“I’m sorry to disappoint, General, but I’m not just a scientist, I’m one of the world’s leading experts on the consequences of biowarfare. That’s basically what you’re doing here. You’re creating artificial life and weaponizing it. You won’t be able to control it, sir. I guarantee that. If you feel you have to attack China, do it. Nuke them. I imagine you’ve built quite an arsenal and have a way to deploy it that they’ll never see coming. But destroy Ito’s weapon and everything relating to it.”

Takahashi didn’t react other than to tap one of the feeds on the tablet. It depicted an empty meadow probably only twenty yards in diameter. Smith focused on it but wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be looking for. A moment later a projectile flashed into view at the top of the frame. Dirt and rock were thrown into the air when it impacted the ground and the dust clouded the image.

For a moment, he wasn’t sure what had happened, but then he noticed the broken metal parts strewn across the clearing: fins, a nose cone, broken chunks of a fuselage. It had been some kind of bomb, probably dropped from a high-altitude drone. But it hadn’t exploded. A dud? Had his side finally gotten a lucky break? Randi sure as hell couldn’t have missed that. She’d know that her operation was blown and get her people the hell out of there.

It didn’t take long to realize that he had fallen victim to wishful thinking. Tiny jets of flame became visible throughout the clearing and he stared down in silence as they began to take to the air.

55

55

Northeastern Japan

Everybody get down!” Randi shouted, shoving the students off the digger as the low whistle from above grew louder. Max Wilson was standing frozen on top of the machine’s titanium shell, a bloom of colorful wires in one hand and a set of pliers in the other. She yanked his ankle, pulling his feet out from beneath him and following him to the ground.

The whistle was earsplitting now, and she had to shout to be heard. “Faces in the dirt! Hands on the backs of your heads!”

All but one complied, a panicked kid who barely looked eighteen. “Bruce! Get your ass—”

The impact was a hell of a lot closer than Randi had hoped. She buried her face in the grass and waited for the flames to wash over her, but nothing happened. After staying motionless for a full three-count, she pulled out her silenced Beretta and ran for the closest tree.

Eric Ivers appeared to her left, taking similar cover about ten yards away. He gave her an inquisitive look but all she could do was shrug. Vanya was a little farther ahead, moving methodically toward the impact site with an MP5 clutched in his hands.