The two navy fighters made a slow turn to the south and climbed.

The Combat Direction Center on the Carl Vinson was darkened to the point where the outlines of the operators were cast in a multicolored, luminous veil caused by the screens they monitored. On one of these screens was an air-search radar patch-through from the USS Shiloh.

"Still nothing?" Lieutenant Commander Isaac Harris asked.

The radar specialist adjusted the bandwidth on the monitor and looked over his shoulder at his commanding officer; a confused look crossed his features. "Comes and goes, sir, first solid, then nothing. Then on its next sweep it's there, big as a barn, and then vanishes."

"Diagnostics?" Harris asked.

"Clean, Commander, and Shiloh also reports their equipment is working fine, everything is up and to spec."

Harris rubbed his chin and straightened. "This is damn strange." He leaned forward and asked, "Heading change?"

"Negative, course still holding on a line to Vincent," the technician answered. By this time a few of the other radar, sonar, and communications operators were leaning back in their chairs and watching with mild concern. Harris squeezed the young man on his shoulder and turned to his station, a large red-vinyl-covered chair raised on a pedestal so he could see the entire floor of the CDC. He lifted the red bridge phone that was mounted on the chair's side and waited, looking hard at his operators until they all returned to their screens.

"Captain, this is Harris in CDC, we have a developing situation in our defensive perimeter." He waited a moment for the captain of the Carl Vinson to respond. "Yes, I recommend the Alert One aircraft to be launched and bring the battle group to battle stations."

Up on the massive flight deck, an announcement squawked: "Stand by to launch Alert One!" The message was repeated, and then came a call that brought everyone above and belowdecks to their feet running: "General quarters, general quarters, all hands man battle stations, all hands man battle stations, this is no drill, repeat, no drill." On catapult number one, with its locking gear removed, the pilot saluted the plane captain on deck who was in control of the launch.