Outlaw

Cutty furrowed his brow and looked as if he was about to read Colt the riot act for going after the hijacked fighter on his own. But then he burst into laughter and slammed his palm flat on the table. “Holy fucking shit, Colt! You stole an F-35?”

“I borrowed it,” he said, though he knew it was a matter of semantics.

“No wonder Big Navy wants to keep this quiet! Not only is there a weakness in the F-35’s system architecture, but one of their most accomplished aviators stole one!”

“Borrowed,” Colt repeated, still feeling as if the senior pilot was scolding him.

But Cutty didn’t seem angry. “Well, I know the Lincoln is still floating, so you might as well tell me how you stopped the Chinese from sinking her.”

When Colt looked up, he saw an amused expression on the captain’s face and realized he’d misread the older man’s reaction. “I wish I could say it was something heroic—”

The older pilot cut him off. “Stealing a Joint Strike Fighter is pretty fucking heroic, Colt.”

He ignored the praise. “By the time I reached Jug, the Chinese had already taken control of his jet and were preparing to launch the missiles. But they spotted me first and pitched in.”

“What did you do?”

“I had no choice but to dogfight.” He replayed the fight in his mind.

“Did you shoot him?”

He nodded, and Cutty gasped. “But I didn’t hit him.”

“Holy shit. You actually fired on him?”

“I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t let them sink the carrier. As it turns out, it didn’t even matter.” When Cutty remained silent, Colt continued. “They ended up launching both missiles against the carrier. The Mobile Bay shot one down, and the Lincoln’s CIWS took out the other. When it was all said and done, Jug and I diverted into San Clemente on fumes.”

Cutty reached under his desk and removed two tumblers and a small bottle of whiskey. He uncorked the bottle and filled each glass with one finger of the bronze medicinal liquid, then pushed one across the desk to Colt. As Colt stared at the contraband liquor, Cutty lifted his glass into the air. “Here’s to you, Colt, for having the balls to do what needed to be done.”

Colt picked up his glass and clinked it against the captain’s, then brought it to his lips.

4

Jinmao Tower

Shanghai, China

After her meeting, Lisa went straight to her room and ran a hot shower, where she sat on the tiled floor and sobbed. She knew when Shen Yu returned to Hunan, he would be arrested for spying and executed without due process. His death wouldn’t be reported, and the world would continue to spin believing China was a modern nation far removed from its violent past of Communist oppression.

After almost twenty minutes on the floor of her shower, she stopped feeling sorry for herself and resolved to honor his last wishes. She picked herself up, turned off the water, and climbed out to dry off. Sitting in her robe at the foot of the bed, she ran a brush through her damp, dark hair and contemplated how to get the flash drive and its contents back to Langley before Shen Yu’s ominous warning came to fruition.

If what he had said was true, they were already watching her. She couldn’t assume the flash drive would be safe concealed in her luggage or transmitted electronically back to Langley. She put the brush down and stared out the window at the remarkable Shanghai skyline while contemplating her options.

The phone on her nightstand rang and broke her from her trance.

“Hello?”

“Lisa!” Jenn’s perky voice broke through her fatigue. “What are you doing?”

“I was just getting ready for bed,” she replied, hoping the younger flight attendant caught the hint.

“Want to have a nightcap and watch the sunset?”

“I don’t know…” She was about to decline, but a glance at the flash drive resting on the nightstand gave her an idea. “Maybe. Do you have a computer I can use?”

“Yes! Come on over!”

“I’ll be right there,” Lisa said.

After hanging up, she got dressed in a pair of jeans and a faded, loose-fitting concert T-shirt, then tucked the flash drive into her front pocket, armed herself with the nonmetallic G10 blade concealed in a sheath along her waistline, and snatched her room key off the dresser. She surveyed her room once more, then tucked the Do Not Disturb sign between the jamb and the door as she closed it and stepped out into the brightly lit hall.

Before Lisa could knock, Jenn opened the door and pulled her inside. “There’s my computer,” she said, pointing to a worn MacBook sitting on the desk across from her bed. “I’ll pour you a glass.”