And supposedly heading towards the Russian president’s plane…
He had to act. But what could he do?
Jason looked at his air search radar. Sure enough, there was one contact about one hundred miles ahead. At the rate they were closing, they would be there in mere minutes.
Jason pushed forward his thrust lever and hit his afterburner. His F-16 accelerated forward at close to twice the speed of sound. He would be almost out of fuel when he reached it, but he had to try and warn them.
The Russian presidential aircraft was a four-engined beast. A wide-bodied IL-96. Jason buzzed it from the front, passing only two hundred feet away.
That must have grabbed their attention. He then pulled and banked hard, arcing his nimble fighter to a position just off the right wing.
Jason flipped a few switches and then fired a burst of machine gun fire well ahead of the Russian aircraft. The tracers were clearly visible against the blue water below.
Now they knew he meant business. He wasn’t sure what kind of homing system the other aircraft was using, but he knew enough about dogfighting theory to know that if the Fend aircraft missed the Russian presidential plane on the first pass, that was it. Game over. There wasn’t enough of a speed advantage for the Fend aircraft to get a second chance.
Jason was already on the guard radio frequency. Time to make his call.
Max heard the voice over the radio and smiled.
“Russian aircraft approaching the United States, this is US Air Force armed F-16. You are about to be attacked by an incoming commercial drone aircraft. Begin evasive maneuvers immediately to avoid collision.”
Maria and Morozov both looked shocked. Then Morozov’s face turned to rage as he looked at the radio transmit button, which was depressed into the full detent. He realized that their entire conversation had been played to the American fighter jet. Morozov’s wrist muscles flexed as he gripped Renee tighter. She let out a cry.
All of their eyes turned to the radar screen on the wall. The two air tracks were so close, heading right for each other… about to converge.
But they didn’t.
The Fend 100 continued on in the opposite direction. The Russian Federation presidential aircraft turned sharply and changed altitude.
Maria could see the aviation stats of each aircraft being displayed on the board. “It didn’t hit. The Fend 100 missed it.”
“Put down your weapon, Pavel,” Max said.
Morozov’s eyes were on fire now, his nostrils flaring. “It seems that you have changed my plans. But your aircraft is still at risk. All those people will die if you don’t regain control of the Fend 100. So let us bargain, Max Fend.”
“Let’s.”
Morozov pulled Renee up close. “Maria is the only one who can save the people on that aircraft now. If you don’t have her, they’ll run out of fuel and crash into the ocean.”
Max wondered if Renee would be able to analyze and interpret the data on this computer system in time. Unknown. He needed Maria alive.
Morozov began backing away toward a doorway in the corner of the room, holding Renee in front of him. He was heading to the garage.
Max could hear the FBI men on the floor and behind him, a groan from the stairway.
“Leave Renee,” Max said, “and I’ll let you go.”
Pavel Morozov’s eyes narrowed. “Done.” He pushed Renee towards Max, raised his gun and fired three times.
Max caught Renee and covered her with his body as he returned fire through the closed doorway.
Max ran towards the door, but it was locked. He fired his weapon into the door handle. Wide holes formed and wood splintered. Max kicked the door open and burst through into the garage.
He fired into the fleeing SUV, hearing the sound of an engine revving up and the squeal of tires as Morozov peeled out of view, making his getaway.
But Max didn’t have time to worry about him. He ran back towards the computers laid out in the kitchen, glaring at Maria.
She had been shot in the arm.
“Fix this,” Max said to her, his weapon trained on her head. Sympathy for her gunshot wound wasn’t something he had in him.
Maria nodded and began typing with her good hand, wincing in pain.
He glanced back at Renee. “Are you okay?”
Renee nodded. “Yes, I’m alright.”
“I need you to watch her, Renee. Make sure she’s really doing what we want her to do.”
Renee stood behind Maria, who was typing slowly into one of the terminals.
Max said, “Turn it around now, and give control to the pilots on board.”
Maria nodded, flustered and upset. She typed in a command, dragged her mouse, and began clicking a few times. “There. They should be able to control it now.”
“Call them on the radio and tell them.”
Maria did as requested. “Fend 100, this is…” She paused, not sure what to say. Max grabbed the radio. “Fend 100 on guard, you should have control of your aircraft now. Please respond.”
After a moment, the radio came back with, “This is Fend 100 on guard. Flight controls are now responsive. Declaring an emergency and heading to the nearest suitable runway.”
The ambulances and police cars arrived moments later. The EMS crews provided treatment for the FBI men. Both ended up okay.
The one who was hit in the Kevlar vest had two broken ribs. The one who was facedown and bleeding from a gunshot in the kitchen had lost a lot of blood, but was stable.
Max walked up to Maria as she was receiving treatment under police supervision. “What made you do it?”
She didn’t answer. Just kept her head down, looking at the ground. A few minutes later, the FBI arrived and took custody of her.
Special Agent Flynn flew to the scene, courtesy of the FBI HRT helicopters.
Max said, “Have you found Morozov?”
“Not yet. But we have agents and local police scanning the area. Roadblocks are set up all over for fifty miles around. And flights are still grounded. He’ll turn up.”
The FBI drove Renee and Max back down to Jacksonville. They had a prolonged after-action report to complete with the local FBI office. Then they were cut loose in time for dinner. Max invited Renee to his father’s house in Ponte Vedra.
“You think you’re ready to take me home to your father?” she said with a wink.
“I’m ready for more than that.”
“How about a beach vacation? I know a nice quiet spot in Georgia — near Jekyll Island.”
Max grinned. “In all seriousness, you did great. Thanks for all the help.” He leaned in and kissed her.
“Thanks. You too.” She was blushing.
Dinner that night was a busy affair. Charles Fend, understandably, had to work much of the evening. He had invited many of his company executives to his home. They could manage the public affairs nightmare from there. Max and Renee sat by the pool, sipping on cool drinks and watching the sunset.
When the night finally wrapped up, and the majority of his employees had left, Charles came and sat down with them. He sipped on a glass of scotch and looked at his son.
“Your mother would have been proud.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“And you, dear. If there is ever anything I can do to repay you for saving the lives of all those men and women on my aircraft, you just say the word.”
Renee said, “Your son has already promised me a job.”
Charles looked at Max. “An excellent hire.”
Max said, “What will happen to the automated flight program?”