Hail Warning

Rond Point Port — Aboard the Hail Proton

Jason Wilson pressed the trigger and Foo Fighters opened with a barrage of fire from its fully automatic 5.56×45mm mini-gun. The stubby barrel released a dozen rounds in less than a second, and its fire was directed at one of the two Land Rovers below the drone.

“I’m coming in fast,” Alex Knox, the Foreigner’s pilot announced. “Any preference on weapons or targets?”

Hail told him, “I don’t care which Land Rover you take out — just make it disappear.”

Knox switched from guns to missiles and locked a laser beam on the Land Rover to the left.

The pilot nudged his finger under the fire protection cover and pressed the little red button.

“Missiles away,” he said nonchalantly like he fired deadly missiles daily.

Hail’s team watched the video stream from Foreigner’s camera. They watched as the missile flew from its left pylon and streaked toward its target. In less than a second, the LOCO missile hit the tail end of the white Land Rover. And just as Hail had requested, the vehicle disappeared, lost in a fireball and a black cloud of debris.

A moment later, the Land Rover’s remnants crashed down to the ground, looking more like a crushed tin can than a car. Its contours were rearranged. It had no tires or wheels. The frame had been bent at a 90-degree angle. The passenger compartment had been blown free from the vehicle’s mangled frame. Any material that was flammable was now ablaze and black smoke poured from the Land Rover’s carcass.

As Foreigner flew past the wreckage, Hail saw the black Suburban fishtail, try to correct and go sideways before it began flipping over.

“Damn,” Hail said.

After Foreigner had passed over all the vehicles, Knox put it into a steep banked left turn.

Jason Wilson flew Foo Fighters over the demolished Land Rover and aimed its gun sights on the remaining white Land Rover below.

“You are really low on power,” Captain Nichols told Wilson.

“Let him go,” Hail told Nichols. “Kara needs backup. We’ve got nothing else until Foreigner can make another pass.”

Hail turned to look at the third screen with video being shot from Seagulls. The birdlike drone was flying in lazy circles a hundred feet above all the action. Hail could see the SUV barrel roll as the other Land Rover slowed, closing on it. From this vantage point, the crew could see puffs of smoke coming out of the Land Rover’s .50 caliber gun. Hail could only guess what Kara was experiencing.

“Get some lead on that guy,” Hail commanded.

Foo Fighters’ pilot sent another stream of bullets into the Land Rover, crisscrossing the car with his sights, using the spray and pray tactic, trying to cause maximum damage.

“Is that Land Rover slowing down?” Hail asked.

“Yes, it is,” Captain Nichols confirmed. “The question is, why is it slowing down?”

Alex Knox reported, “I’m bringing Foreigner in for another pass.”

Hail saw a black man, who looked very much like Afua Diambu, exit the Land Rover. He began running toward the SUV, and Hail saw that he had a weapon in his right hand.

Hail told Wilson, “Get Foo Fighters in his face. Don’t kill that guy unless I give you the order.”

Captain Nichols told Hail, “Foo Fighters is almost out of power, Marshall.”

“Then have him land Foo Fighters next to the SUV,” Hail said sounding desperate. “All the drone requires is enough power to pull the trigger.”

The pilot maneuvered Foo Fighters in closer to the wreckage of the Suburban. But the man with the gun was already standing next to the SUV’s driver window with his gun pointed inside.

Wilson flew up behind the Diambu lookalike. The drone’s thin tripod legs had already been extended, and Wilson set it down quickly with Foo Fighter’s minigun pointed at the back of the man’s head.

The sole survivor of the Land Rovers was talking to someone inside the SUV at gunpoint. When he heard the noise behind him, he turned away from the vehicle toward the noise. The crews of both the Hail Proton and the Hail Nucleus saw a closeup of the man’s face being shot with Foo Fighter’s camera. The man’s expression was so infused with disbelief and awe that he looked like he might be watching an amazing circus act.

“Turn on the communications,” Hail told the pilot. “I want to talk to this guy before I kill him.”

Wilson reached for the communications icon which would allow Hail’s voice to be patched into the drone’s onboard speaker.

But as Wilson pressed the icon, his control set vanished from his screen. Wilson looked confused for a moment. He said grimly, “The drone is dead. It’s out of power and it did an auto shutdown.”