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“That’s it?” Naylor asked.

“Yes, sir,” General Potter said. “It looks like a no-brainer to me.”

“And General McFadden?” Naylor asked.

“I really have nothing to add, General,” General McFadden said.

Is he saying that because he’s miffed at me? Or because there’s really nothing to say beyond what’s already been said? Potter’s right, this is a no-brainer.

“Okay,” Naylor said. “Everyone seems agreed that we should send General McNab’s people—we’re talking about Gray Fox to neutralize the airplane—and as soon as possible put fighter aircraft in the area—not entering Suriname airspace, of course, but over the Atlantic outside Suriname territory in case the airplane takes off. Whereupon, they will intercept it and order it to return to Zandery. If they fail to comply, they will shoot it down. That about it?”

He looked around the table. When his eyes met those of Admiral Warley, Warley said, “The Rules of Engagement, General? Are we going to give the pilots the authority to take the airplane down or do you want them to ask for permission? And from whom?”

General Naylor looked at General McFadden.

“Al?”

“When I heard the CIA had found the 727,” General McFadden said, “I ordered an E-33down there. The nearest one was refueling at Guantanamo. They said it would take thirty minutes to get it in the air. That was about thirty minutes ago. So it’s probably wheels-up. It’s about eighteen hundredmiles from Gitmo down there. At a little better than five hundred knots, figure three hours twenty minutes. I also ordered up two KC-135s out of Barksdale.4Both are wheels-up, one headed down there and the other to Gitmo, where it will be on a ten-minute runway alert. I also have a four-plane flight of F-15s on a ten-minute runway alert at Eglin.5

“Worst possible scenario: The 727 takes off in the next few minutes, whereupon we scramble the F-15s at Eglin to intercept. The intercept point would be about 150 miles south of Miami, a little south of Cuba. They could either order it to land at Gitmo or shoot it down.

“The decision to do either would be in the hands of the pilot. For obvious reasons that’s risky. But there’s no other way to go until we get the E-3 there and up and running.

“I admit this isn’t an ideal situation, but the truth is, we just weren’t set up to deal with an airplane sitting on a field in Zandery, Suriname.”

“And the best possible scenario, Al?” Naylor asked.

Naylor was impressed with the action McFadden had taken and felt a little guilty for having staged “the junior speaks first” business.

“That would mean the airplane doesn’t try to go anywhere soon—in other words, before we can get the E-3 down there, which will give us both a more positive means of identification and communications here—in other words, take the shoot-it-down-or-not decision off the pilot’s shoulders and hand it to you. Then we get McNab’s people down there and they neutralize the airplane—quietly, very quietly —before it gets in the air. That’s possible, even if we shouldn’t count on it. By the time McNab can get a C-17, Little Birds, etcetera, to Hurlburt—which, obviously, won’tbe in the next hour or two—I should have heard from the CIA where he can set the C-17 down in Suriname.”

“You’ve asked for that intel from the CIA?” Naylor asked.

“I’m told, General,” Lawrence Fremont of the CIA said, “that it will take another couple of hours to get our man out to—and back from—an area about forty miles from the field that we show will take a C-17. But the data’s a couple of months old and we don’t want McNab to get there and find the field is either under water or filled with lumber or scrap metal.”

“I must tell the both of you I’m impressed with all you’ve done,” General Naylor said. “Now, let’s hear what General McNab has to say. Get him on the secure line and put it on the speakerphone, please, Wes.”

“Yes, sir,” Sergeant Major Suggins said and went into the Phone Booth, coming out in less than a minute. “You’re up, sir,” he said.

“General McNab, please,” Naylor said.

“Speaking, sir.”

“You’ve been made aware the 727 has been found in Suriname?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, here’s where we stand. The secretary of defense has tasked CentCom to neutralize the airplane. Everyone here is agreed that Gray Fox is the way to do it. Backed up by Air Force fighters that will intercept the plane should it take off before you can get your people there and either force it to land in Suriname or shoot it down.”

“In other words, sir, what you’re hoping is that a Gray Fox operation to keep the airplane on the ground could be put into play as soon as possible?”

“Yes. You want to tell me how you would proceed?”

“Actually, sir, it probably will be less difficult than it seems. We’re not going to have to land on a hostile airfield, for one thing, and I can’t imagine that they are going to have any meaningful forces defending the airplane. So what has to be done is to put a half-dozen Little Birds—two gunships, four troop carriers—in a C-17 with thirty men, wait until I know where I could sit down the C-17—I’ve asked DIA about possible landing areas; I haven’t heard back yet—and then go do it. ‘It’ is defined as anything from grabbing the airplane to blowing it up.”

“You think you could take over the airplane, Scotty?”

“I think that’s possible, sir. And that would be the best thing to do.”

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