“You do your part and I’ll do mine,” he said. “That’s how we achieve mission success. That’s how we finally make history.”
Brenda Adelman-Zamora knew that the Deputy Director was right, but she pouted anyway. “At least tell me how long I have to wait. When can I expect good news?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” Her eyes brightened and she licked her lips. “We’re that close?”
He nodded, suppressing a smug grin that was like a baby bird trying to break out of its egg.
“Is our candidate on his way already? I mean, he’s in the air and coming home?”
“I shouldn’t say,” he whispered as he flashed her a wink.
“Do you promise . . . tomorrow?”
“There are no promises in covert operations. You know that already. But confidence is high.”
“Good.” She spun her wedding ring on her finger. “I want you to update me as soon as you have some news.”
He nodded.
“You’re going to make a brilliant CIA Director. Think of everything we will do together.”
He nodded again.
“Who knows? Maybe you’ll go higher. Like the next Director of National Intelligence. How would you like that?”
“One step at a time.”
“I can’t believe it’s finally happening,” she said, reaching down and squeezing his inner thigh. “After all these years, it’s finally happening.” She leaned in to kiss him.
The Deputy Director turned his head and removed her hand from his thigh.
“I’m sorry,” she said, looking away. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“Don’t apologize, Brenda. It happens when an operation reaches its climax. People get excited.”
“I’m not regular people,” she insisted.
“Everyone responds differently under stress,” he said.
“I still shouldn’t have done that.”
“No, you shouldn’t have,” he said. “Not here.”
71.
HOMESTEAD AIR RESERVE BASE, FLORIDA
FRIDAY, 9:56 P.M.
She’d never seen anything like it before.
“Here she is,” said the young man proudly. “The latest Sikorsky S-97 Raider.”
Jessica eyed the helicopter, a shiny black beast with a narrow nose like a shark. She, too, in a skintight black flight suit with black combat boots, looked like an animal ready to attack.
“Actually,” he whispered, “this baby is the S-97 Raider X2. Experimental prototype.”
“I’ve flown Black Hawks, Apaches, and Little Birds. Even an old Huey.” Jessica tried to hide her childish excitement. “But I’ve never seen her. What’s with the double rotors?” she asked, pointing to the two sets of rotor blades stacked on top of the fuselage.
“Yes, ma’am,” said the Air Force lieutenant, who Jessica thought had barely started shaving. “The main rotors spin in opposite directions, which negates the need for a tail rotor. Instead, you have the propulsion propeller at the back. It gives the Raider a shitload of velocity.” The lieutenant suddenly looked embarrassed. “Pardon my French.”
“What’s her speed?” she asked.
“Cruising speed is 235 knots.”
Jessica’s heart raced with anticipation.
“That’s almost twice as fast as a conventional helicopter, ma’am.”
“So where’s my pilot, soldier?” Jessica asked, looking around an empty airfield.
“Tampa, ma’am.”
“Excuse me?” she scowled.
“We don’t have pilots here at Homestead who are cleared to fly the Raider. We’re just an Air Reserve Base. This helicopter isn’t even officially here.”
“I need to be airborne right now!” Jessica demanded. She knew that a missing pilot would derail the whole plan.
“Yes, ma’am. I was told you were a chopper pilot.”
“That’s right. But never a bird like this one.”
“The Raider controls are similar to the Black Hawk. This X2 version is configured for a single pilot or can be piloted remotely.”
“Remotely?” She narrowed her eyes.
“You’ll be flying it with a copilot at MacDill Air Force Base up in Tampa.”
“My copilot is with SOCOM?”
“I don’t know, ma’am. Could be Special Operations Command. Could be regular Air Force. Could be . . . another part of our government. That information is way above my security clearance. I only know that your copilot is briefed at MacDill and ready to go. You’ll communicate through the headset. I’ll show you.”
Jessica opened the door of the Raider and climbed into the pilot’s seat. It smelled like a new car.
The lieutenant began pointing out the various cockpit controls. “The navigation and flight controls are all based on the Black Hawk layout. The pilot at MacDill will handle most of this, but here’s how you control the rotors. The pitch is here. And your secure comms are over there. And here,” he said, pointing to a bright red switch above her head, “is how she goes into stealth mode.”
“Stealth in a helicopter?”