Odin’s voice came in over McKinney’s headphones. “Let’s hope One was right about these things not having eyes on the back of their heads.”
In a moment Singleton’s voice came over the radio in response. She hadn’t seen him down at the camp, but he was evidently there. “They’re a Spartan, single-use platform. Their targets are all below them. Eyes above would mean they’d need software to interpret what they’re seeing in a different context. It wouldn’t be justified.”
Odin nodded. “Thanks, One.”
Behind him the loadmaster readied the first pallet with the folded tentlike object on it.
Foxy’s voiced crackled. “Tailhook, this is Foxy. We are deploying the interdiction bag. Get ready for some drag.”
“Copy that.”
Odin motioned for McKinney to stand back, and he moved against the wall next to her. A moment later the small drag chute deployed, pulling the folded bag pallet toward the emptiness beyond the cargo door. In a moment it tipped off the edge and started unreeling steel cable that quickly pulled taut on the concrete pallet. The securing straps there snapped tight.
McKinney saw the loadmaster checking the cable assembly. He gave a thumbs-up. On Odin’s handheld screen, a night-vision image showed the interdiction bag open like a parachute canopy at the end of a curving, one-hundred-meter length of steel cable behind the C-130.
The loadmaster radioed the pilot. “Interdiction bag deployed. Tailhook, you are GO for interdiction.”
The pilot’s voice came over moments later. “TOC, interdiction bag deployed successfully. We’re moving in to capture.”
“Copy that.”
From this distance it looked like the bag was pathetically small. McKinney decided to edge closer to the ramp alongside Odin. He gave her a brief glance, but she was busy taking in the fantastic view. She could also see the drone more clearly from this vantage point. It was only a hundred or so meters back. It looked even less impressive up close, with perhaps a twenty-foot wingspan. She could hardly believe all this ruckus had been caused by this jury-rigged hobby aircraft.
The drone seemed to be inching back relative to the billowing containment bag, the pilot maneuvering it into position. The bag was aerodynamically stable, apparently due to small fins on its side. Hoov was watching the scene intently as he manipulated a handheld joystick. It occurred to McKinney that he must be controlling it.
The whole team watched in tense anticipation.
The pilot’s voice crackled. “Fifty meters.” A pause. “Thirty meters.”
In the green night-vision camera image the unsuspecting drone eased back toward the bag.
The pilot’s voice came over the radio. “Odin, we’re just three miles to Target One. Altitude ten thousand feet.”
“Just keep it steady.”
On-screen the drone pulled up slightly, and a voice came over the radio. “Bomb in! Bomb in! Target Two has deployed ordnance.”
Odin spoke. “JOC, you’ve got ordnance inbound. All personnel take cover.”
Singleton’s voice came back with a siren wailing in the background. “Copy that, Odin.”
The drone began to climb steeply.
The pilot’s voice. “Pulling up. Keep it in the box. This fucker’s climbing fast.”
Odin motioned for McKinney to get back and followed behind her toward their seats. She heard his voice in her headphones. “We need to bag it, Tailhook. You’re running short on time.”
“We’ll get it.”
The men in the cargo bay grabbed for handholds as the plane lurched upward, chasing the drone up into the sky. Suddenly the entire view through the open cargo bay was of the dark badlands below. Tin Man started sliding back, and Foxy reeled him in by his monkey cord.
Meanwhile, behind them the plane was managing to gain on the drone and center it back into the maw of the bag. The team in the cargo bay watched intently—and in a few moments the drone disappeared, enveloped by the bag.
“Bingo, TOC! Bogey’s in the bag! Repeat bogey’s in the bag!”
McKinney and Odin looked to each other.
The bag was edging sideways, and then the drone suddenly started taking evasive maneuvers. McKinney realized there was nothing to stop the wild drone from hurtling forward a couple of hundred meters into the cargo bay and exploding—taking them all out.
The pilot’s voice came over the radio. “This thing’s going nuts.”
Odin waved to the crew. “Deploy the deadweight!”
“Stand clear!”
She saw the loadmaster kick the quick-release on the pallet of concrete that formed the deadweight. It whipped along the rails from the drag of the interdiction bag. The huge block tumbled off into the night, and the bag fell down and behind with it.