Going Deep

PROLOGUE

The desert stretched without borders, without anything but heat and pink light. It lay as it had lain for thousands of years; silent, undisturbed, impenetrable…

And then came the roar…

It started as the somber rattle from the back of a dying man’s throat. The next second a hurricane pounded the air, whipping sand and stone in fury.

Then something infinitely worse exploded in the sky, something metallic, something swirling, something from hell. Four black beasts filled the southeastern horizon like the lions of the Apocalypse. The reflection of morning light off the sand splayed like blood across their wings, vengeance glistening against their seething muscles. Their dark bodies profaned the pink flesh of the horizon, thirsting for the judgment of fire and damnation.

Startled from the half-daze of a monotonous watch, the sentry grabbed his rifle and flung himself against the sand filled bags at the front of the trench. It took a moment for his brain to register the fact that the planes were coming from the south and not the north — they were friends, not foes. The thick canisters of death slung beneath their wings were not meant for him…

“What the hell are those?” he asked his companion as the planes roared over their positions.

The other soldier laughed. “You never saw A-10 Warthogs before?”

“They’re on our side?”

“You better pray to God they are.”