“Doesn’t it look lonely?” Kelsey asked her new big brother. “It needs some love and attention. We can do it, Jon. We put Dragon’s new plasma generators in, give it some gas, and take it on a trip to help the general find his wife.” She saw Jon’s smile vanish and his shoulders slump. “I know Wendy is still okay, Jon. I know she is. But we need to help Patrick so he can go back and find her.”

Jon smiled at his little partner, then nodded. When he looked at Dragon Two, he had to agree—it was a goodlooking bird, and right now it did look pretty lonely.

He pulled out his secure cell phone: “Doug? How’s it going ... ? Excellent. Listen, pull Ken and Duncan’s crews off Dragon One and have them start installing the plasma generators on Dragon Two ... yep, right now. As soon as Joel’s crew signs off their preflight on One, have them jump over to help, and get the rest of the crews on Two as soon as One launches. We’re going to bring Dragon Two with us ... yes, and I want it operational... yes, operational, not just flyable.. .. We’ve done all the lab testing we’re going to do. Dr. Duffield and I are standing out front right now to help. We have about six hours to do it... yes, I said six, and I’ll be surprised if we don’t get a visit from the feds before then. Let’s hustle!”

SKY MASTERS INC. WORLD HEADQUARTERS,
 ARKANSAS INTERNATIONAL JETPORT,
 RLYTHEVILLE, ARKANSAS
 LATER THAT EVENING

The twin-engine Aerostar aircraft taxied quickly off the two-mile-long runway right up to the doors of Sky Masters Inc.’s main hangar. The pilot wheeled the light twin around so it was pointing back down the taxiway toward the runway, then shut down engines.

In less than two minutes, two dark sedans pulled over to the plane, blocking it fore and aft. By the time the pilot opened the split clamshell doors and stepped out, the plane was surrounded by agents in black fatigues emblazoned with “FBI” and “FEDERAL AGENT” front and back, all carrying M-16 assault rifles at the ready.

“General McLanahan?” one of the agents in a simple dark suit and tie announced.

“That’s me,” Patrick replied.

“Special Agent Norwalk, FBI, Memphis office. I’d like you to come with me. Anyone in the plane with you?” Instead of waiting for a response, another agent pushed past Patrick and shined a flashlight inside, then shook his head, indicating it was empty. Another agent checked the baggage compartment in the back—it, too, was empty. He even checked the wheel wells, but they were too small to hide anything bigger than a small dog.

“Something wrong?” Patrick asked.

“We’ll explain everything inside,” the FBI agent replied. “Your plane will be secured inside the hangar.”