"Unidentified craft bearing northwest. You are in restricted airspace. I repeat, you are in restricted... holy shit!"

Captain Mark Hayes banked left as fast as he could, trying madly to avoid the distant speck which suddenly grew to fill his entire cockpit window and then darted away, all in a matter of seconds.

"Holloman Control. Holloman, this is Panther. Do you read me? Over!"

"Panther... we do not show unidentified craft on radar. You are the only one up there. Over."

"The hell I am!" Hayes shook his head and he angled his fighter upward to follow the strange speck, its silvery sheen nearly lost in the dim evening light. "Climbing to forty thousand. I'm telling you, he's right in front of me. And he's fast!"

"Captain, have you been drinking?"

Hayes blinked at the sound of the Colonel's voice. Just his luck that Mitchell would be in the tower. "No sir. He's not showing on my radar either, but he's right there, sir. I'm staring right at him."

Some eight miles below, Colonel Mitchell took a deep breath, rubbing his nose as he watched the single blue dot blink on and off with each sweep of the array. Thunderclouds had been moving in, making the radar contact somewhat touch and go, but that didn't explain why he could see Mark's fighter perfectly well and yet this other craft was as good as invisible.

"Terry, get me White Sands."

"Yes sir."

Mitchell chewed his lip until the sergeant came back with a phone hanging by one hand and a receiver by the other.

"This is Colonel Mitchell at Holloman? Who am I speaking to?"

"Major Chase. What can I do for you, Colonel?"

"Are you folks running tests over my property?"

"Uh... no sir, we aren't running any tests today."

"No rockets flying."

"No rockets, sir. No nothing. Why?"

"Never mind," Mitchell let the receiver drop back into its carriage. He didn't have time for a long explanation. There was only one thing this bird could be. Russian.

"Panther, can you hear me?"

"Yes sir, I read you loud and clear. Over."

"Has the unidentified craft responded to radio?"

"No sir. He just slowed down and he's hanging right in front of me."

"Does it look like one of ours?"

"No sir. He doesn't even look like a plane."

Mitchell took another deep breath, hoping like hell he was about to make the right call. "Okay, Captain. I'm directing you to unload."

"Sir?"

"You heard me. Fire everything you've got."

"Yes sir."