"THE CELL TRANSMISSION DIED," THE COMMUNICATIONS specialist told Mack.

"What do you mean, it died?"

"He lost his connection or his battery died. I don't know."

"Call him," said Mack.

"I don't know, Major. We don't know how close he is to the people looking for him."

"Call him the h.e.l.l back."

"Incoming transmission from the Johnson."

"Screen." Mack turned around. Lieutenant Mike Englehardt's face bounced back and forth. Though Mack was sure he'd been told a million times to keep his head still while he spoke, the pilot still jerked around nervously. Good thing he didn't fly that way.

"Major Smith, we're having trouble here with the cell phone from President Voda."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I'm on it. Keep your speed pants zipped."

"Major, we're getting a broadcast over the Romanian air defense frequencies you want to hear," said the communications specialist, cutting into his conversation. "Channel Two."

"Stand by Johnson." Mack felt the hives on his hands percolating as he flicked into the transmission. "d.a.m.n, man. This is in Romanian."

"It comes back in English."

A few seconds later the English version began.

"All planes flying above lat.i.tude 46 degree north will immediately cease operations and return to base. This airs.p.a.ce is closed to all military and civilian flights, foreign and domestic. All flights will vacate this s.p.a.ce immediately."

"What a load of c.r.a.p," said Mack. He looked up at the communications desk. "Get me Samson-no wait. Let me talk to Dog."

Aboard EB-52 Bennett,

over northeastern Romania

0200.

MACK SMITH'S FACE SNAPPED INTO DOG'S VIDEO SCREEN.

"Did you receive that Romanian air defense broadcast?" Mack asked.

The sound of the wind in the depressurized cabin was so loud, Dog had to crank the volume to hear.

"We're listening to it now," he said.

"What are you going to do, Colonel? Tell them to shove it, right?"

"I'm not going to tell them that," said Dog. "That's General Samson's job."

Mack frowned.

"He's the reason you have your job as chief of staff, Mack. You got what you wanted."

"Wasn't that a mistake."

"I'll talk to him," said Dog. "I'm sure he's heard it by now anyway."

Dog tapped his screen. His daughter Breanna's helmeted face appeared.

"Bree, I have to talk to the general."

"The no-fly order, right?"

"Yeah."

"He's talking to one of the Romanian air force generals right now. Not that it seems to be doing any good."

"I can wait."

Dog checked his position on the sitrep. They were flying an oval-shaped orbit at 8,000 feet east of the president's vacation house, roughly between it and the border. Hawk One and Two were in a standard patrol position fore and aft of the Bennett, flown entirely by the computer.

Despite the blown hatch, the Megafortress flew a level course, responding to the control inputs flawlessly. As long as they made easy maneuvers and stayed in their pressurized suits, the crew shouldn't have any problems.

"What a bunch of blockheads," said Samson, coming on the line as bl.u.s.tery as always. "Locusta must be behind this."

"Absolutely," said Dog.

"I'll be d.a.m.ned if I'm going to comply."

"Agreed. We only need a few more minutes," said Dog. "Zen is almost at the Osprey rendezvous."

"I better tell Washington what's going on. Someone may get their nose out of joint."

Dog was about to suggest that Samson might not bother to pa.s.s the information along for a few minutes, just in case someone at the White House decided they should comply immediately. But he was interrupted by his airborne radar operator, who shouted so loud he would have easily been heard even if Dog didn't have his headset on.

"Colonel! We have more MiGs! A lot of them this time...sixteen! And they are coming at us like wolves at a pig roast!"

Near Stulpicani, Romania

0205.

ZEN FELT A BIT OF STRAIN IN HIS SHOULDER AS HE ROSE over the second hill and started downward. The exoskeleton handled the enormous strains imposed by flying, but the weight of Mrs. Voda and her son was mostly borne by his body. They tugged him away from the wing unit; like an ancient Roman enemy of the state, hitched to a pair of chariots and about to be pulled asunder.

The Osprey sat like a vulture ahead to his right, opposite a small barn. Zen leaned slightly in that direction, adjusting his movements to the extra weight he was carrying.

"Almost there," he yelled. "You'll be on the ground in just a second."

Near Stulpicani, Romania

0205.

VODA SAT STARING AT THE SKY, LISTENING TO THE MUSIC in his head. He was lost, done. But at least he had saved his wife and son.

That was a man's duty.

But was it a president's? Should he have put them ahead of his country? Should he have gone and left them to die?

History would have to judge.

His body began to buzz. His leg was on fire.

No, it was the cell phone, vibrating.

He reached for it, took it out.

"Yes?"

"Yo, Mr. President, I was afraid I'd lost the connection for good," said the American, Mack Smith. "You need to keep the phone on."

"I had it on. It must have turned off when I fell."

"Well don't fall anymore, all right? What's going on?"

"They're coming for me. I can hear them nearby. Above me."

"Well hide. Go. Go!"

Yes, thought Voda. There were some fallen trees not too far away. He pulled himself up, then started for them, dragging his aching leg.

As he reached them, Voda realized they wouldn't provide much cover. But they did give him an idea. He stripped off his shirt and tucked it between the tree branches, making it just visible. Then he began moving in the other direction.

The dogs barked nearby.

Near Stulpicani, Romania

0205.

"THEY THINK THEY HEAR HIM," MAJOR OZERA TOLD LOCUSTA. "It won't be long now."

"I want no more reports until he is dead," Locusta said.

His satellite phone rang. Locusta answered it. It was his aide, back at headquarters.

"General Karis of the Third Division has ordered his troops back to their barracks."

"What?" demanded Locusta.

"That's the only report I have."

Karis was a key ally. Locusta didn't understand what he was doing, except that it was not what they had agreed. The troops would be needed to keep order.

He would have to talk to Karis personally.

"The Dreamland people want to talk to you as well. General Samson-"

"I don't have time for them. Tell them they are to return to Iasi. Things are critical."

Near Stulpicani, Romania