“We should also push to upgrade the sensors on the recon FlightHawks,” Wendy added. “We can put an ultrawideband radar on a FlightHawk to let us scan for underground bunkers and communications lines under the sand.” The ultra-wideband radar, or UWBR, was one of the most significant advances in surveillance and reconnaissance: a radar capable of seeing through some medium- density objects. The system normally fit only on a full-size aircraft, but Jon Masters had redesigned it to fit on board a small, unmanned aircraft. “The FlightHawks will have only a few hours’ loiter time because of the size of the UWBR system, but we’ll be able to scan the country quicker and more efficiently.”

“Then let’s get it all moving this way immediately,” Patrick said. “I don’t want to give the Libyans a chance—” Just then, an electronic warning tone sounded—the collision warning. Everyone in the briefing room immediately shot to their feet and headed out to their emergency stations. At the same moment the phone from the bridge sounded; Patrick picked it up before the second ring. “Go ahead, Brian.”

“We got a situation, General,” Brian Lovelock, the captain of the Catherine, responded. “We’re receiving distress signals from two vessels within thirty miles of our position, saying they’re under attack from unidentified aircraft. No warning given. The attackers appear to be moving from east to west—in our direction.”

“Got it,” Patrick replied. He pressed another button, this one hooked directly to the Combat Information Center and his longtime friend and partner, David Luger. “Dave, what do you have?”

“We’re just now picking up four high-speed aircraft bearing one-zero-five, altitude less than one thousand feet, heading west at four hundred eighty knots,” Luger responded. The Catherine had an entire combat radar system hidden aboard the salvage ship, disguised as standard navigation radars—it was as combat-capable as many world navies’ warships. “Sorry we didn’t pick them up earlier, Muck, but they are right down on the friggin’ deck. Their ETE is four minutes.”

“Sound general quarters, everyone to air defense positions,” Patrick ordered. “Better start a complete data dump to the satellite and then destroy the classified. Someone’s on the warpath out here, and I think we’re next.” On his subcutaneous microtransceiver, he said, “Patrick to Wendy .. . Wendy, I want you aboard the Pave Hammer, along with the civilians.”

“I’m staying,” Wendy said. “I can have a FlightHawk armed with air-to-air missiles airborne in three minutes.”

“Wendy, no argument. You’re evacuating with the other civilians.” He paused, then said, “Bradley is waiting for you.”

There was a slight pause, but Patrick knew invoking the name of their son would do it. “All right.”