End Game

XI Fates Unknown

Jed had stood on the thinly carpeted cement floor for so long that his legs seemed to vibrate when he collapsed into the chair in front of the console.

"You look tired, young Jed," said the President.

"A little."

"You've done yeoman's work."

"We're not done yet."

"True," said the President grimly.

The Indians, Pakistanis, and Chinese seemed to have tacitly accepted a cease-fire, certainly for the moment. All three navies were conducting rescue operations in the Arabian Sea. But the situation remained exceedingly chaotic. Good portions of India and Pakistan, including both capitals, were without electricity and communications. It was anyone's guess how long it would take to rebuild the systems damaged by the EEMWBs. Just as it was anyone's guess whether tempers would eventually calm.

In the meantime, the U.S. had two aircraft down in the northern Arabian Sea and a third facing a several-thousand-mile trek without any electronics. The fate of the men and women who had bailed from the planes remained unknown. The Abner Read, herself badly damaged by the attack from the Chinese, was directing the Sharkboat and the Werewolf in rescue operations to recover the downed flight crews.

Dreamland's Whiplash Osprey would be in the area in two hours to help out.

"Coffee, Jed?" asked Peg Jordan, the NSA liaison.

"Coffee'd be great. Better get a pot. We're going to be here awhile."