I leaned forward. Despite the snow, I saw a small vehicle on the horizon. "It's alone. Must be a straggler."
"Good," Beverly said. "It'll give us a chance to test our guns."
I reached into my satchel and pulled out my binoculars. "That's going to be tougher than it looks. They've spotted us." I pushed the lenses close to my eyes. "Aaron prepared for everything. His men are getting out missiles. Anti-aircraft missiles."
Chapter 101
Beverly snatched the binoculars from me and raised them to her face. "Those aren't ordinary missiles. They're laser-guided shoulder-launched surface-to-air missiles."
"What's the difference?" Graham asked.
"They're extremely easy to use. Once they're in the air, the operator uses joysticks to aim lasers. The missiles fly along laser beams until they hit their target. It's like a video game."
"Can we jam their signals?"
"Unfortunately, no. The missiles don't use data links."
"Do the operators have to keep a bead on us for the lasers to work?"
"Yes, it's a manual process."
I glanced at Graham. "Think you can evade their lasers?"
"I hope so." He gripped the control stick. "Hang on."
The aircraft's nose turned upward. We started to climb into the sky.
"What are you doing?" Beverly called out.
"Gaining altitude," he said. "The snow's still plenty thick. If we get high enough, they won't be able to see us. And if they can't see us, they can't hit us."
The aircraft rose higher and higher. Then Graham shifted the control stick, sending us zooming to the side. Moments later, a couple of smoke trails appeared to our northeast. Within seconds, the wind swept them out of existence.
"Nice move," Beverly remarked. "What're you going to do for an encore?"
"How do you feel about fireworks?" he asked.
"Theirs or ours?"
"Ours."
The plane's nose dipped downward.
"Need help firing the guns?" I asked.
"Nah." He shook his head. "The controls are at my fingertips. Those bastards are mine."
He tilted the Amerika-Rakete toward the ground. We shot forward at tremendous speed.
Beverly lifted the lenses back to her eyes. "I see seven people. They're loading missiles." She breathed deeply. "Maybe we should rethink this."
"Almost there." Graham pushed the control stick. The nose dipped at a steeper angle.
I stared through the canopy. The snow-covered ground was coming up much faster than I'd expected. "Dutch …"
He shifted the control stick again. "Just another second."
We shot through the air, heading at breakneck pace toward a fatal collision.
I braced myself. "Dutch …"
The plane jolted. Gunfire spat out of the cannons. Decades-old bullets stitched the ice. The soldiers reeled backward. Their arms and legs shot out in crazy angles. Then they collapsed into the snow.
"Nice aim," Beverly said. "You got them. Now, how about we straighten this thing out?"
"I'm working on it," he shouted.
We picked up speed. The ground got closer and closer. Forces pressed on my body. They thrust me deeper into my seat. They pushed my cheeks toward my ears. I found it difficult to keep my eyes open.
The Amerika-Rakete rumbled. The nose tipped upward. The pressure intensified. My eardrums popped.
The nose eased into a horizontal position. We zoomed at high speed, less than a hundred feet over the ice.
I inhaled through my nose, exhaled through my mouth. It felt like a giant block of ice had been lifted from my chest.
Graham let out a long breath. "Wow."
Beverly's shoulders sagged. "I didn't think we'd make it."
"Neither did I."
We gained some altitude. I took the binoculars back from Beverly and looked out of the canopy. "I see a truck and a Sno-Cat."
"Which way?" Graham asked.
"Northwest of here. They're moving at a decent clip." I paused. "I see another truck ahead of them. It's parked."
The rocket jolted. Our speed started to drop. "Something's wrong," Graham said. "We're losing altitude."
"But their rockets missed us," I replied.
"This thing is seventy years old. We're lucky we got it off the ground." Graham studied the landscape. "Where should I put her down?"
An idea formed in my head. "Near that truck we just passed."
Beverly gritted her teeth. "Try not to crash, okay?"
He made a strange face. "Quick question for you."
"What's that?"
"How the hell do I land this thing anyway?"
Chapter 102
"Are you sure we're straight?" I shouted. "It feels like we're tipping to the right."
"That's because we are," Graham said tightly.
I leaned my head back and stared at the falling snow. We were losing altitude at a dizzying pace. And the lack of a proper runway didn't make me feel any better.
Graham pressed a button. I heard a rush of wind. "Landing gear deployed," he said. "Not that it'll help much on this surface. You might want to brace yourselves for impact."
The ground came up quickly. I steeled my body just as the rocket struck the ice. It jolted in furious fashion. Then it bounced and started to slide. We slid for a long ways before the Amerika-Rakete settled into the snow.
I let the air out of my lungs. "You did it."
Graham's hands remained locked on the control stick. "Was there ever any doubt?" he said dully.
I pulled the lever next to me. The canopy sprung open. Icy air and snowflakes careened against my face.
I unbuckled my seatbelt. Then I pulled myself out of the seat and dropped to the ground.
I ducked my head and rolled. Springing to my feet, I helped Graham and Beverly exit the rocket. Then I took out my binoculars and stared across the landscape. In the distance, I saw the parked truck and the seven dead bodies.
"I hate to leave her here like this." Graham gave the rocket a forlorn glance. "What if someone tries to take her?"
"I doubt that'll be a problem." Swiftly, I hiked across the snow.
I recalled everything I'd seen, everything I'd heard, everything I'd sensed. My body was on the verge of exhaustion. But anger boiled deep within me. It pushed me to keep going.
Beverly hurried to catch up with me. "Where do you think they're going?"
"Back to where this all began." I pointed north. "To the Ekström Ice Shelf."
Chapter 103
The mighty Ekström Ice Shelf, framed by thick snow and curling waves of water, stood proudly before him. Jenner allowed a small smile to cross his face as his Sno-Cat pulled to a stop. It was more than just a scenic ice cliff. At that particular moment, the shelf felt like a finish line at the end of a particularly grueling race.
He opened his door and stepped outside. A brisk wind sailed past him, causing a flurry of snowflakes to jump into the air. The swirling snow surrounded him completely. It felt strangely alive, as if it had weight and form.
He walked toward the shelf. The swirling snow followed him like a pack of bees. He tried to wave it away, but it refused to leave.
Behind him, he heard the second truck pull to a stop next to the first truck. He looked around for the third truck but it was nowhere in sight. He scowled under his breath. What was taking them so long?
Men — his men — exited the vehicles. They were in good spirits, laughing loudly and carrying on like college kids. Anger welled up inside his chest. "Form up," he shouted. "I want to be moving crates in ten minutes."
He shifted his feet. His foot plunged into space.
Jenner yanked himself away from the cliff. He stumbled a few steps before catching his footing. Then he glanced over his shoulder.