Chapter 4 - THE GRAB AND THE COMMAND
Recovering from the shove, Nash’s face twisted into an explosion of pure rage. Seeing a woman in an unbadged black fleece take total control of a classified combat console during an active emergency was an unprecedented breach of protocol.
"Security!" Nash screamed at the top of his lungs, lunging forward with both arms outstretched. "She’s taking the console! Get her off!"
He reached over her shoulder, his hands clutching the high collar of her oversized black fleece, pulling back with all his weight to drag her out of the operator chair.
The Incoming Commander ignored him entirely. She didn't try to break his grip, nor did she look back at him. Her entire body locked into a stance of absolute concentration, her eyes fixed on the glowing green track of Viper One-One.
Across the sprawling, tiered operations floor, nearby controllers, radar operators, and armed Air Force security personnel stopped what they were doing. Heads turned instantly toward the commotion at the primary combat station, watching in disbelief as the unknown woman in the black fleece sat motionless under Nash's aggressive grip, her thumb holding down the primary tactical channel.
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She pressed the transmit switch.
"Viper One-One," her voice cut through the radio system, completely devoid of panic, dropping into a low, icy, and authoritative baritone that resonated through every speaker on the floor. "Follow my voice. Turn now."
