“You need to get out of bed.” I rip the sheet off him.
I glance at the clock again. The big hand advances. I don’t know how much time we have, but I don’t think it is much. The attack will happen this morning and none of the planes are ready. I look back at Bill. He is sitting up, but hasn’t got dressed yet.
“Get up!” I scream.
The note of hysteria in my voice frightens me. Bill jumps at my outburst. The snoring stops abruptly as everyone in the room is suddenly wide awake looking groggily in our direction.
“Bill, shut your girlfriend up. We’re trying to sleep.”
I ignore the pilot and focus my attention on Bill. He has reluctantly pulled his trousers on over his white shorts. I’m trying to formulate a plan, but all that is running through my mind is that we are out of time. I picture
