“It gets worse,” she continued. “That satellite acted as a relay to re-broadcast the information.”

“To where?”

“Somewhere in the Channel Islands.”

37

Colt just stared at Punky and let the implication sink in, still trying to process the bombshell she had dropped on them. He had come to accept that what had happened to his jet the night before was no mere fluke but an act of overt sabotage. And it worried him to know that the Chinese weren’t done meddling with the Joint Strike Fighter.

“So, what now?” Jug finally asked, breaking the trio’s silence.

Punky turned and made eye contact with Colt. He knew she had her sights set on the woman who had killed Rick, and nothing was going to dissuade her from exacting vengeance on the Chinese operative. The only problem was that neither of them knew where she was, and even if they did, they couldn’t ignore the bigger threat while seeking revenge. Colt broke her gaze and turned to Jug.

“What time is your test?”

Jug looked at this watch. “They should be loading the ordnance now.”

“What’s the load out?”

“Two AIM-120D AMRAAM and two Joint Strike Missiles,” Jug replied.

Colt cocked his head to the side, wondering why they were loading two Advanced Medium Range Air-to-Air Missiles for what amounted to a SINK-EX. “AMRAAM? What for?”

Punky let out an exaggerated sigh, letting the two men know she lacked the patience for their technical banter. “Boys, maybe we could focus on the problem at hand.”

Jug looked wounded, but he nodded in agreement. “You’re right,” he said. “You two should focus on stopping the Chinese threat. I need to get upstairs and finish my mission planning for this test.”

“You can’t really intend to go through with this test,” Colt said.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because the waveform we suspect is the cause of my jet’s erratic behavior last night was transmitted to an unknown location in the Channel Islands.”

Jug huffed and walked out of the makeshift paraloft without waiting for Colt to finish his argument. Colt and Punky followed on his heels, walking quickly to keep pace with the test pilot.

“Hold up, Jug.”

He wheeled on Colt. “Look, Smitty asked me to help you out. Hell, I would have helped even if he hadn’t asked. But I’ve been preparing for this missile shoot for months. Months, Colt. Admirals at the Pentagon are interested in the results, and this will either make or break my career.”

“I know. But Jug…”

He placed his palms flat on Colt’s chest. “But nothing. Listen to me, brother, I think you and your lady friend…” He paused and looked over Colt’s shoulder at Punky. “No offense. You two are on to something. I get that. But I still don’t see why I should call my boss back in China Lake and tell him I couldn’t get this done. Or call the three-star for acquisitions and tell him he’s going to have to wait a little longer to pull the trigger on buying this weapon.”

Colt understood what this test meant to his friend. They might have gone different routes in their careers, but he imagined the test track wasn’t much different than the one he was on in the world of tactics. You advanced based on the merits of your contributions, and if you failed to provide something meaningful to your community, you were left sitting on the side of the road, wondering why the bus drove off without you.

“I hear you, brother,” Colt said in a softer tone. “Maybe just postpone it? Delay it a day. Wait until we hear back from China Lake. Let us get some answers first.”

Jug sighed, and Colt could tell he was at least questioning his decision to move forward. “I can’t delay it, Colt. There is a Ticonderoga-class guided-missile cruiser off the coast right now providing range clearance. They launched one of their helos for a search and rescue mission, but—”

Punky interrupted him. “What search and rescue?”

“Apparently some hikers didn’t show for their return trip to the mainland, so the National Park Service called in the Coast Guard to help with the search. The Mobile Bay was in the area, and—”

“Did you say the Mobile Bay?”

Jug squinted at Colt, wondering where this line of questioning was headed. “Yeah, she’s on loan to us for the test. Why?”

“The Mobile Bay is the ship that was harassed by those orbs last night.”

“You mean the one you almost crashed into?” Jug asked.

Colt nodded, unable to say more as the scene replayed again in his mind. He had successfully kept the worst of the memories at bay during the day, but with the sun now below the horizon, they had returned to haunt him. He could see the green-hued cruiser cutting through the water while dozens of orbs swarmed it, and he could feel the impotence when his jet rolled inverted and pulled down in an uncontrolled dive.

Punky’s voice severed his nightmare. “Go back to the search and rescue for a minute,” she said. “Where were these missing hikers?”

“Santa Cruz Island,” Jug replied.

“That’s one of the Channel Islands, right?” she asked.