Whiplash

63

By the time Breanna got back to the Osprey, the radar had identified twenty-four individual planes, all flying on a path a few miles north of them. Most had already passed; the radar showed them gaining altitude quickly.

She took one look at their flight patterns and the plane types and knew two things instantly: They were on a bombing mission, aiming at a target in Sudan. And they were Israeli.

She took out the secure sat phone and called Reid immediately.

“Jonathon, I think the Israelis know about the Iranian plant in Sudan,” she told him. “They’re on their way to blow it up.”

“What?” said Reid.

“They’re at low altitude, flying at high speed not too far from here. The radar in one of the Ospreys picked them up.”

“Stand by.”

He came back a few moments later to tell her that the bugs Nuri had placed in the complex had just gone off line due to explosions.

“I’m going to have to get back to you,” said Reid. “This hasn’t hit the network yet.”

“Go,” said Breanna. “I have everyone. We’re en route back to Dire Dawa.”

There was one more thing they had to do before leaving — blow up their gear.

Breanna had the Osprey circle over the hill. The mercenaries were in the rocks, sitting uneasily between the Ethiopians and the Sudanese.

“I want you to tell them to get away from the boxes,” she told Abul, going into the rear of the aircraft. “I want you to warn them that they’re going to be blown up.”

“We’re going to land again?” said Boston.

“No. We’re equipped with a PA system for crowd situations. We’ll use the loudspeaker.”

Abul followed her into the cockpit. He was shocked when he saw the empty seats.

“Who’s flying the plane?” he asked.

“It flies itself. Tell them.”

Breanna sat in the pilot’s seat and handed him a headset, channeling the mike into the PA. Abul handled it awkwardly, then began ordering the mercenaries to leave the hill.

They made no sign of complying.

“The hill is about to be exploded,” he said. “You must leave for your own safety.”

They responded by firing into the air at the Osprey.

“Evasive maneuvers!” Breanna told the computer.

The Osprey swung hard to the right, then rose quickly. Out the side window she saw the tracers flying toward them.

“Screw this,” she said, and detonated the gear.

The gunfire stopped.

“Computer, begin return flight to Dire Dawa as programmed,” she said. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”