Whiplash

77

Breanna and the C-17 pilot, captain Frederick, had just settled on the course into Baghdad when Danny Freah called her from Iran. The MY-PID routed the call from its network to her sat phone; the connection was slightly delayed but so clear she could hear him gulping for air as he ran and talked to her at the same time.

“They’re getting ready to launch,” said Danny. “They have the oxidizer in and they’re almost done with the fuel. They’re putting the nose to the warhead on. They’re going to launch, Bree.”

“Now?”

“Any second. Ten minutes at most. I’m going to stop them.”

“Danny—”

“Hera’s with me. We’ll blow up the missile.”

“But—”

“I’m on it. Don’t worry.”

There was a strain in his voice she’d never heard before. For the first time since the mission began, Breanna felt truly scared.

“Godspeed” was all she could say.