CHAPTER FOURTEEN
8:35 p.m. Eastern Standard Time
The Skies Above the Atlantic Ocean
“Are you guys ready for this?” Luke said.
“Born ready,” Ed Newsam said.
“Back in the saddle,” said Mark Swann.
The six-seat Lear jet screamed north and east across the night sky. The jet was dark blue with the Special Response Team seal on the side. Ahead of it was nothing but darkness. Behind it, fading fast into the distance, were the bright twinkling lights of the United States of America. Far below, the ocean was vast, endless, and black. Luke gazed out his window—he couldn’t see anything but a blinking light on the wing.
Inside the plane, Luke and his team easily fell back into old habits—they used the front four passenger seats as their meeting area. They stowed their luggage and their gear in
