“We’re starting to pick up some fire,” Major Mark Henderson’s voice remained absolutely calm. “Request permission to engage.” It even sounded as if he was looking forward to it. As pilot of the second DAP Hawk, he’d be flying as backup wingman to his wife commanding the primary rescue bird.
The President and Frank looked at each other. The situation was escalating. G-B military forces had finally noticed that there were helicopters circling overhead. Hard to miss, even if they would have trouble locating them. The airport’s radar should be useless against the stealth modifications. They would appear as flickers no bigger than a large bird, and never quite in the location where they actually were.
The problem was that most of the anti-electronic warfare defenses they carried, the ones tha
