“Sitrep, One,” Ben demanded, and Jed remembered they were on VOX, so their conversation was broadcasting on the comms circuit.

“Aircraft is secure,” Jed said, realizing immediately how absurd that was. “All the tangos are dead, the weapon is secure, but we have a new problem . . . the pilots are dead. It’s just us left on board now.”

“That is a problem,” came Ben’s dry response.

“Yeah,” Jed said. “I assume you want us to try to turn this beast around and point her out to sea before we bail out?”

His question was met with prolonged silence before Ben said, “One, I’m afraid we’re gonna ask you to do one better.”

“What’s that, boss?”

“We’d like you guys to land that thing at NAS Pax for us. It’s pretty important that we secure the weapon.”

“Not it,” Eli said without hesitation, shaking his head and raising his hands in surrender.

“I’m not a pilot, bro,” Jed fired back, meeting Eli’s gaze.

“Neither am I!”

“You’re the veteran Shepherd. You’ve got more experience than me—you land  it.”

“I’m not landing it,” Eli replied. “You’re the lead; you land it.”

“Dude, I can’t land a commercial jet.”

“Gentlemen, I understand your misgivings, but Terry tells me it’s easier than landing a small jet,” Ben said in his ear. “And it’s going to take both of you. Now man up, get in the seats, and I’ll get support on my end. We’re going to have a pilot holding your hand every step of the way. Do not disengage the autopilot until then.”

“We won’t,” Jed replied. “Like we even know how to.”

“Dude, just don’t touch anything,” Eli said. “You Navy SEALS can be a little handsy sometimes.”

Jed gave a snort at the comment; then they both started laughing. “Thanks, bro, I needed that.”

“Anytime. . . . Let’s get these dead guys out of the seats,” Eli said.

Jed stepped into the cockpit and Eli followed. “Captain first,” he said and unfastened the pilot’s harness.

“Look, dude, full disclosure,” Eli said, grunting as he helped lift the dead captain from the left seat. “I hate flying. I’m deathly afraid of airplanes.”

“What are you talking about?” Jed said as they set the body on the floor inside the tiny galley. “You’re a fully qualified Airborne Ranger, Special Forces Delta operator. You’ve jumped out of hundreds of planes.”

“Yeah . . . ’cause I hate them. Ironically, it makes it easier to jump out.”

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” Jed grumbled, grabbing a shoulder of the copilot and turning sideways so Eli could fit in to help him.

“Well, it’s the truth,” Eli grunted.

A moment later, the second body was beside the first.

“We’ll flip for it,” Jed offered, wiping his bloody hands on his cargo pants.