“Chengdu tower. This is General Masao Takahashi in Prime Minister Sanetomi’s plane. Your aircraft have engaged a group of American fighters to our south. Please advise. What is the situation?”

These communications were undoubtedly being monitored at the highest levels, and he could use that to keep the Chinese off balance. It seemed likely that President Castilla had already informed them that Takahashi was attempting to deliver some kind of weapon, using that as cover for the incursion into China’s airspace. Clearly they didn’t trust the Americans and had decided to stop them. All he had to do was make sure they stayed the course and unwittingly destroyed their only chance at survival.

“Stand by, General,” a voice over the radio responded.

“Tower, is this an exercise? Please advise. We appear to be within missile range. Should we change course?”

“Stand by.”

Takahashi isolated the mike and spoke to his pilot. “What is our ETA to Chengdu?”

“We should be at the outskirts in fifty-three minutes, sir.”

Takahashi looked out at the dogfight, now barely discernible on the horizon. The distance was nothing more than an illusion, he knew. The fighters’ superior speed would allow them to close it in a matter of seconds.

Squinting into the sunlight, he focused on a contrail near the center of the chaos. There was something strange about it. Something different about the way it reflected the sunlight.

“Binoculars!”

One of his men rushed to bring him the pair he’d left on the seat and Takahashi put them to his eyes. A jolt of adrenaline coursed through him as he saw that a lone fighter had broken away and was on course to intercept them. He kept the lenses trained on it long enough to analyze the profile and confirm that it was American.

“Tower, this is Takahashi,” he said into his headset. “One of the F-15s has broken away and is on course to intercept us. Connect me immediately to President Yandong. We are on a diplomatic mission and the prime minister is gravely ill.”

“We are connecting you, General,” the voice responded. “Please stand by.”

Another fighter broke away and gave chase. Takahashi watched, feeling the pounding of his heart ease slightly. It was Chinese and it was overtaking the F-15 at a rate that would put it behind the American fighter well before it got within range of Takahashi’s jet.

Nothing could stop him now. Not the Americans. Not the Chinese. This was his destiny. They would land in Chengdu and while the doctors pronounced Sanetomi dead, he would release the weapon that would exterminate their entire useless race.