“Please do. This is our only confirmation so far,” Mark replied, excitedly.
“Message continues to say ‘Grass area cell belongs to U.S. Citizen Ford A. Stevens. Firehouse area cell phone belongs to Chinese Citizen Wu Lee. Second phone, Liu Nie, registered to Chinese Telecommunications Company. Then, Deputy Burns added ‘Keep up the good work’.”
“Well, this will be beastly,” Emily turned to Robert and Mark.
Just as Muddy finished reading, Mark’s cell phone, connected to the ship Wi-Fi, vibrated. He took it out to see who the text was from.
Ford: NATS.
Ford crouched down and ran as fast as he could from the grass depression to the Devil Dragon. It was purring loudly with its engines at idle, no lights visible, and looked much smaller to him than the B-1 that he was used to walking up to. Wow, this is a freaking cool jet. He approached the jet from the left side, hoping to see Wu in the pilot’s seat, and saw a figure sitting there with a helmet on, but could not make out Wu’s face. Ford had to remember that he would look a bit different since he last saw him in person due to the weight loss, and was ready for the shock of seeing his best friend suffer.
Ford stopped his run and crouched down on a knee before going any closer. He lifted his right hand and crept around in his left shoulder zippered pocket for two yellow foam ear plugs. The sound of the Devil Dragon was deafening and he would need them before going any closer. He squeezed them and placed them inside each year. Only waiting a few seconds for them to expand in his ear canal, it enabled him a few moments to look at the jet from afar. Ford was, no doubt about it, impressed with the look of her. It was sleek looking, aerodynamic, had unique curves to the entire fuselage, and two air intakes that shoved the air into the four engines. It looked like a hybrid between the U.S. Lockheed F-117 Nighthawk and SR-71 Blackbird.
Wu saw Ford and started waiving his hand in front of the canopy to come closer. Ford ran across the wide open ramp, and stopped under the jet. Just prior to climbing the vertical ladder that extended down from the cockpit, behind the nose gear, Ford stood and looked at his phone on last time. He typed out a fast text to Mark, and hit send.
Mark: METS
Maybe seven minutes went by since she landed, and Ford was finally reaching the inside the cockpit. Wu was unbuckling and ready to turn around and get out of his seat, when unbeknownst to anyone, Liu had finished his business in the bathroom at the firehouse. Liu stood in front of the open firehouse doors, hands on his hips, and watched the dark figure run from out of nowhere, wave to Wu, and then stop under the jet. That’s strange… who the hell is that? Liu thought. This is most peculiar. Liu then saw the glow from a cell phone for about five seconds, put it away, and the guy climbed aboard into the jet. That’s my aircraft! he said to himself. Liu was incensed with anger, wondering who the heck knew they were there, and who would know enough to climb aboard. Liu started to make his way over to the Devil Dragon.
“WU, IT’S ME, FORD, BUDDY!” Ford yelled, as he reached the top of the ladder and entered the cockpit. Wu had already placed the parking brake on the jet, and was out of the pilot’s seat and waiting to hug Ford. They embraced a quick and tight hug. Ford noticed the noise was not as loud up in the cockpit, and could talk at near normal levels. It was hard to see though, since the cockpit lighting was set for night flying and dim.
“Hi, Ford. So very happy to see you. Thank you,” Wu told him, putting his hand on his shoulder. “Take this seat and this helmet. We gotta go right now. We don’t have much time.” Wu climbed into the left seat.
Ford looked around in the cockpit, saw the glow of the glass instruments, and put one leg on the co-pilot seat on the right and held the helmet and mask with his left hand. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement from the hatch area in the floor, the cockpit entrance. Someone else was climbing aboard the jet? he’d said to himself. Unexpectedly, it was Liu coming back from the firehouse.
Liu had already swiftly bustled up the ladder and into the cockpit, and wished he had his QSZ-92 pistol on him. In his right hand, though, Liu had his Gerber LMF II combat knife, sharp with a 4 7/8 inch blade and six inch handle. Liu pulled back with his arm to strike at Ford, attempting to stab him, and Ford pushed off the co-pilot seat with his leg and jumped to the side to avoid the blow. Liu attempted to thrust forward again, and Ford, completely startled, blocked his thrust with the flight helmet.
“WU, START TAXIING. GO! GO! NOW!” Ford yelled.
Liu was astounded that this man in the cockpit knew Wu’s name. Remarkable, he thought. Liu again went at Ford, this time connecting with Ford’s left shoulder, giving him a good slash through both the Velcro and flight suit material. Ford was bleeding through the flight suit, but not enough to cause him to stop fighting. At that instant, Ford had to make a decision. It was either his life was going to be taken, or this co-pilot’s, because this guy wasn’t letting up.
Ford’s college football skills came into play when he decked Liu to the cockpit floor like he was a red-shirted sophomore. Ford was now on top of him, striking him in the face with his fists, and pinning his left arm that held the knife. Liu lost his grip of the knife, and both men felt the jet move out of its parked position as Wu taxied the jet for takeoff. Repeatedly punching, Ford could see with his peripheral vision down the cockpit hatch to see airport pavement going by. Liu was able to get his leg around Ford and throw him off. Ford and Liu were both on their feet again, and Ford went after him by placing his leg behind Liu’s, then pushing him over. Liu fell backwards in the rear of the cockpit, and Ford took advantage of him being down once again. Ford went over to attempt to throw him down the cockpit hatch opening, but Liu was too fast, and scampered out of the way.
Ford took out his pistol and pointed it at Liu, but the wild Devil Dragon taxiing by Wu from the firehouse tarmac to the runway made Ford lose his balance. The fast and hard turn forced Ford into the cockpit bulkhead, and he dropped his P226 handgun on the floor near Liu. SHIT! Ford immediately thought. Liu immediately picked it up, and started firing rounds at Ford.
Because they were taxiing and in motion, firing a handgun accurately in a closed space was a chore. Ford was lucky as each fired round missed him, and if he correctly counted, three rounds came out of the weapon so far. From the front cockpit, Ford could now hear Wu yelling in agony. Wu must have been hit! Ford was able to push Liu’s firing hand down towards the floor in the chaos and taxiing, and hold his arm with one hand and bang on his forearm with the other. Out came the weapon from Liu’s hand and on to the floor again. Ford attempted to grab it, but accidently kicked it off to the side with his boot with the movement of the aircraft. Ford used his body weight again to get Liu down on the ground. Liu was now on his back, and his head was towards the open hatch, with Ford punching his face continually with his fists. At a minimum, Liu’s nose had to be broken, along with dislodged front teeth, and based upon the blood Ford could see, Liu had to have some pretty good gashes on his face.
Wu was now on the runway, ready for an opposite end takeoff with the wind at his back instead of at his nose. His toes were pushed forward on the rudder pedals, stopping the jet completely.