63
Committed
Back at the safe house, Cade’s laptop chirped once as the small icon of a spinning globe turned green. The satellite connection blinked to life. A video window opened and Uncle Bill in the NSA Command Center said to someone off screen, “Are we on yet?” He looked at the monitor. “Cade? Jana? Christ, where are they? We’ve got to warn them!”
Standing in the safe house, just behind the monitor, was Richard Ames.
Uncle Bill said, “Look, if you can hear me. There’s something big about to happen. CIA has ordered an F-18 into the air. It’s coming your way, and it’s armed with the mother of all bombs. We’re tracking it now. Given the fighter jet’s current airspeed, flight time, and maximum range of that missile, we estimate you’ve got twenty-eight minutes. I’ll repeat that. Time of
