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The time-zone jump worked out. Flipping back from daytime living to nighttime flying halfway around the world from Vermont, Trisha slept that day and flew that night.
Sweep patrols. Nothing special. But she flew. For once not jumping ahead of the flight line, instead she told Dennis and Max how she did it—and now they all surged ahead in unison. Many nights they sat in the ready room for hours, all dressed up with nowhere to go as the drones swept over the endless sea. Other nights they worked back and forth around the Horn of Africa checking boat after boat, several were indeed those of night fishermen. Others had heard enough about the patrols to throw their weapons overboard to avoid the risk of having their engine shot off and their leader killed. “Oh no, we’re merely innocent Som
