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kicked slowly himself, pushing the raft almost imperceptibly. He told himself he was in a survival tank bank at Nellis Air Base, just having a grand ol’ time with the instructors, one of whom had been Sports Illustrated model material.
    Luscious, that.
    Mmmm, mmmm, mmmm.
    In the raft, Dish shifted around to get closer to him.
    “Hey, Major,” he said in a barely audible voice. “That Chinese ship. I can see it on the horizon, getting bigger.”
    Damn, thought Mack, doing his best not to turn around.
    Aboard the Abner Read,
northern Arabian Sea
0855
    T HE RADAR DETECTOR ABOARD THE W EREWOLF BLEEPED TO let Starship know that the Chinese frigate was looking for it. The ship had changed course and was now making a beeline for the life raft.
    “Tac, I need you to take a look at this,” Starship said. In an instant, Eyes appeared at his side.
    “The frigate is heading in their direction. You think it knows they’re there?”
    Eyes squatted and looked at the Werewolf control screen, which displayed a situational representation of the area. The sitrep provided a bird’s-eye view, augmented with information about the contacts, their speed and bearings. The control computer could gather and synthesize the information from a variety of sources, but in this case it was working primarily with the Werewolf ’s regular and infrared radar. The destroyer was about four miles from the men.
    “They’re too far to know exactly where they are,” decided Eyes. “But I’d say they definitely know they’re in the vicinity.”
    “How long before they actually see the raft?”
    “Hard to tell. It’s too small and low on the water to be detected by any radar the Chinese have.” Eyes straightened. “That leaves human lookouts. Good glasses, good lookouts…”
    Eyes didn’t finish the sentence. Starship knew that his own Mark 1 eyeballs were capable of picking out a silver speck in a bright sky at four or five miles, no sweat. Here, the lookouts would have a nice orange target on a field of deep blue.
    “We have to figure out a way to get them out of there,” said Starship.
    “That, or get the frigate out of there.”
    Aboard the Wisconsin,
over the northern Arabian Sea
0900
    T HE SUN POURED THROUGH THE HATCHWAY ABOVE THE copilot’s seat as Dog turned toward the Chinese ship. Wind surged through the cockpit, grabbing at the folds of his flight suit. He could barely hear his breath in the face mask, which was just as well—he’d started to hyperventilate, too revved on adrenaline.
    “Wisconsin to Werewolf. Starship, can you go over to the Dreamland Command channel?” he asked over the emergency frequency.
    “Werewolf. Affirmative, Colonel.”
    “Do it.” Dog guessed that the Chinese were monitoring the emergency frequency and didn’t want them listening in.
    “I’m on, Colonel.”
    “The Chinese frigate is heading toward Mack and the others. How close is the Abner Read ?”
    “Roughly an hour and a half,” said Starship.
    “Are you armed?”
    “Only with. 50 caliber bullets.”
    The bullets were fired from machine guns in the Werewolf ’s skids. The weapon wouldn’t do much against the frigate, and to use it Starship would have to fly well within range of the Chinese ship’s missiles.
    “ Wisconsin, he’s activated targeting radars,” warned Starship.
    “Yeah, roger that,” said Dog. He took a hard turn, hoping to “beam” the radar, flying in the direction of the waves, where it was more difficult to be detected.
    “Still targeting you.”
    “Just tell me if he fires.”
    “Werewolf,” said Starship, acknowledging.
    Dog began a bank, aiming to circle in front of the destroyer and make himself a more inviting target.
    It was hopeless, wasn’t it? Sooner or later the captain of the frigate was going to figure out what he was up to, if he hadn’t already. And by now he’d have realized that the Megafortress was unarmed and impotent.
    Well, he was weaponless, but was he impotent?
    An hour and a