“We have received a call from the plane saying that Sanetomi suffered a heart attack. We’ve approved rerouting to Chengdu.”

Castilla’s jaw tightened. It made perfect sense. While the nanotech wasn’t technically a biological weapon, it behaved almost exactly as if it were. Takahashi needed to unleash it in civilization for it to take hold. Yandong’s rural retreat would be too isolated to ensure its spread.

“Mr. President, I have the US Army’s top microbiologist on one of those F-15s with orders to shoot Sanetomi’s plane down.”

“You’re going to shoot down the Japanese prime minister’s plane?” Yandong said, suspicion starting to overshadow the fear in his voice. “Over Chinese territory?”

“Those are the orders I’ve given,” Castilla said and then took a deep breath. “There’s more, though. My man’s plane is also carrying an enhanced radiation weapon.”

“A…a what?”

“They’re more commonly known as…” Castilla winced as Keith Morrison looked on. “Neutron bombs.”

“You’ve flown a nuclear bomb into my country?” Yandong shouted, followed by more yelling in Chinese.

“Mr. President! We don’t know exactly what we’re dealing with in regard to this genetically engineered disease. My man has recommended that the wreckage of the prime minister’s plane be irradiated to make absolutely certain that the pathogen is killed and can’t be picked up by the wind.”

He could hear more muffled shouts that he didn’t understand, but this time he didn’t interrupt. The carrier groups in the Pacific were all on high alert, and America’s subs were converging on the Chinese coast. Morrison had moved the military to DEFCON 3 and was holding there so as not to add more fuel to the fire. The secretary of state was in Japan, talking with the leaders in Sanetomi’s government and trying to figure out just who the hell was in charge.

Beyond that, there was nothing Castilla could do. His cards were on the table and his only option now was to wait for Yandong to lay down his own hand.

65

65

Over Eastern China

As the five F-15s under his command broke off and started on a course to intercept the ten Chinese Shenyang J-11s, Smith realized he was holding his breath. And that he couldn’t seem to get it going again.

In his helmet, he could hear the broken English of one of the Chinese pilots warning them off. Undoubtedly another was on the radio to their base, trying to get rules of engagement from a long, complex, and confused chain of command.

For better or worse, Smith’s people had no such issues. The buck stopped with him.

General Baron was right about his pilots. They were flawless. They flew in perfect formation, holding until they were at the edge of missile range and then all firing simultaneously.