Two hundred twenty miles away, three jet-black stealth planes carved racing stripes through the sky. Each was cocooned in several layers of lead-lined, sonar-resistant steel and fiberglass to deter any electronic, sonar, or other signal broadcasted around the planes. Even the bottom of each one was coated in a reflective coat, so that all eyes from below could see was a glint in the sky.

Inside the plane at the head of the triangle, a pilot squawked a conversation out with Griggs.

“Converging on location in approximately three minutes. Pilots, sweep high and don’t make any broadcasting signal.”

“Under no circumstances may the terrorists know you are coming,” Griggs agreed. “Just to be safe, I would deploy about two miles away from the university. Out of sight.”

“Roger that,” said the captain in muffled static. “Terminating ground transmission.” And with a flick of the wrist, Griggs was cut off.

One hundred sixty seconds later, five dark figures dropped from the planes. The raveners had arrived.