"Colonel!" Rodgers said as he jumped off the missile. He put his hands against the side of the truck. "We've got to push push it over so it fires into the hills out there." He pointed. "Deserted-- no one dies."

Ki-Soo understood and ordered his men over. While the doctor dragged Puckett out of the way, fifteen men ran to one side of the missile and began pushing. Ki-Soo went around the truck and shot out the tires on that side. While the colonel's men pushed, Rodgers headed toward the last missile. There's still time, he told himself. We're going to do it- Behind him, he heard a metal stanchion groan as the weight of the missile shifted. Without stopping, he looked back as the entire truck-and-rocket assembly slanted, the missile sliding to one side of its gantrylike support-- and the men shouting as smoke began to pour from the back, followed by a jet of yellow-orange flame. The Nodong had ignited as the truck went over.

That's impossible! Rodgers thought as he hit the dirt and covered his head. Tipping the truck over wouldn't cause the missile to launch.

Men ran in all directions from the spire of flame as the missile left the overturned truck and rocketed along the ground, ripping up tents, jeeps, and trees as it blazed across the terrain. It shot through everything in its path for nearly a half a mile before impacting against the side of a hill, sending a fireball over a thousand feet in the air and a searing shock wave back toward the base.

When he felt the rolling heat pass over him, Rodgers was up and running toward the last of the Nodongs.

He had a sick feeling as he ran-- a sense that the South Korean officer was going to have the last laugh. They'd all assumed that the missiles had been programmed to launch at the same time.

But what if they hadn't? Why would they? He went from one to the other to the other. There might be minutes between each one. The first missile programmed had just gone off. The one he'd deprogrammed could have been the second one the South Korean programmed or it might have been the third. Which meant he might have just a minute or so, or- When Rodgers was just twenty yards from the No-dong, he saw the tail begin to smoke.

And then it hit him hard. The timers were set differently. Of course. Why wouldn't they be?

There wouldn't be time to scramble jets or fire air-to-air missiles, not with a missile capable of speeds of over two thousand miles an hour. And even Patriot missiles fired from Japan were chancy: what if the Nodong didn't pass near any of them?

"Colonel!" Rodgers shouted as he started running back toward Ki-Soo.

There was only one chance, and he suspected the officer was ahead of him. As the Nodong hissed on its launcher and erupted in flame, Ki-Soo was already shouting into his radio and his men were quickly seeking cover behind rocks and under ledges.