked at Hobart.
“Heroes often die, sir.”
“We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for them, but we’ve got to destroy this ship and get Tomcat one six on afterburners down to Fort Bragg.”
“Tomcat one six, this is Delta six. Prepare for run number two,” Rampert said.
“Roger. Out.”
Rampert said another small prayer.
CHAPTER 60
Peyton sped the Sherpa along the centerline of the runway, tracers screaming past the fuselage and disappearing into the darkness beyond.
“It’s tough to hit a moving target,” she said under a forced breath, voicing more of a hope than a fact.
“You did pretty well back there with the admiral,” Matt said.
“Yeah, but I’m an expert marksman. Shot expert in basic,” she said.
Bullets were pinging off the Sherpa as they began to gain altitude. Suddenly they felt a shudder and heard an explosion to their rear that ricocheted through the cockpit.
“What the hell was that?” Matt said, hoping they had not elevated too early and hit the roof of the shell.
He looked back and saw the Chinese sailors running from a fireball that had blown off the doors of the stairwell and was seeking the oxygen of the bow opening.
“Fireball moving this way. Step on it, Peyton. Step on it!”
“I’m full throttle,” she said, focused ahead. The plane began to lift again.
“Not yet!” Matt shouted. “We’ve got a roof over our head.”
“Damn it, I’m doing the best I can,” she said, wrestling with the controls.
“Okay, here it comes,” Matt said.
“I’ve got it!”
Matt watched as she pushed forward on the controls to fight the aircraft’s natural tendency to lift at these speeds. As they approached the bow opening, Matt saw the fireball on their tail and then, looking skyward, something that made his heart stop.
“What the hell…?” Matt yelled.
“Don’t say that. We’re almost there,” she said. The Sherpa popped into the clear. Matt watched the incoming missile as Peyton pulled back on the steering column, providing maximum lift to the light airplane at the same time it shot from the elevated bow. The billowing flames reached out for them, licking at the tail of the Sherpa as the Maverick screamed past them at supersonic speed, slamming into the bow of the ship.
Peyton struggled against the turbulence created by the second explosion.
“What was that?” Peyton shouted.
Matt looked to the rear as Peyton fought to keep the Sherpa above the waters of the Chesapeake.
“You don’t want to know. Keep flying this mother,” Matt said.
Peyton stayed low, fighting the airplane, pulling back on the controls and trying to cut the trim at the same time. “Are we okay?”
“I think so. How are your flaps? Flaps okay?” Matt said.
“This piece of junk doesn’t have flaps!” Peyton shouted.
Suddenly she leveled it about thirty feet above the water. Peyton found the right combination of speed, altitude, lift, and pitch, and there it was.
They flew for another few seconds.
“Okay, okay, we’re good to go,” Matt said. “I’m going to put on the headset and try to make comms with somebody, because I’m sure anything that flies will get shot down quickly. Then I’ll check on Zachary.” He cast a glance at his brother, who he could see was breathing, eyes heavy with sedation, barely conscious. Then he looked down at Ballantine, who was a sharp contrast to Zachary.
He was dead.
“Fine, but where do you want me to go?” Peyton asked.
“Head up the Chesapeake Bay to the north. I think we’ve got one more bad guy to get before this thing is over.”
“Hellerman?”
“Right. Hellerman,” he said.
“If you say so, but this could get interesting,” she said.
Matt looked at her. “Get?”
Peyton paused. “Well, I guess, it’s already pretty interesting.”
He put the headset on and began to conduct radio checks.
CHAPTER 61
“Great shot, Tomcat one six,” Rampert said.
“Hey, sir, you see that?” Hobart said, pointing.
Rampert looked where Hobart’s finger was directing his attention. He saw a small airplane just beat Tomcat one six’s Maverick missile into the bow of the ship. They watched the airplane wobble in the wash of the explosion and dive toward the water, then recover and dive again until it finally leveled out.
“That’s Ballantine,” Rampert said.
“Roger that. We can’t let him escape.”
“Radar control, this is Delta six. I need you to track a small white airplane flying low over Chesapeake Bay near the Fong Hou.”
“Wait one.”
“Standing by.”
“Roger, Delta six, we’ve got a small single-engine aircraft doing about 150 miles an hour banking north up the Chesapeake Bay. We will continue to track, but the signal is very weak. If it slows down, we might lose it.”