“Buzzed us,” Feng said. “Coming around again.”

Sam pushed the yoke harder forward, diving for the clouds now. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the enemy red arrows banking on the tactical display, coming around to get a bearing on them.

“Chameleonware’s down on the right wing!” Feng said. “We’re visible in radar.”

MISSILE LAUNCH.

Sam’s heart lurched into her throat, even as she turned the yoke and pushed it further forward, diving, banking, feeling the plane shudder again as Feng launched their last two radar decoys.

The cockpit shook hard around her, too soon, even before she heard the first massive boom, and then the second. The yoke jerked again and she fought to keep the plane under control.

Then two more explosions, as the missiles burst against decoys.

What the hell?

And then the radio burst into sound again, in a new voice, with a different accent.

“ATTENTION MYANMAR ROYAL AIR FORCE AIRCRAFT. This is Captain Ajay Nair, Indian Air Force Eastern Air Command...”

“Sonic booms,” Feng said.

Sam turned to look at him, saw a smile slowly growing on his face.

“Indian fighters.” the Chinese soldier finished.

“…This aircraft is now under our jurisdiction,” the new voice went on. “Break off your pursuit.”

Sam held her breath. They could still fire on her, could still take their shot.

On the display, the two red darts turned away, back towards Myanmar. Two new darts appeared, as they de-activated their own chameleonware. Then more, appeared, smaller darts, a dozen at least, popping up all over the scope.

“Drones with them,” Feng said.

Sam exhaled. She could see Feng’s grin grow wider out of the corner of her eye.

Then tones pulsed through the cockpit. Flashing red alerts lit up all over the display.

MISSILE LOCK.

MISSILE LOCK.

MISSILE LOCK.

MISSILE LOCK.

MISSILE LOCK.

MISSILE LOCK.

MISSILE LOCK.

MISSILE LOCK.

Her heart constricted. Multiple Indian radars had just lit them up. She felt Feng tense beside her.

The new voice spoke again, coldly. “Unidentified Falcon 9X out of Apyar Kyun, here is your new course. Do not deviate from it.”

At the speed of light, the unencrypted radio transmissions from the late Shiva Prasad’s private jet spread outward in an ever-expanding sphere. The vast majority of their energy was lost, radiated into space, or absorbed by the atmosphere or the dark waters of the Andaman. But tiny fractions of it were collected by antennae, and translated back into data. At a stealthed listening buoy, bobbing along in the waters below; at a supposedly private home in the Indian-held town of Port Blair in the Andaman Islands; and at a handful of special-purpose satellites no larger than human fists, as they zipped above in low earth orbit. From there the information was flagged, prioritized, and routed to a variety of private organizations and governments alike.

“Indian base, we have Kaden Lane on board, aka ‘Synapse’, co-developer of Nexus 5… Seeking asylum…”