Derry cleared his throat. "Unidentified aircraft, we are United States Navy fighter planes to your rear. You are approaching a quarantine zone and you are hereby ordered to identify yourself and turn your aircraft immediately to a westerly heading, over."

Ryan heard the call repeated twice more by Derry and shook his head. He assumed this object wouldn't feel threatened by their two small aircraft. As he approached, a large and jagged hole was increasing in size at the rear of the saucer.

"Derringer, looks like this thing has had a hole punched in it."

"Vampire, stay in place with your finger on the trigger, we may have a... a... Well, something's in distress here. That's damage of some kind. I'm going to get a closer look."

Ryan watched as Derringer's F-14 started its advance toward the giant saucer. He nudged his throttles forward just a little; he knew his wingman would never notice. He watched his flight leader's Tomcat as it approached from the rear. The huge jet wobbled from wingtip to wingtip as it was caught in the saucer's vortex.

"Vampire, there's a situation on board that craft. It looks like they're venting something, you seeing it?"

Ryan saw what looked like some form of liquid as it streamed from several smaller holes in the craft's aft compartments.

"I'm seeing, just not believing," Ryan answered.

Men were speaking in quiet tones as they watched their screens. It seemed the temperature had risen ten degrees in the last few minutes as they waited for incoming information. Most of them had never felt this helpless.

"What have we got here, Derringer?" Hams asked. Static was the only answer he received.

Suddenly an enlisted man said loudly, "Captain on deck!"

Harris turned to see the captain of the Vinson leaving his marine escort outside as he entered the darkened Combat Direction Center. His stern expression told Harris that the captain was deeply concerned for the safety of his ship.