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“He needs some encouragement,” says Eyal.
“Agreed. Are any of the vehicles not blocking your landing?”
“Yes, these two SUVs at the southern end. I can land well short of their position.”
“Good,” I say. “Target both of them. Fire when the counter reaches zero.”
Eyal nods.
“Affirmative.”
I keep hoping Anton will give the order as the time ticks down, but he doesn’t; the vehicles don’t budge, and the minute expires.
“Firing,” Eyal says.
Two conventional air-to-surface missiles launch from under the jet’s wing, streaking toward the SUVs. We follow their flight on the radar as they weave in the air, then slice through the cars’ windshields. Two white-hot signatures appear on the satellite infrared image, explosions decimating the vehicles. Men standing nearby run for cover — not realizing there’s nowhere they can go.
“Move the rest,” I say into the communications channel, “or I’ll keep firing on your personnel. Trust me, we have more rockets than you have people.”
To Eyal, I say, “How far are we from landing?”
“Three minutes.”
“Break off the approach. Set us on a path to strafe the island within rocket range.”
Eyal nods.
“Understood.”
Our jet ascends, banking to the east.
There’s no movement on the landing strip, so I select ten of the targets on the satellite. Once we’re close, rockets shoot from their launchers. A second later, ten of the hardened weapon emplacements blast apart, spraying chunks of concrete and belching smoke. I don’t know how many of the emplacements were occupied by Anton’s men, but I’m not going to waste much time on sympathy. They made their choice.
“Eyal, take us around for another pass.”
The jet turns, preparing to circle the island. That should give Anton a few minutes to consider what happens next.
“Ingram,” says Kate.
“Yes?”
“What if Anton won’t move the cars?”
“He will,” I reply. “He knows we’re not bluffing.”
She nods, though I don’t think she’s convinced.
It doesn’t help that on the next pass, Anton hasn’t budged. I fire off twenty rockets this time; they all hit their marks: security guards posted around the island.
I can imagine the ensuing panic; most of it plays out on the satellite view, as men run for the vehicles parked on the landing strip and drive them off, clearing our path.
“Eyal, put us on a landing vector and take us in,” I say.
“Affirmative.”
A few cheers and whistles sound off throughout the command center. When I turn to Kate, she’s smiling and nodding at everyone.
Into the com channel I say, “Gather every man and woman outside at the landing strip, seated on the ground. Anyone we detect not complying will be targeted and killed. Have all security staff relinquish their guns in a pile on the beach. Everyone will be searched upon our arrival.”
