Strike Zone. Dale Brown

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own attack squadron, sending them to hot spots around the globe with a direct phone call.

      ‘This plan calls for them to be based in the Philippines again,’ said Hartman, changing the subject. ‘The government there is still upset over the handling of the guerrillas we encountered. We need an alternative base.’

      ‘The, uh, uh –’ Jed wanted to protest about the alleged guerrillas, who had turned out to be simply displaced villagers, but his tongue tripped and he couldn’t get it out. The Dreamland people had insisted on protecting them until their identities could be proven; they were catching grief for doing the right thing.

      ‘All right,’ said the President. ‘Where else? Taiwan?’

      ‘Not Taiwan,’ said Hartman. ‘Far too provocative. What about Brunei?’

      ‘Brunei?’ asked Chastain.

      ‘The sultan is looking for signs of friendship and pushing for access to more weapons,’ said the secretary of state. ‘This might be a good gesture.’

      Jed started to object. ‘It’s f-far from –’

      ‘It is far from China,’ said the President. ‘But according to the CIA, China may not be the country operating the clone at all. Besides, I’d like to show our friend the sultan that we value his alliance.’

      The President’s tone suggested that the meeting had come to an end. He glanced around the room, then looked back at Jed.

      ‘Jed, set this up. I want Dreamland deployed as part of the ASEAN exercises – give it a cloak of respectability.’

      ‘Yes, sir,’ said Barclay

      ‘We’ll supply a liaison,’ said the secretary of state. ‘There are important protocols. The sultan has to be handled with a certain amount of –’

      The secretary stopped, glancing at Balboa. Jed realized that he was going to say ‘tact,’ then realized that might imply that Colonel Bastian had none.

      Obviously, he didn’t want to give Balboa the satisfaction.

      ‘Protocol,’ he said instead.

      ‘Fine,’ said the President, rising to end the meeting.

      Dreamland Personnel Building Two 1805

      Dog decided to swing around to Jennifer’s apartment on his way back to Taj. He hadn’t seen much of her since getting back from Hawaii, and felt guilty about it; while he’d been in Honolulu he’d learned that his ex-wife was planning on moving to Las Vegas. He knew he had to tell Jennifer about it, let her know that however awkward it might be, it was only that – awkward. Dog didn’t hate his ex-wife. The truth was he had never really hated her, even when she asked for a divorce. Whether he’d ever loved her or not – well, that was a question best contemplated over a very long set of drinks.

      He did love Jennifer. He was sure of that.

      Dog jogged down the short set of steps to the hallway leading to the apartments, which spread out right and left. As he started down the hallway, he saw two members of his Whiplash team standing guard in front of Jennifer’s door, Sergeant Liu and Sergeant Bison.

      ‘What’s the story here?’ the colonel asked.

      ‘We’re under orders not to let anyone in or out,’ said Liu.

      ‘Whose orders?’ asked Dog.

      ‘Colonel Cortend,’ said Liu.

      ‘Since when do you take orders from Cortend?’ Dog asked him.

      ‘Sir, Captain Freah told us to stand guard here. The colonel – Colonel Cortend is sending over a detail to inspect the quarters, and it’s to be secured until then.’

      ‘What?’ said Dog. ‘What the hell is going on here, Sergeant?’

      ‘Sir, Captain Freah didn’t explain.’

      The sergeant wasn’t being disrespectful, but it was clear from his demeanor that he wasn’t going to yield.

      ‘Is Ms. Gleason inside?’ Dog asked.

      ‘No, sir.’

      Dog controlled his anger – though just barely. ‘Do you know where she is?’

      ‘No, sir.’

      ‘Carry on, Sergeant,’ he said, turning on his heel. He walked back to the entrance of the building, resisting the temptation – again just barely – to grab a radio from one of the security detail and radio Freah. He walked outside and started toward Taj when he saw two black SUVs approaching with their blue lights flashing. Danny was in the lead truck – sitting behind Cortend.

      ‘Captain Freah,’ said Dog as the door to the truck opened. ‘A word.’

      Dog took two steps away from the walk and turned.

      ‘Why are Jennifer’s quarters under guard?’ asked Dog.

      ‘She, uh, the investigation turned up some questions.’ Danny spoke as if he’d just been to the dentist to have a pair of wisdom teeth pulled – and needed to go back the next day to have the other set removed. ‘Apparently, there were some conferences arranged by the Department of Energy that Jennifer neglected to fill out the proper forms on.’

      ‘What?’

      ‘I looked through the records myself.’

      ‘That’s what this inquisition is about? Paperwork?’

      ‘Technically, it’s a violation. At least. I have to check into it –’

      ‘Do so,’ snapped Dog, turning angrily toward the building.

      Danny grabbed his arm.

      ‘What the hell, Captain?’

      ‘Colonel, we go back a bit, and I have a lot of respect for you. Tremendous respect, sir.’

      Dog looked down at Danny’s hand, which was still grasped around his shirt.

      ‘You can’t interfere,’ said Danny. ‘You can’t – you can’t do anything that will look like favoritism.’

      Dog continued to stare at his captain’s hand.

      ‘You can’t interfere, Colonel. I’m talking to you man to man. Right now – if there’s a security break.’

      ‘There wasn’t.’

      ‘That’s really not for you to say at this point. Don’t you see?’ Danny finally let go. ‘You can’t interfere, especially where Jennifer is concerned. You’re only going to make it seem as if there’s something to hide. It’ll be worse for her.’

      ‘Worse than what?’

      ‘Just

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