Forrester heard the ragged intake of Ronnie’s breath behind him. The Starlifter retracted its stairs and the engines wound up to a shrill whine; she made a ponderous turn and rumbled down the pavement. Forrester got out of the car and stood by the fence to watch the big jet gather speed and lift off. She banked sharply to the southeast and climbed into dusk, wingtip lights blinking with lonely distance.
Spode knew what was in the canisters Belsky had carried aboard. Belsky’s orders were obvious: Moscow didn’t want the Illegals alive.
Spode glanced at Forrester’s wide back before he turned in the seat and spoke softly to Ronnie. “He can’t help you but you can help him.”
Her eyes shifted toward him. “What?”
“You can get him off the hook, Ronnie.” Spode backed out of the car and left the driver’s door open.
Forrester was still watching the darkening sky that had swallowed the jet. Spode opened the rear door and reached in to take Ronnie’s arm. She came out of the car obediently and stood trembling, hugging herself. Spode murmured, “Go on, Ronnie.”
“I don’t—”
“On the run.” He said it gently but his face was hard.
Forrester was beginning to turn back to the car when he heard the starter mesh. A door slammed and he wheeled and then the Lincoln was curling past with its back wheels spinning for purchase. He had a glimpse of Ronnie’s face, white, wide-eyed, and then the car was out on the road gathering speed, the headlamps snapping on.
He took an involuntary step, and felt Spode’s grip on his arm. The tail lights disappeared at the bend and Spode’s grip locked tight, arguing with him. “You’ve got to let her go.”
The fever hit him then: a chill and a hot flush that prickled his skin, a dizziness, bright red flickers before his eyes, a trembling weakness against which he had to lock the muscles of stomach and arms. When the spasm passed he felt faint and very cold. His head was very heavy when he turned to lay his baffled stare on Top Spode.
A jetliner was taking off from a far runway with a ripping racket of power. Spode said, “They’ll find those dead men in the silos. Better get to a phone.” His face was a graven mask that gave away nothing of his feelings. “You’ve got to call the President.”
Ronnie’s anguished face was burned into his consciousness. When Spode’s hand dropped away he locked his fists together. I could get her back.
Back to what?
They walked toward the cars abandoned by the end of the runway. He didn’t speak until they had reached the Oldsmobile. Belsky had left the walkie-talkie on the seat and the key in the ignition. Forrester pulled the door shut and Spode started the car and aimed it toward the lights of the terminal where the telephones were. A small plane came in low overhead, landing, sliding through the airport lights.
Finally he said in a sighing gust of breath, “All right, Top.”
Washington, April 9 (UPI). Pentagon spokesmen said the Air Force still has found no explanation for the crash of the cargo plane seen to plummet into the Gulf of Mexico Sunday night. It was disclosed today that the C-141 Starlifter jet was on a training flight from an Arizona base, but the Air Force has declined to make public a list of crew or passengers, pending notification of next-of-kin.
The crash was witnessed by the crew of U.S. Coast Guard cutter Perseus about 2 A.M. Monday in waters 100 miles west of Key West. Crewmen reported that the plane appeared to be in a spin for no clear reason; there were no flames evident before it crashed into the sea.
The plane had taken off on a flight from Davis Monthan Air Force Base near Tucson, Ariz. Personnel of the were not available for comment, since the base has been closed and temporarily sealed for a routine Operational Readiness Inspection.
Washington, April 10 (AP). The President announced today that the Defense Department has ordered a sweeping reappraisal of the proposed Phaeton Three multiple-war-head ICBM system
The President declined to comment on whether agitation by Sen. Alan Forrester (R.-Ariz.) was a deciding factor in his decision. But a high white House source conceded the step is a solid victory for Forrester.
Senator Forrester, in seclusion in Washington because of a minor virus, was unavailable for comment. But a press release from his office said he was very pleased with the President’s decision.
“But we’re going to keep fighting until we’ve brought all our intercontinental defense systems under control,” Senator Forrester’s statement added. “None of them is immune to the dangers of accidental discharge or organized sabotage. Under existing controls, a small group of dedicated fanatics could easily set the world on fire.”
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
copyright © 1971 by Brian Garfield
cover design by Mumtaz Mustafa
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