The LongRanger was nearly three miles downriver, moving southeast. The helicopter still lurched and roller-coastered now and then, though less frequently now. It was like a bronco resigning itself to being broken. Only August didn't want it resigning itself too fast. Legally, he suspected, he wouldn't be able to justify what they were about to do unless the chopper was out of control and a threat to people on the ground.

"Approximate speed one-two-five miles an hour," the pilot said as they watched the LongRanger recede.

The Osprey nosed down slightly, the props tilting forward as it moved ahead. At speeds of up to 345 miles an hour, the VTOL would overtake it quickly. However, the crew chief wasn't ready yet. He and his three-man team were in the cargo bay readying a two-thousand-pound hoist with a two hundred-foot cable. The cable was used to pick up or deposit cargo in areas where the Osprey couldn't land.

August had told them to get the hoist ready. When he told them why, Manigot and Boisard jokingly requested that they please be court-martialed and jump right to the execution instead. The end result would be the same.

But August didn't believe that. He told them what he told everyone in his command. If a job is planned correctly and executed by professionals, it should go as smoothly as getting out of bed in the morning. And while there were always intangibles, that was what made the job exciting.

The Osprey soared ahead in its helicopter configuration. August was not so much concerned with speed as being able to track the chopper. If the pilot decided to change course abruptly, August wanted to be able to adjust accordingly. The Colonel had also ordered his radio operator to maintain silence. The less information the LongRanger had about who was on board or why, the less likely he was to dig in his heels. There was nothing more antagonizing than a faceless, voiceless adversary.

The pilot adjusted the Osprey's altitude so that it was flying one hundred feet higher than the LongRanger. He bore down on the helicopter, sweeping east or west as it moved with the river. Obviously, whoever was at the controls knew how to fly but not how to navigate. He was following the river to get away.

The Osprey closed the gap, bearing down like a storm, fierce and unstoppable. The LongRanger pushed itself but wasn't able to pull away. In less than two minutes the Osprey was on top of it. The LongRanger tried to move aside, but each time it did the larger aircraft moved with it.

All the while the hoist crew worked quickly to ready their equipment. When it was finally done, the crew chief radioed the cockpit.

"Senior Airman Taylor is ready, sir," said the pilot. Colonel August pulled on gloves and nodded. "Tell him to open the bay. I'm coming back."