Edge of Tomorrow (28 page)

After Hatch finished his assignments, he
reintroduced Syd to the group, this time giving a more detailed
description of her background and capabilities. He knew his orders
would not be questioned, but he wanted the team to accept Syd
because of her abilities and training, and the essential knowledge
she brought to the mission. When he finished, the team members all
looked at her and gave her thumbs up. They now looked at her with
great respect. She felt pleased that Hatch had done that—she wanted
to be accepted by the team. She also wanted to spend some time with
Shirley McNally and pick her brain on emergency medical procedures
aboard Shadow-3.

The building on the large screen was rotating
slowly as they discussed weaknesses in the structure, and best
attack lanes. Syd’s mind wandered to the night before as she
relived the intimate encounter with Hatch. She could still feel his
lips on hers—the taste of his mouth, cognac and cigar tastes
mingled—and his hand gently massaging her breast. She still did not
know how she had summoned enough will power to put an end to the
session when she did. Her nipples had been bursting and her body
tingling with desire. She had considered it too big of a gamble to
let it go further, even though Hatch seemed to be shedding his
guilt about the past. She had to be sure that he had more time;
and, of course, she needed to get to know the man better. It could
turn out that they were not really compatible at all. She had no
idea what his real value system was, or why he was so intent on
being an international vigilante.

“Syd, does this building look familiar? Syd?”
said Hatch.

Syd was jolted from her reverie.

“Sorry, Hatch. I was just thinking back. I
was there once. As you can see, no one can get close to the place
on the ground, which is what I was trying to do. I was hoping I
could get close enough for a shot at Hamad, but no such luck. The
door on the left was where I saw several people come and go. You
can see the parking lot they use further to the left. We should
monitor that door for awhile if you want a count, and see if Hamad
enters the building,” she answered.

The team was impressed when they thought of
her out beyond that fence with her sniper rifle, looking for a
shot.

“Good idea, Syd. We’ll start that
immediately. Marli, could you program the satellites to start doing
that now. Include this back door, too, just in case,” ordered
Hatch.

“You got it, boss. I’ll use the satellite
which you have in a stationary orbit over Tabriz. I don’t think I
need to move it to get what you want, but I’ll program a secondary
channel for this so the main channel can keep giving us a real time
image of the building,” answered Marli Carson, the MIT engineering
graduate.

Hatch wandered over to where Syd was sitting,
so she took the opportunity to ask, “I want to spend some time on
board Shadow-3 with Shirley. I need to get familiar with the
aircraft, and pick her brain, in case I really need to play medic,
God forbid!”

“Good thinking, Syd. When these guys come up
with some possible attack plans, I would like you to review them,
but that will take awhile. Shirley, would you take Syd to the bird
and give her a tour, and check her out on the comm system. She will
be monitoring several voice channels on the way in—and out. We need
to know what they’re saying in case they spot us somehow,” said
Hatch.

“Will do. Come on, Syd. I’ll show you
Shadow-3. Did you get a chance to see Shadow-5? I can’t wait to see
it! I hear it’s much larger than Shadow-3, with improved weapon
systems,” bubbled Shirley.

“Well, I had never seen anything like it. I
only got a quick tour because we had to leave for here, but I was
duly astonished,” said Syd as they exited the room and headed for
the hangar.

• • •

Syd thought Shadow-3 looked just like
Shadow-5, except it was somewhat smaller. Inside, the cockpit had
two seats, and the main cabin had four, one right behind the
cockpit on the starboard side, two amidships—one on either side—and
one aft on the port side. The latter would be Syd’s position on the
mission. There was a hatch door in the floor to the right of the
Medic seat, with a pulley directly over it attached to the ceiling.
Shirley explained that it was for dropping a line for either people
or materials, like supplies.

“Here, Syd, is your seat, and your system
console. I’ll only have time to teach you the comm subsystem, even
though all subsystems can be operated from any of the consoles.
Here, put on this headset and I’ll show you how to power up the
system and scan audio channels,” said Shirley.

After half an hour of practice, Syd felt
comfortable with her ability to handle the Communication Subsystem
without crashing the system—which she was told could not happen.
Then Shirley showed her where the medical supplies were stored and
discussed the use of each item.

“When a team is put on the ground, I go with
them, and take this medic field pack. You won’t need that on this
trip,” Shirley said. “Unless there is an unscheduled landing!”

“Has that ever happened?” blurted Syd.

“Only on purpose,” Shirley laughed. “So far,
no unscheduled ones.”

“When do you put people on the ground?” asked
Syd.

“Hostage rescue scenarios; anytime we need
firepower on the ground. Not all missions can be handled completely
from the air.”

“Do you have commando training, too?” queried
Syd.

“We all go through Sara’s training course in
Arizona before we’re allowed on a team in the field. I’m not a
trained sniper like you are, but I can handle a variety of handguns
and rifles,” she replied proudly. “And an MP-5, if I had to.”

“That course of Sara’s must be something
else!” remarked Syd.

“It is. You’re really in shape when you get
through with it,” she laughed. “A lot of aching muscles in the
beginning though.”

“Well, thanks for walking me through
everything. Unless you can think of something else I need to know
in the time we have, I guess we can go back and join the others,”
said Syd.

“OK, it’s almost lunch time anyway.”

• • •

During lunch in the large dining room where
they had eaten dinner the night before, Hatch announced that they
may be in luck. People seemed to be arriving at the target building
in twos and threes all morning, as if a meeting had been called.
Hamad had been identified as one of those in the building.

“This is both good news, and bad,” he
finished. “We have the occupants we want, but we have no idea how
long they will be there. They could all be out of there by
morning.”

“The mission planning—navigation, weapons,
target info—has been loaded into Shadow’s computers. We can go on
thirty minutes notice,” said Carl Price, the Chief Engineer. “I
checked all the systems and they are in the green.”

“What’s the timing of the mission,” asked
Hatch.

“Tabriz is 825 nautical miles from here, so
at 260 knots the flight time is around three hours and fifteen
minutes. Tabriz time is one and a half hours ahead of here, so
delta time over target is 4 hours and 45 minutes. For example, if
we left here at 1400, we’d be over the target at 1845 Tabriz time,”
answered Mike Brawley, the pilot.

“What’s the weather report,” continued
Hatch.

Brawley answered, “I wrote it down at noon.
Temperature was 92.6 degrees Fahrenheit, barometer 29.90, wind 3.73
miles per hour, and partly cloudy. We’ll keep a check on the way,
but the only thing that should change significantly is the
temperature. It will be a little cooler at 1845.”

“I would prefer more cloud cover, just in
case. Something to hide in if we encounter trouble. What time is
sunset?” asked Hatch.

Looking at his notes, Brawley replied, “At
1905. It will still be light when we arrive, which is good for the
attack. We can do it VFR. The end of visible twilight is 1929. Then
it will begin getting dark for our exit from Iran.”

“How long are we over Iran,” asked Hatch.

“Around 32 minutes, not counting the time
over the target. It’s 140 nautical miles from the Turkish border to
Tabriz,” answered Brawley again.

Hatch was silent, absorbing the information
he had received. Syd observed the people around the table watching
Hatch go through his decision making process. They all appeared
ready to do whatever he decided. Syd herself was apprehensive,
since she had never been on a mission quite like this one, and she
would not get a practice run. She hoped that all she would be
required to do is monitor voice traffic, which she felt confident
about.

Hatch finally said, “I did not want to rush
this mission, but I didn’t expect to get a windfall like we have—a
building full of them, including Hamad. Does anybody here have any
reasons which would preclude launching at 1400 today?”

Everyone shook their heads—ready to go.

“OK, we’re a go for two o’clock. Everyone go
suit up. Shirley, could you fit Syd out? You’re close to her size.
Those who are flying meet at the bird at ten minutes till two.”

Syd followed Shirley to her living quarters,
which were like a large apartment—bedroom, living room,
kitchenette, large bathroom with a walk-in closet. Shirley led her
to the closet and took a blue jumpsuit covered with a plastic bag
off the closet pole.

“This one is clean, Syd. Why don’t you try it
on for fit? If it doesn’t, I’ll run down to the storage room and
get a larger one. This one is a little loose up top for me, so it
should fit over your boobs all right,” she laughed.

Syd stripped down to her bra and panties and
stepped into the suit and zipped it up. It fit perfectly and felt
like a soft, suede body suit.

“What kind of material is this? It feels
wonderful!” said Syd, running her hands over her body.

“Nothing you’ve ever heard of. It was
developed at the Toy Master’s lab in Arizona. It’s fire retardant,
doesn’t tear, and is very hard to cut; but it breathes, so you
don’t get all sweaty—like in a wet suit, for example,” answered
Shirley.

The suit had flap pockets on the outside of
both thighs, and one over Syd’s left breast.

“You’ll need thin flying gloves and a pair of
jump boots. We’d better walk down to storage for those. My hands
and feet are small for my size, like my boobs,” Shirley
laughed.

• • •

The hangar door had been opened and Shadow-3
had been towed out onto the asphalt slab. Its door ladder was open.
The crew began assembling, all dressed in their blue jumpsuits, at
1:45 P.M. In addition to the crew—Mike Brawley, pilot; Sam Vickers,
copilot; Carl Price, Engineer; Sara, Defensive Systems; Hatch,
Offensive Systems; Syd, Medic—Marli Carson, John T. Blanchard, and
Shirley McNally were there to see them off. There were also several
ground crew personnel wandering around. Brawley and Vickers were
doing their walk around the aircraft with one of the ground crew
members.

Hatch approached Syd, and touching her elbow,
guided her a few yards from the others.

“How are you feeling, Syd?” he asked.

“OK. A little apprehensive, since this type
of mission is new to me. I don’t want to let you guys down,” she
answered solemnly. “But don’t worry about me. I’ve survived a lot
of pressure before.”

“I know you’ll do great! Well, let’s mount
up, the pilots have boarded.”

The crew entered the aircraft and Carl Price
closed and secured the door. Syd made her way to her station. She
took her gloves out of the pocket on her right thigh and pulled
them on. They fit like a second set of skin. The rotors were
beginning to turn silently. The silence of the powerful electric
motor, instead of the noisy gasoline engines she was used to,
seemed eerie to Syd. She sat down at her station and fastened her
shoulder straps and seat belt. She put on her headset with
boom-mike and heard the pilot say, “Liftoff in 10 seconds. Everyone
check in by the numbers.”

Each station had a number so that names did
not have to be remembered, or in case people swapped places: 1,
Pilot; 2, Copilot; 3, Engineer; 4, Defensive Systems; 5, Offensive
Systems; 6, Medic.

Syd could hear the numbers coming through her
headset as each station checked in.

When she heard Hatch say, “Five,” she said,
“Six.”

“Lift off now. Mission underway at 1359,”
said One.

Syd pushed the Power On button on her console
as Shirley had taught her. The screen came up with a menu and she
selected the choice which allowed her a look at the outside, as if
she were looking out a window in the aircraft. She could see the
hangar below growing smaller.

“OK, Three, go to
Full Stealth
,” said One.

“Roger, One, engaging
Full Stealth
,” answered the Chief
Engineer. “All indicators in the green. Transferring control of the
skin to you, Sara.”

“Roger, Three. I’ve got it,” answered Sara.
The skin was considered part of the Defensive System.

“Offensive Weapons checklist complete,”
announced Hatch.

“We’re at our cruising altitude of 10,000
feet, folks. It should be quiet for a couple of hours, but keep an
eye out for radar sweeps, Sara,” said One after a few minutes.

“Roger, One.”

Syd practiced slewing her screen so she could
see the outside at all possible angles: up, down, back, sideways.
It was like playing a video game.

She selected the local area aircraft control
channels and aircraft tactical channels and listened to them in
sequence for awhile, getting used to picking up phrases before the
channel selector automatically stepped to the next in the sequence
she had selected. It was going to be a long two and a half hours
before they reached the Iranian border.

• • •

“Heads up, people,” said Brawley. “Iranian
border five minutes away. How’s the skin, Four?”