“Each Wolverine will carry two different warheads: a deep-target penetrating warhead using a rocket-propelled one-thousand-pound warhead, followed by a one- thousand-pound thermium nitrate high-explosive warhead. Each Wolverine will travel a different flight path but will be programmed to hit the same spot; each missile will perform a pop-up push-over maneuver to drive the first warhead down through the roof to the subfloors, followed by the thermium detonation. The weapons should have no problems going through each level to the command center level, even if they put armor in we don’t know about.

“As you know, the thermium warhead has the explosive power of five tons of TNT,” Patrick went on, “so if the FlightHawk can determine if the target has been destroyed, we may divert the other Wolverines, probably the third one, to a secondary target, which is the military communications facility at Benina. If we need a tertiary target, we’ll switch to the combination petroleum-fired power plant and desalination plant just east of Benghazi—that should turn out the lights and shut off the taps in Benghazi for quite some time.”

Patrick displayed another map, this one of northwestern Egypt. Hal Briggs noted that Patrick’s briefing was cool, calm, professional, and well under control. He had seen Patrick give countless reports and briefings over the fourteen years he had known him, and despite everything that had happened to him and everything they were facing now, he seemed like the same emotionless all-business guy he’d always known. Yet in a way, this mission was much different: Although Patrick planned this mission as a strike against a very-high-value military target, Hal reminded himself, it was still a punitive strike—Patrick was simply lashing out at the Libyans. That was not like him at all.

“We’ll position ourselves at three principal border crossings in western Egypt—Salum, Arasiyah, and Shiyah,” Patrick went on. “We’ll have Egyptian Mi-8 and Chinook CH-47 helicopters with us, enough to take at least fifty survivors with us, along with Egyptian security forces and some of our own commandos. In case the prisoners are turned over after the attacks commence, we’ll be ready to take them or go in and rescue them if the Libyans have a change of heart. If the prisoners show up anywhere along the border, the other helicopters can respond to help. Questions?”

The telephone in the briefing room rang; all heads turned, because they knew that the Charge of Quarters would not allow any calls through during a briefing unless it was absolutely urgent. David Luger picked it up immediately; he listened, then snapped his fingers at the television set bolted in one comer of the room. “CQ says turn on the TV right now,” Luger said.

Patrick couldn’t believe his eyes. There, on Egyptian national TV, was Ulama Khalid al-Khan, giving a press conference. The caption at the bottom of the screen, written in both Arabic and English, read “Libyan prisoners released TO EGYPT.”