37
Taz was amazed that it had worked.
Her first call after the Ghostrider crash in Avalon harbor had been to locate the other two AC-130Js.
Her second had ascertained that there was no training flight planned tonight for the one at Andrews Air Force Base.
The third had been to file a new training order—to be manned by a very different crew.
Base security had worried her. But apparently their IDs weren’t registered as dead yet, so it had been a simple matter to get to the plane. Then she’d almost blown it by nearly stepping in front of General Gray, ducking into the Ghostrider’s interior shadows at the last second. That had been too close.
Now she stood in those shadows and watched the two men at the weapons control console.
“But what happens when you’re in nonstandard flight configu
