The black sky seemed to shudder with the fourth explosion as the B-2 tracked down its targets one by one. It had been thirty minutes since Jack and Martin had fired off the first missile and they had enjoyed a quick run of successful hits since then. Having banked after the first strike, they were now on the same course as their targets, heading east over Kashmir and northern Pakistan. As the fourth fireball ballooned upward, Jack veered slightly to avoid the worst turbulence, but the plane still bucked as the explosion-induced vortex warped the atmosphere.

Jack turned to Martin briefly. The other man was staring mutely at the massive plume of flame with a mix of reticence, professional pride, and childlike awe. Jack smiled with him but was disturbed by a sudden beeping from his console. Paging through the screens, he came to the radar and located the source of the alarm. Multiple bogies inbound from astern.

“Martin, I have multiple contacts at vector four-niner converging on our position at Mach 1.” said Jack in a worried tone, “Pull up the radar analysis screen and read off the diagnostics to me.”

“Radar Analysis Screen … got it.” said Martin, as calmly as he could manage. He selected the view and scrolled through the information on screen, assessing what they were facing.

“I make it six bogies, converging on our position in a v-formation. They’re coming up from the southwest so it looks like they were scrambled out of Peshawar.”

“That must be the Pakistan air force coming to check us out.” said Jack. He glanced at the mapping screen and checked his readouts, his face creasing into a frown as he checked their position.

“Shit.” Jack said, “They’re only 300 clicks out, at that speed they’ll be on us before we reach the border.” He shook his head, “how did they scramble a response so quickly?”

“Well, we knew they were going to come looking.” said Martin, as calmly as he could manage.

“Yeah,” replied Jack, “but I guess I had hoped that Shahim’s rampage down there would have delayed them more … or even grounded them permanently.”

Martin nodded, but then replied, in as hopeful a tone as he could muster, “We were either going to have to face these guys or our own fighters scrambling from our bases in Afghanistan. Surely these guys don’t have anything too serious to throw at us?”

Jack barked a sarcastic laugh at the air, then shook his head.

“They didn’t have too much a while back, maybe,” he said, “but that was before we sold them thirty-six more F-16s a few years ago. I have no doubt that is what they have sent to check us out.”

Martin stared at Jack aghast, but the other man merely nodded. Then they both turned back to their respective screens.

“Just F16s, then.” said Martin quietly.

* * *