Blue Warrior

Pearce and Mossa worked their way back down the crumbling cement stairs to the skid-marked tarmac. They made their way over to the hangar where the rest had gathered. The rolling hangar doors had long since disappeared, burned for firewood, Pearce guessed. Even the metal tracks to guide the wheels had been ripped out of the floor for scrap. At least the corrugated steel roof panels were still in place, though sunlight leaked through the scattered gunshot holes, shot from inside judging by the shape of them.

The camels and the others were all inside the cavernous building, hiding from the sun. The cracked floor was strewn with dried chestnuts of camel dung of indeterminable age. Clearly, they weren’t the first visitors to park their animals in here.

Mossa approached his men, sitting cross-legged in front of their kneeling camels. Pearce found Cella near the hangar entrance, smoking a cigarette, staring at the sand.

“We never finished that conversation we had the other day,” Pearce said. “Borrow one of those?” He pointed at her cigarette.

“I thought you quit.” She held out a pack. He pulled one out.

“I quit a lot of things.”

She flicked her lighter. He lit up. They smoked in silence for a while. Pearce thought she would take the bait, talk about her daughter. Something was wrong about that situation. But it really wasn’t any of his business.

“What’s next for you?” Cella finally asked.

“Work.”

“Where?”

“Wherever.”

“Must be lonely for you.”

“I was never much of a people person.” Pearce saw movement in the sand. “What’s that?”

Cella shielded her eyes. “Looks like a snake.” The long, thin shape S’d down the dune toward them. She called over her shoulder to Mossa in Tamasheq.

Mossa came over to them. She pointed at the snake, now stopped on the dune. “What kind of snake is that?”

“I have never seen such a snake.”

Pearce threw down his cigarette and bolted for the dune.

The snake suddenly reversed direction, S-ing backward up the dune, tail first.

Pearce was faster. He snatched up the snake around its neck. The snake flopped and twisted in his fist. He felt the tiny servos grinding in his grip as the rubbery snake body flailed. Pearce wrapped his other fist around the snake’s neck and tried to twist off the head, as he’d done to a hundred other snakes in his life. But the metal spine wouldn’t give way that easily. When he reached the tarmac, he put the flailing snake under his boot and cut the head off with his combat knife. He picked up the severed head. He lifted his boot and the body flopped around on the tarmac. He examined the head more closely as he marched back to the hangar. Video and audio sensors inside the unit. No question.

“What is it?” Cella asked.

“Surveillance drone.” He tossed the head to Mann, now standing at the door along with Balla and Moctar.

“Excellent craftsmanship,” Mann said. “Israeli or Chinese.”

“I’m betting Chinese.” Pearce turned to Mossa. “Get your men ready. We’re going to have company.”

Pearce tapped his ear mic. “You see anything up there, Mikey?”

“A plane. Two, maybe three klicks away. Due west.”

Pearce pulled his sat phone out of his pocket, speed-dialed Ian. “How soon?”

“ETA ten minutes.” It was four in the morning where Ian was, and he hadn’t slept in twenty-four hours. Pearce heard the fatigue in his voice.

“From what direction?”

“East.”

Pearce cursed again. “I need eyes on the ground, and backup, if you can swing it. We’ve got company on the way, maybe already here.”

“How many?”

“Don’t know yet.”

“Troy?” Early said.

“Yeah?”

“Chutes.”

“How many?”

“Looks like… oh, shit. Six, seven, eight, nine—”

Ian interrupted. “I only have the one option if you want assistance.”

“Do it. Now.”

“Will do, but it will take longer than ten minutes to reach you. And there’s been a slight change in plan.”

“What change?”

55

Karem Air Force Base

Niamey, Niger

15 May

Same trailer, same ground control station, different crew.

There were only two Reapers on the base and two GCS trailers. The original DoD plan was to deploy four five-person crews, each working twelve-hour shifts in the two trailers, keeping both Reapers in the air twenty-four hours per day. But budget cuts and crew shortages meant they could only field two full crews at any given time, and that meant keeping only one Reaper aloft for twenty-four hours at a time. Until they were fully staffed and funded, the second GCS trailer would remain shut down in reserve.

This morning’s crew, known as Blue One, was flying a fully armed Reaper on a surveillance mission along the Algeria — Niger border. Technically, the computer was flying the machine on a preprogrammed flight pattern. Intelligence sources on the ground reported possible AQS traffic in the region. The Reaper mission was tasked with monitoring the border traffic and recording any suspicious movement.