The War Cloud

49

Marshall stood with his juniors Harney and Wilson, staring blankly at the radar screens inside the battle staff compartment: The D-10s were in position, but the first-strike B-2s carrying the bunker-busting Mavericks were turning back.

“What the hell?” he said.

Banks turned from her console, bad news written all over her face. “Bombers turning back, sir.”

“I can see that,” Marshall said. “Put me through to them right now.”

She paused, putting a finger to her ear. “Northern Command is calling.”

He nodded, and she put General Block through on speaker.

“Our bombers are retreating, Block,” Marshall said. “Zhang already surrender?”

“Sachs is alive,” Block said. “Just got the call.”

Marshall didn’t believe it. “You authenticate her?”

“Yep, and voice prints match too,” Block said. “Listen, son. You’re busted. The president wants to ground Looking Glass, pronto. You are to land at Grand Forks AFB, where a reception team will be waiting for you to turn yourself in. You’ll be tried in a military court and executed for your treason.”

Marshall blinked in disbelief. “I don’t know what kind of horseshit Sachs is feeding you, Block. But pulling back our bombers now is going to cost us. Big time.”

Block didn’t like backtalk any more than Marshall. “You heard me, Marshall. Your pilots have been instructed to land Looking Glass immediately. And in case you have any trouble understanding, we’ve got a couple of F-16s on the way to escort you. Over.”

Block disappeared from view, and Marshall was aware that his own, unreadable poker face was still plain to see for Banks and the others. So he kept it that way on the outside. It wasn’t difficult. Because he knew exactly what to do next.