Wickland shook his head. “This is crazy, Zero,” he said. “We’ve got the gas to get us all the way to Iceland—why didn’t he just order us to head west and link up with a tanker to send us home? We’re loaded down with crappy Russian bombs and missiles that probably won’t work; we’re surrounded by bad guys; and this isn’t even our damned fight!”

“Just button it, will you, Gonzo?”

“I’m serious here, man!” Wickland shouted. “What are we doing here? I’m an engineer, for Chrissakes! I’ve never been in the military! My job is designing and testing weapons and attack systems and writing software, not dropping bombs on Libyans who want nothing more than to shoot my ass off! I want to—”

“Gonzo, I don’t give a shit what you want,” Tanaka interrupted. “Just keep the computers humming and shut your pie-hole.”

“Sure, go ahead—bitch at me. You’re the ex-Air Force war hero—you get off on this shit, not me. It’s McLanahan who’s going to get our asses shot off! I didn’t come out here to ...”

“Wickland, I said, shut the fuck up” Tanaka said. “You knew exactly where we were going and what we were going to do, when we briefed this mission. You knew we were going to attack Libya, refuel and rearm, then attack again. You took the money, bought your Mercedes and your big house in Memphis, and got your big stock options. Now you gotta earn your money. So just fly the plane, keep those computers going and that nav system up tight, and shut up”

Wickland seemed to shrivel up just then. He sat upright in his ejection seat, seemingly oblivious to all the new air defense warnings popping up on their threat display. Tanaka looked over at him, and after a few moments realized that the guy was just plain scared. Tanaka, a twenty- one-year veteran of the U.S. Air Force and retired lieutenant colonel, with over five thousand hours in about nine different tactical fighter and bomber aircraft, instantly felt sorry for him. Combat was just another phase of flight for Tanaka. The simulators they flew back at Sky Masters Inc.’s headquarters in Blytheville were a hundred times more hectic and every bit as realistic as the real thing— Tanaka thought it was excellent preparation for these operational missions, so much so that he felt ultraprepared for almost every Megafortress flight. He never realized that the other, less experienced guys might not think that way. Wickland was an engineer, a designer, not a combat aircrewman.

“Listen, Gonzo,” Tanaka said, “I’m sorry. I know you’re scared....”

“I’m not scared.”

“Okay. That’s fine. I just want you to do your job—”

“I’m going to do my job, George.”