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sir." Moyer understood the unspoken words. Much of contemporary military operations were based in technology. The army with the best tech always had an advantage.
    "Where did it come down, Colonel?" Rich put all the jokes aside.
    "It hasn't. Not yet, but we know the general area. I will reveal that in a moment. First, Major Scalon will fill in the basics for me."
    "Yes, sir." Scalon moved two steps forward, not in front of the monitors, but just far enough so the team could see him. "Part of the Joint Space Operations Center at Vandenberg Air Force Base in California's mission is to monitor everything of importance in space. Space has become more crowded than most people know. They keep an eye on more than one thousand active satellites and nearly four thousand inactive satellites or rocket debris. All told, they watch close to sixteen thousand objects; most moving at five miles per second."
    Crispin whistled. "That's . . . what? About eighteen thousand miles an hour?"
    "That's right, Sergeant. If we count smaller objects, there are close to half-a-million bits of debris over our heads. An aluminum object the size of your fist carries the same kinetic energy of fifteen pounds of TNT. Imagine the kind of damage something the size of a Buick could do." Scalon rocked on his heels for a moment. "On average, there are seventy-five possible collisions every day. When a collision occurs, the satellite usually bursts into pieces. To give you an example, on February 10, 2009, a busted-down Russian communications outpost called Cosmos 2251 collided with one of our Iridium 33 communication birds. It knocked out some phone calls and left more than two thousand pieces of debris."
    "So this happened to Angel-12?" J. J. asked.
    Scalon shook his head. "There are similarities. It was a deactivated Chinese satellite that did the deed, but this time it was no accident."
    "They intentionally rammed us?" The idea infuriated Moyer.
    "We think so. There's been no public discussion of this, of course, but behind-the-scene talks have been revealing. The Chinese claimed they were attempting to park their satellite in a graveyard orbit."
    "A what?" Rich said.
    "Most satellites orbit in geosynchronous paths 22,400 miles above the earth. Dead or out-of-date devices are pushed to a slightly higher orbit where they won't present a danger to other satellites."
    Moyer spoke. "But you suspect the Chinese are lying."
    Scalon nodded. "Their satellite was inactive for more than two years. Why the sudden concern about its location? I suppose we'd buy the story if the thing hadn't changed course. It didn't bump into our equipment; it targeted it."
    "So we're out a bird?" Rich said. "Won't it just burn up in the atmosphere?"
    "Good question. With almost any other satellite, the answer would be yes, but Angel-12 has been hardened."
    "Hardened?" Moyer said.
    "On January 11, 2007, the Chinese shot down a defunct Fengyun-1C satellite using a 'kinetic-kill vehicle,' an unpowered projectile. They scored a direct hit, shattering the satellite into three thousand traceable pieces. One of the things that keep guys like me and my superior officers awake at night is facing an enemy who can shoot down our satellites. Imagine a war in which only one country has eyes in the sky. We'd be fighting like we did in World War II while facing a twenty-first-century enemy."
    "So by 'hardened' you mean Angel-12 is up-armored." Moyer kept his gaze on Scalon.
    "Yes. It's a new, lightweight armor you don't need to know about." Scalon inhaled deeply. "Pieces of space junk have made earth-fall before. In 1997, a Delta II fuel tank landed in the yard of a home in Georgetown, Texas. In 2001, a titanium motor casing from a Delta II came to rest in Saudi Arabia. Fortunately, it hit the desert and not a city. Most objects that fall from space burn to ashes; those that don't, land in the ocean or in unpopulated areas. Angel-12 will do the same."
    J. J. shifted in his seat. "Do we want to know