The voice coming over the radio was expected, but Smith still felt a jolt of adrenaline. It hadn’t taken General Baron long to confirm that the Chinese air force wasn’t going to take this lying down. With the escalating tensions throughout Asia, a sudden incursion by an ostensibly crippled US aircraft and its escorts would seem more than a little suspicious.

“What’s the plan, Jon?” his pilot said.

This was no time for hesitation, but Smith was having a hard time giving the order. The Chinese were understandably frightened by this invasion of their airspace—just as the Americans would be if the shoe was on the other foot. But deep down, they would be finding it hard to believe that the United States would unilaterally attack the second-largest military in the world with a handful of F-15s. It was unlikely that their pilots were authorized to take offensive action—and the Chinese didn’t sneeze without authorization.

“Sir?” the pilot prompted, but still Smith didn’t speak. There were hundreds of millions of lives at stake but this still felt like murder. He would never be able to wash the blood off his hands. The blood of honorable men defending their country.

“ETA to the prime minister’s plane?”

“Just under five minutes, sir.”

Smith looked down at the dead landscape thousands of feet below. There was nothing for hundreds of miles in any direction. It was exactly what he’d hoped for. Exactly what he needed.

“American aircraft,” said an accented voice over his earphones. “Turn around immediately and prepare to be escorted out of Chinese territory.”

There was no more time. Smith switched his radio to communicate with all six pilots under his command. “Take them out.”

The two seconds of silence that ensued seemed excruciatingly long.

“Sir, would you repeat that order?”

“We have the element of surprise but it isn’t going to last. Take as many of them out as possible with the initial attack. We’ll continue on to intercept the prime minister’s plane. The rest of you keep the surviving Chinese fighters off us at all costs. Is that clear? There are no other considerations. Keep them off us at all costs.”

64

64

Oval Office
Washington, DC
USA

I understand that, but—”

Sam Adams Castilla held the phone’s receiver away from his ear as the president of China went on another panicked tirade. His English wasn’t bad, but tinged with hysteria it was hard to follow everything he said. Not that the details mattered. The bottom line was that there were six American F-15s over his country with Chinese fighters nearing intercept. And Castilla hadn’t even gotten to the bad news yet.

“Mr. President, we need to—”

Yandong just kept talking over him—demanding that the aircraft reverse course immediately, railing against the absurdity of the disabled flight computer story, and projecting the impending devastation that would be the result of a war between their nations.