The Air Force fighters arrived and instantly appraised the situation. Their squadron leader gave hurried instructions and dived, skimming low over the stern of the towboat in an attempt to draw fire away from the battered and smoking helicopter. But the ploy didn't work. They were ignored by Lee Tong's gunners. With growing frustration at the orders not to attack, their passes became ever lower until one pilot clipped off the towboat's radar antenna.

Too badly mauled to remain in the air any longer, the crippled chopper and its pitiful cargo of dead and wounded finally gave up the struggle to remain airborne and fell into the sea beside the barge.

Sandecker and Metcalf sat in shock as the vineo camera on board the weather plane recorded the drama. The war room became deadly quiet and nobody spoke as they watched and waited for the camera to reveal signs of survivors. Six heads were all they could count in the blue of the sea.

"The end of the game," Metcalf said with chilly finality.

Sandecker didn't answer. He turned away from the screen and sat heavily in a chair beside the long conference table, the pepper-and-vinegar spirit gone out of him.

Metcalf listened without reaction to the voices of the pilots over the speakers. Their anger at not being able to pound the towboat turned vehement. Not told of the people held captive inside the barge, they voiced their anger at the high command, unaware their heated words were heard and recorded at the Pentagon a thousand miles away.

A shadow of a smile touched Sandecker's face. He could not help but sympathize with them.

Then a friendly voice cut in. "Lieutenant Grant calling. Is it okay to call you direct, General?"

"It's all right, son," said Metcalf quietly. "Go ahead."

"I have two ships approaching the area, sir. Stand by for a picture of the first one."

With a new shred of hope, their eyes locked on the screen. At first the image was small and indistinct. Then the weather plane's cameraman zoomed in on a red-hulled vessel.

"From up here I'd judge her to be a survey ship," reported Grant.

A gust of wind caught the flag on the ensign staff and stretched out its blue colors.

"British," announced Metcalf dejectedly. "We don't dare ask foreign nationals to die for our sake."

"You're right, of course. I've never known an oceanographic scientist to carry an automatic rifle."

Metcalf turned and said, "Grant?"

I Sir?"

"Contact the British research vessel and request they pick up survivors from the helicopter."

Before Grant could acknowledge, the vineo image distorted and the screen went black.

"We've lost your picture, Grant."

"One moment, General. My crewman manning the camera informs me the battery pack on the recorder went dead. He'll have it replaced in a minute."

"What's the situation with the towboat?"

"She and the barge are under way again, only more slowly than before."