Page 111 of Kai
“Stay inside,” I said to Cece when she materialized next to me, struggling to put on her coverup.
I grabbed my carbine, loaded a fresh magazine, and rushed outside, just in time to recognize the ominous roar of an aircraft coming over the ridge.
Chapter Thirty-five
Kai
The small plane glided over the ridge’s crest and dropped in altitude, flying due west across the cove, casting a shadow over the reef, and then banking a wing and veering north.Fuck. My gut squeezed a warning. Legit pilots didn’t work this way. I quickly put together a scenario where this could happen without triggering my alarms. For Cece’s sake, I hoped I was wrong, but I had a feeling the setup playing in my head was right on.
The slider swooshed open, and Cece ventured out. “This can’t be good,” she murmured, her face grim. “Did they find us?”
“The shield is holding, and I don’t have any evidence the Cessna’s pilot saw us,” I replied, tracking the little plane. “At least not on this pass.”
“Is it looking for us?”
“Highly probable.” I shouldered my carbine as I lost sight of the plane behind the northern cliffs. “Let’s find out.”
I grabbed her hand and marched us back to my navigation station, where I bent over the keyboard and pulled up surveillance data from all of my system’s sources.
“I don’t understand.” Cece frowned. “How come your alarms didn’t go off?”
“Excellent question.” I tapped on the keys as fast as I could. “Someone must have disabled the Cessna’s transponder. I also have to assume that the four-seater has been flying under the radar horizon.”
“What does that mean?” Cece asked, her frown deepening.
“It means he’s flying ‘nap-of-the-earth,’” I explained.“The pilot has maintained an altitude of less than a hundred feet throughout his approach, taking advantage of the curvature of the earth to hide from radar detection.”
“So, whoever is piloting that plane set out to trick your radar?”
“Not only mine, but all regional radars.” I pointed at one of my screens. “There are no signs of the plane’s flight path on any of the radars I’m monitoring.”
It was another clue that supported my worst-case scenario theory.
I pulled up images from my surveillance cameras and got a live visual of the little plane as it turned south at the tip of the island and flew over the coast on the other side of the ridge. I could still hear its sputtering motor. It sounded like a motorcycle in the sky.
I pinged the Cessna with a virtual geolocator and assigned four cameras to track its movements. At least now I had eyes on the threat. Rewinding the footage, I homed in on the camera concealed at the summit, where the plane had made its crossover. Sure enough, the camera had recorded the Cessna as it flew by.
I tapped my keyboard and activated my AI system.
“Bellator, activated,” a smooth, masculine voice announced, the sound of BB’s advanced AI system. “Identify, please.”
I punched the keys and typed my identification code.
“Identification authenticated,” the bot announced. “Bellator, ready.”
“Bellator,” Cece murmured behind me. “It means ‘warrior’ in Latin.”
“Correct,” I muttered. “Bellator, rewind camera seven’s footage for analysis. Replay the last five mikes in slow mo.”
“Rewinding, now,” the bot said. “Preparing playback.Replaying.”
The moment Cessna’s propeller entered the picture, I ordered. “Pause the feed now.”
“Feed paused,” the AI complied.
“Enlarge image,” I said now that the camera had a better angle on the cabin.
“Enlarging image.”
