Eagle Station

Brad smiled dryly. He understood the general’s desire to put his seal of approval on the Shadow crew’s upcoming attack. But that didn’t alter the fact that Kelleher’s permission was completely redundant. If Dusty Miller and Hannah Craig had planned to head home right after their first pass against the Sino-Russian base, they would have made a transearth injection burn to boost out of lunar orbit while they were still around on the far side of the moon. Since they hadn’t done that, they were already committed to a second pass — no matter what anyone on back on Earth said or thought about the idea.

“Understood, sir,” Miller radioed. “We’ll recontact you before loss of signal. Bravo One out.”

Slowly, Brad sat back. His eyes were hooded.

“What do you think?” Nadia asked carefully.

“It’s a solid concept,” Brad said. “In fact, it’s exactly what I’d do if I were the one flying that bird…” His voice trailed off uncertainly.

“But?” she prompted.

He sighed. “It’s just that, with those two satellites hovering overhead at the Lagrange point, the Russians and Chinese can see exactly what our guys are doing, along every part of their orbit.”

“And the enemy always gets a vote,” Nadia realized.

Brad nodded somberly. “Always.”

Command Center, Korolev Base

A Short Time Later

In silence, Colonel Tian Fan studied the tracking information supplied by Russia’s Kondor-L radar satellite. It confirmed that the American spaceplane had altered its orbit. The S-29 was coming around the moon much lower this time, less than twenty thousand meters above the surface. At that altitude, its weapons laser would already be in range by the time their own plasma rail gun could spot them and open fire.

Briefly, he closed his eyes. It didn’t help. He couldn’t shake the image of that black-winged spacecraft as it streaked toward Korolev Base at close to six thousand kilometers per hour — coming on like the avenging angel of death so feared by some primitive believers. Resolutely, he forced himself to be calm. Death was simply an end, not a beginning.

Tian opened his eyes again and looked over at Kirill Lavrentyev. “These Americans are not fools,” he said quietly. “Their next attack stands every chance of success.”

Grimly, the Russian nodded. His broad face was pale beneath its gray-black streaks of moondust. The failure of his country’s most advanced weapon in its first serious combat on the lunar surface was humiliating.

“Then we must adopt the tactics I have devised,” Tian said flatly. Using both hands, he donned his EVA helmet and locked it into place on his space suit’s neck ring. “We have no alternatives left.”

In answer, Lavrentyev clasped Tian’s gloved hand. “I wish it were not so, my friend.” Then he stepped back and saluted briskly. Silently, Captain Yanin and Major Liu stood up from their own stations and saluted, too.

With a tight smile, Tian returned their salutes. Then he closed his visor, turned awkwardly, and pushed through the curtain separating the command center from the rest of the habitat module. A narrow corridor led to the nearest air lock. He clambered inside and dogged the hatch shut. Then he activated a vacuum pump. It whirred silently, pulling all the oxygen out of the air lock.

Minutes later, he was out on the lunar surface. “Tian to Korolev Base,” he radioed. “Status check.”

“Korolev here,” Liu replied. “No observed change in the S-29’s altitude or orbital inclination. Estimated time to hostile engagement is now twenty minutes.”

He had no more time to waste, Tian realized. Turning away from the habitat module that had been his home for weeks, he bounded fast toward the waiting Chang’e-13 lander. Even in his heavy EVA suit, ascending its short ladder was easy in the moon’s one-sixth gravity.

Once inside the lander’s tight confines, he closed the hatch. Quick key presses brought its control systems to life and started the flow of stored oxygen to pressurize the cabin. Lights flickered on across Chang’e-13’s multifunction displays. Environmental system indicators turned green.

Satisfied, Tian unlatched his helmet visor and stripped off his bulky gloves. For this task, he wanted to be able to feel the flight controls with his own hands. He strapped himself in position.

“Korolev Base, this is Chang’e-Thirteen,” he radioed. “Ready to depart.”

“Fly well, Chang’e-Thirteen,” Liu replied.

Swiftly, Tian checked the rows of status lights on his displays. Everything was ready. He entered a code into the flight program computer. An acknowledgment flashed onto his screen: manual control enabled. automated launch sequence activated.