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Hilo International Airport, Hilo, Hawai‘i

The pilot Rivers chose for the mission was the best he had in Hawai‘i, or maybe anywhere: Colonel Chad Raley.

He had first served under Rivers during the Second Gulf War, and five years ago, when Rivers had risen to chairman of the Joint Chiefs, they had worked together again. That mission, off the USS Nimitz in the Arabian Sea, was to “deter,” as Raley put it, aggression from Iran.

“We did that—deterred it,” Raley said, removing his sun-glasses.

He looked the part of a top gun: Tall, broad-shouldered. Silver crew cut. Blue eyes that were so light, they were close to the silver of his hair.

Raley had volunteered to come to Hawai‘i before Rivers had even explained why he needed him.

A man of few words,Mac thought. No—a man of almost no words.

“So, you’re my copilot today,” Raley said.

“More like a newbie bombardier,” Mac said.

“You ever flown in one of these things?”

“Only in my dreams.”

“The general isn’t all that thrilled with you going up with me,” Raley said. “But he says you know more than anyone on this island about where these bombs need to go.”

“If they need to go,” Mac said. “We don’t need volume today. Too risky. We need pinpoint accuracy.” Mac grinned at Raley. “He told me you were the man.”

Raley said, “I am the man.”

Ten minutes later, they were in the air. Raley banked the Eagle to the south. The flight plan took them up the middle of the island so they could quickly assess the situation on the ground.

As the lava came into view, Mac thought: This is a fool’s errand. So I must be a fool.

“I know you’re the volcano guy,” Raley said through his aviation respirator. “But from what I see, not a whole lot of time before the lava reaches that cave.”

Before Mac could answer, Raley said, “And I know all about those canisters, Dr. MacGregor. General Rivers told me.”

Mac looked down and to the east at the homes in Kaumana Estates between Saddle Road and Hilo. There had to be people down there who hadn’t evacuated. Had to be. The whole town couldn’t have left on those ferries.

Mac’s throat felt dry. He tried not to think that only a respirator protected him from the sulfur dioxide contaminating the jet’s ventilation system.

He had the latest projections about the flow of the lava from both Rebecca at the military base and Kenny Wong at HVO. There was too much lava heading for the Ice Tube. They’d have to split the flow into two fingers, west and east. If they could.

But east meant toward town; it meant destroying the homes below them and more innocent people dying.

Mac looked down at Kaumana Estates and thought of his sons again. As the day went on, he had been thinking about them more and more, then forcing himself to stop and focus on the job at hand.

“I know someone who lives down there,” he said to Raley.

The colonel didn’t respond. He was all about concentration. Raley got them low enough that Mac could even see the famous formation of lava known as Charles de Gaulle’s profile. The new stream of lava was past the unfinished road to Kona, relentlessly pushing toward Saddle Road and the Ice Tube.

Mac fought the urge to squeeze his eyes shut so he wouldn’t have to confront the scene below, the reality of it, the looming tragedy. But he couldn’t look away because he knew exactly what was about to happen, or what he and Colonel Chad Raley were hopefully about to make happen; there was no margin for error and no guarantee that what they were attempting would work.

Mac said, “If it gets much closer to the cave—”

Raley finished the thought for him. “Game over,” he said. “I get it.”

Mac took a quick look at his map, even though he knew where the bombs needed to fall. They had to split the lava even if that meant redirecting it toward Hilo.

He saw the lava angle slightly to the north.

Not enough space.

They had circled for a second look at the target area. Mac glanced down again at Kaumana Estates.

He prayed that the boy and his mother had left.

“Can you get me even lower?” Mac shouted.

He knew he was trying to buy himself a little more time before he had to make his choice.

Raley gave him a thumbs-up.

“I need to be sure!” Mac said. “I need to see!”

Then they couldn’t see anything because the vog blowing from the west swallowed them up.

And no one could see them.