They were all dead now, all except Linda and PFC Richardson.

From above there came a loud snap, followed by the hiss of a missile leaving its nest.

He took off his parka and threw it over Linda’s shoulders. “Let’s move, Gina’s doing the woods.”

A gigantic roar filled the air, and with it came the oily stink of napalm as the forest bloomed with fire. A moment later, this was followed by the wild crackle of hundreds of cluster bombs detonating.

Mark shielded Linda as best he could from the waves of heat and the deafening roar. He guided her toward the house and the van beyond it.

An explosion came so huge and so close that it seemed to pull the air right out of their lungs.

Screaming, Linda threw herself to the ground.

“It’s high explosive,” he shouted. “They’re putting down the fire, it’s not going to hurt us.”

Again the sound came, rocking them, shattering every window in the house. It was followed by the eerie warble of the Raptor’s engines vectoring thrust as the pilot performed a modified Kulbit, quickly repositioning the plane for another strike. The plane looked like a silver leaf hanging in the sky, then actually backing up on its incredible thrusters.

There were four more strikes. Gina was nothing if not thorough.

As they jumped into the van, Mark turned on his phone—and was instantly greeted by beep after beep. Urgent calls from Gina, six of them. Oh, she’d have him up on charges now, you bet.

He pressed her contact button.

“Lyndon.”

“You’re off target, lady. Do the farm.”

“What in hell’s holy name are you doing out there, you brain-dead moron? Some friggin’ genius you are!”

“Do the farm and the woods behind it right now.”

“The hell, I’m gonna do that Ford van I see leaving the farm. That van is fulla morons. They’re worse than hybrids.”

He let her rant. When she stopped, he said again out of the well of his sadness and his rage, “Do the farm. For me, Gina. Especially the woods behind it.”

There was a short silence, then, “Get out of there, Mark. Please, I cannot lose you.”

The jet wheeled around overhead, and the farm disappeared into a gigantic curtain of flame.

As they crossed the bridge, they passed a stopped convoy of local fire equipment, their light bars flashing, the men standing in the roadway watching the action. Obviously, they had orders not to proceed until directed.

“That was very fast, Gina.”

“What in hell were you doing out there?”

He took a breath. Beside him, Linda was curled up in her seat, her face in her hands. He would speak, he would sound professional.

“Gina, I have lost all my people except Hicks and Richardson. They are all KIA, all sight-confirmed.”