the e-2 is vectoring us into an intercept with the 747 now. estimating contact in thirty-eight minutes. anxious faces look up and then the team returns to packing and preparing equipment. travis, near the cockpit, is busily typing on a satellite transceiver unit, a high-tech computer phone unit, housed inside a black aluminum case. he enters a command and a small plastic strip, a magnetic code key, emerges from a slot. he closes the case, motioning for grant.
target acquisition, twenty-five miles and closing. initiating approach system. stand by. the men quickly stow their equipment, putting on their closed-circuit communications units, consisting of headsets and microphones. cahill nervously motions to travis, and grant to approach the cockpit.
target sighted, initiating approach on infra-red. they move forward into the cockpit.
may have enough fuel for one more pass. we should break off, find the tanker and refuel. your call, colonel, but make it quick. travis looks back at baker who consults his tac-board. he shakes his head, no. travis turns back to the pilot.
all right, hold on.
extend the sleeve. cahill, now seated at his work station beside the hatch, activates a lever, the sound of hissing air as the hydraulic pumps are switched on.
i have the target. prepare for link-up and lock. on the screen, the target grows closer as the pilot 'lands' the plane into the belly of the 747. the pilot's voice cracks over the speaker.
engage! auto-pilot on. cahill instantly pulls a lever, the sound of powerful suction-pumps being activated, filling the cabin.
what the hell.
load on the sleeve increasing.  jesus, they're climbing! he grabs the stick.
everything okay down there?
roger. formation this is bulldog. we have radar contact, turning zero-six-zero for contact. initiate weapons systems check now. notify me on visual contact.
csa flight 343. this is flight leader, u. s. navy aircraft. you are approaching united states air space. you are to divert immediately to three-seven-zero north for gander air force base. if you do not comply, we are ordered to open fire.
 repeat, you must divert to 0370 immediately, or we will open fire. squawk 433 for acknowledgement.
jesus christ. what the hell are they doing? they can't mean that. he turns to the terrorist.
we have to respond. you heard what they said. the terrorist points his pistol at the pilot.
my, god, no.
it's a presidential order, spider, there must be a damned good reason for it.
formation, this is bulldog. i'm assuming attack position, everyone else back off and stand clear. climb to thirty-five thousand.
nav com, this is bulldog. i have missile lock. request final confirmation of orders, over.
roger, nav com. stand by.
the nav-lights just came on. suddenly the lights begin to flash, on and off, on and off, in a steady sequence.
spider, is that what i think it is?
nav com, this is bulldog. we have an unusual communication from the target.
bulldog. seems to be morse code coming from the navigation lights. message as follows: 'hail mary.  ten minutes.' message repeats. over. stunned, kaplan drops into his seat.