The late-afternoon sun flared off the hot asphalt as Lieutenant Jerah Ash guided the jeep to a manned barrier on the edge of the airport. In the rear of the jeep sat Aaron, Safiya, and Rachel, while Lucy Morgan sat next to Ethan, guzzling water from bottles and gorging on Israeli Army ration packs.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Ethan said to Lucy. “You need a hospital.”
“Like hell,” Lucy shot back between mouthfuls. “Do we know if they’ve taken off yet?”
Ethan shrugged as Lieutenant Ash signaled to the guards manning the barrier and drove through. As they reached the gates where rows of private aircraft were parked, Ethan could see several large jets with towering T-tails, shiny white fuselages, and chrome fittings.
Lieutenant Ash stopped and climbed out of the jeep to scan the airfield for one aircraft among dozens.
“There, that one,” Ethan said, spying a distant sleek jet with a blue MACE logo emblazoned across the fuselage. “It’s taxiing out right now.”
Lieutenant Ash nodded, keying his microphone and speaking quickly. Ethan didn’t wait to hear what he said, leaping instead into the driver’s seat and gunning the engine as the MACE jet taxied to the edge of the runway.
“Hey!” Lieutenant Ash shouted.
Ethan barely heard him as he accelerated directly toward the runway, yanking the wheel to avoid clipping the tails from a line of parked training aircraft.
“Jesus, Ethan!” Aaron Luckov shouted. “Take it easy!”
Ethan ignored his friend as he forced the jeep into a hard turn around one plane, the tires screeching on the tarmac and the chassis shuddering. Ahead, the whine of the MACE jet’s engines suddenly climbed to a deafening roar, the jumbled city horizon behind it blurring in clouds of heat.
“They’re taking off without clearance!” Lucy shouted, hanging on desperately in the rear of the jeep.
The jet suddenly sprang forward as it released its brakes, accelerating down the runway.
Ethan turned the jeep, mounting the taxiway with a thump before surging onto the open grass alongside.
“That’s a twenty-five-ton aircraft!” Rachel shouted as she realized what Ethan was about to do. “Are you suicidal?”
Ethan turned a pair of cold, gray eyes to her. “Almost.”
Rachel sat back in silence. The jeep bounced violently as it left the grass verge and skidded onto the dark tarmac of the runway. Ethan struggled for control of the jeep as it swerved into the path of the oncoming jet, wrestling the wheel back into his grip and steering the jeep to the edge of the runway and leaping out.
The Gulfstream jet roared toward him, a cloud of translucent brown haze billowing behind it as it accelerated. Ethan dashed to the center of the runway, the Sig pistol in his hand as he took aim at the undercarriage of the jet rushing toward him and filling the sky. Ethan aimed carefully and fired three times, the sound of the pistol drowned out by the roar of the jet’s turbofan engines.
The second bullet punctured the left nosewheel tire, the third piercing the right as the jet swerved violently. As the Gulfstream thundered past in a crescendo of jet blast, Ethan hurled himself to one side, rolling and looking back to see the plane’s air brakes pop open and the thrust-reverser buckets close over the engine exhausts.
“She’s disabled!” Ethan shouted, as Lieutenant Ash jogged breathlessly to the edge of the runway, joining soldiers in two other vehicles as they accelerated in pursuit of the rapidly slowing jet.
Ethan leaped back into the jeep as the Gulfstream taxied off the main runway and came to an ungainly halt nearby. The three vehicles converged on the aircraft even as the boarding steps unfolded and three men scrambled out in a desperate attempt to flee.
“Freeze!” Lieutenant Ash bellowed, drawing his pistol and aiming it at the men. “Hands in the air!”
Ethan watched as the crew members came to a standstill and were surrounded by a dozen armed troops. Lieutenant Ash waved two of his men forward, and they cuffed the crew before leading them away. Ethan looked up the steps of the aircraft, and then at the lieutenant. Without hesitation, the Israeli officer led the way into the interior.
The jet had been heavily modified, with plush leather couches and a minibar, but none of that interested Ethan as much as the large crate lashed down in the center of the fuselage. Lieutenant Ash checked the consignment numbers on the side.
“Listed as medical supplies and equipment,” he said. “The package is for a private residence