A state of disobedience

McConnell Air Force Base, Wichita, Kansas

Jim Beason, Massachusetts, and Mike Sperry, Texas, were the Air Force's creme de la crème—fighter jocks. Fast, tough, hard, wiry, smart and not a little brave, too.

Even so, they visibly paled as Jesse Vega's nationally recognizable voice came over the loudspeaker in the base operations room to which they had been summoned at a run. It couldn't be said that they liked that voice . . . but they had to respect the power behind it.

"We've got a situation here," said Vega. "An Army National Guard helicopter has been stolen. We have reason to believe . . . good reason, gentlemen, that that helicopter is carrying a weapon of mass destruction—biological, we believe. We know it left Santa Fe, New Mexico, less than twenty minutes ago, heading toward Amarillo, Texas.

"You are to force it to land as soon as you intercept it. If-it-will-not-land . . . shoot it down before it reaches a city. FBI, EPA and the Centers for Disease Control will be following by helicopter to take charge of the weapon as soon as you force it down."

Air Force eyes widened in faces gone paler still. This sort of thing had happened in the past, though it was rarely discussed and never in a public way. "Yes, ma'am!" they shouted as they bolted toward their waiting aircraft. Already they were calculating heights and speeds and routes to come up with a likely intercept point. "Don't worry. We'll take it down. Goddamned RIF."

Unseen across the airways, Vega smiled happily. She had not herself mentioned anything like Radical Islamic Fundamentalists, though she had expected that the pilots would leap to that assumption. She had, of course, said "weapon of mass destruction" . . . but then was not Governor Seguin a weapon that promised mass destruction to Vega's party? Was she not biological?

* * *