Beth pressed the button on the handset. “Maintain targeting track,” she said. “But do not do anything else. I’m on my way there.” She jumped off her chair. “TAO, contact Abe and tell them we are tracking two unidentified aircraft heading in their direction and will provide minute-by-minute updates.”

“Aye, ma’am.”

She spun away from her chair and left the ship in her executive officer’s capable hands. As a ship driver, there was no place she would rather be than on the bridge. But as the captain, she knew she was needed in the Combat Information Center, where she would face the greatest challenge of her career.

As she raced through the door, she felt Master Chief’s hulking presence trailing her. “Master Chief, have the Weapons Officer get in touch with China Lake and find out what the fuck is going on. If something doesn’t happen soon, I’ll be forced to engage.”

Her stomach turned at the thought.

48

Santa Cruz Island, California

Punky crested the ridgeline in a combat crouch, counting her breaths as she inhaled slowly through her nose to calm her racing heart. She scanned in both directions along the trail, suddenly unsure which way she should turn to meet the threat. To her left, the trail descended toward the butte where she had crashed Colt’s plane, but to her right, the terrain rose higher to a clearing with what looked like a small utility building supporting the radio antenna that had drawn her to that spot. She turned right.

She walked quickly in a smooth heel-toe motion, deftly placing her feet on the narrow trail as she ascended to the clearing with her pistol held low and ready. Even aided by the night vision goggles, she strained to see into the darkest shadows beyond the glowing tritium night sights while orienting herself to what she had seen from the helicopter. As best she could tell, the ground fell away into narrow valleys on either side, and the ridge continued south from the antenna, sloping gradually to the southern shore.

She could be anywhere.

She reached the structure at the top and darted for it, spinning to place her back against the smooth concrete wall as she scanned north in the direction she had come. Satisfied that she hadn’t yet been spotted, she inched her way to the corner and paused, sticking her head out briefly to take a mental snapshot before quickly pulling it back behind cover. The assessment took less than a second, and she rolled out into the open with her pistol up in front of her.

On the opposite side of the building, she saw an array of solar panels angled up at the sky south of the island, and she sighted in on each one, scanning their shadows for a hidden threat. But the area in every direction appeared clear, and the ridge seemed deserted.

Where are you?

Punky stepped away from the building and crept between the solar panels, listening to the sound of darkness being carried up to her by the wind. Over the pounding of her heart, she heard the distant sound of the Navy helicopter’s rotors echoing across the island, but she heard nothing that gave her a clue as to where Rick’s murderer was hiding.

She dropped low to the ground and counted her breaths, alone with her ghosts.

Devil 2

Navy F-35C

South of Santa Cruz Island, Colt ignored his decreasing fuel quantity and watched his airspeed increase through Mach 1.0 as he gave chase to Jug’s fleeing JSF. He didn’t need to consult his moving map to know the other jet was flying closer to the Abraham Lincoln and that time was running out before it would be in a position to launch its Joint Strike Missiles at the carrier.

“What are you seeing, Jug?” Colt asked while tweaking his radar to maintain a radar lock. So far, his jet’s jammer didn’t seem to be having any effect on the hack, but at least the opening separation between the two aircraft had slowed, then stopped as Colt matched his speed.

“I don’t like this,” he replied with obvious tension dripping from each word.

“I know, buddy, but I’m working on it.” He pulled up the display for the AN/ASQ-239 EW suite to verify he had loaded the program China Lake thought might have a chance at jamming the hack’s waveform. “But you need to tell me if you go into air-to-surface mode, okay?”

“What aren’t you telling me?”

Colt saw the faint blue flame in the distance disappear as the other jet came out of afterburner, and he resisted the temptation to pull back on his own throttle. Without even looking, he knew he wouldn’t have enough gas to make it back to Point Mugu, but fortunately there were still plenty of suitable divert airfields along the Southern California coast.

Closest alligator to the canoe, Colt, he thought, reminding himself to prioritize and execute. He saw the icon for Devil One passing south of San Nicolas Island and decided it was time to share his fears with his friend. “I think whoever is controlling this is going after—”