The cult leader stood, holding the angel in one hand. He turned — and saw the Englishman rushing at him like a cannon shell—
Eddie hit the window — but it didn’t break.
The entire panel popped out of the frame with a crack of ripping rivets, the impact propelling it across the cabin to hit Cross like a transparent bulldozer blade. He flew backwards, the rifle spinning from his hand.
But Eddie’s swing came to a premature halt when he slammed against the window. The cable jerked from his grip. He dropped, the backs of his thighs hitting the edge of the opening — and pitching him backwards out of the cabin.
Pure instinct saved him from a long and fatal fall as he bent his knees to slam his heels back against the inside of the wall, hooking his legs over the sill. He jolted to a stop, hanging upside-down from the gondola’s side.
He was anything but secure, however. Pain burned through his hamstring tendons as the angular metal edge ground against them. He flailed his arms, searching desperately for a handhold, but found only smooth aluminium and empty air — and he could no longer hold his position, his own weight pulling him downwards—
Someone grabbed his ankles. He squinted up at the window — seeing a familiar face with a halo of wind-blown red hair looking back.
‘Eddie!’ Nina cried. She pressed herself against his legs to hold them in place and stretched an arm out to him. ‘Eddie, grab my hand!’
‘No, get back!’ he shouted. ‘It’s too dangerous, you’ll fall out!’
She took a firm hold of the window frame with her other hand and leaned out further, determination clear in her voice. ‘I’m not letting you go. You’ve got diapers to change, mister!’
Somehow Eddie managed a crooked smile. He strained to bend at the waist, raising his arms towards her waiting hand. ‘Come on, come on!’ Nina cried, stretching out further. Their fingertips brushed… then hooked together, husband and wife gripping each other as hard as they could.
She leaned back, pulling him upwards. He managed to get hold of the window’s sill with his free hand and hauled himself upright, his legs finally sliding down into the cabin. There was a red-painted handle set into a recess above the window where the gondola was attached to the envelope. He reached for it, wanting a firmer handhold as he lowered himself inside, but then made out some warning text above it: PORT SIDE ENVELOPE RIP — DO NOT PULL EXCEPT IN EMERGENCY. He hurriedly reconsidered and gripped the top side of the window frame instead.
With both hands now secured, he worked his lower body through the opening. ‘Are you okay?’ Nina asked as his feet touched down.
‘Yeah,’ he gasped. ‘Thanks.’
‘If I’m going to be a good mom, I want support from a good dad!’
They both smiled, then Eddie looked back outside. They were now directly over the crowded plaza, the Secretariat Building looming ahead. ‘We’ll turn this thing out over the river—’
‘No!’
They both looked around at the shout to see Cross back on his feet. He was clutching the angel — and had retrieved the rifle, pointing it at them. He sidestepped to the door, raising the statue ready to hurl it to the ground. ‘“There will be no more delay!”’
His finger tightened around the trigger—
Eddie’s hand snapped up — and pulled the emergency handle.
The results were literally explosive.
On a smaller airship, the envelope would have been ripped by physically tearing away a cable embedded in the material; a craft the size of the Airlander, however, required something more powerful. A line of detonation cord ran the length of the port lobe — and it took only a split second for the controlled explosion to slice open a gash in all the helium compartments.
A hurricane of escaping gas blasted out, the airship rolling as it lost buoyancy on one side. Eddie was flung back through the window, swinging from the handle with only the grip of his fingers keeping him from falling. Nina shrieked as she was thrown against the wall, one hand snatching a ceiling strap as her other stretched out to grab her husband’s legs.
Cross staggered as the floor tilted beneath him. He dropped the rifle and tried to catch a seat, but too late—
He hit the bulkhead beside the door. The statue flew from his hand. He clawed at the door frame as he toppled out of the cabin and managed to halt his plunge, hanging on by his fingertips.
The airship’s roll worsened, venting helium gusting over Eddie as he hooked his ankles back over the window frame. Below, the Secret Service had finally created a cordon large enough for Marine One to land, the helicopter touching down to pick up President Cole. Cross’s target was still in danger, Nina realised. ‘The angel!’ she cried, pulling her husband in as she tried to spot the statue. ‘If it falls—’
It was on the floor — and rolling towards the opening.
‘Eddie, hold on!’ she cried, releasing him and diving for the angel. She snatched it up just before it tumbled out into the void—
A hand grabbed her wrist.
Nina shrieked as Cross tugged at her arm, his right hand in a death grip on the door frame as he tried to drag her through the opening. The plaza circled beneath him, the deflating airship banking into a turn. ‘Give me the angel!’ he snarled.
‘No!’ She jammed a foot against the bulkhead, but Cross’s weight was drawing her inexorably towards the open door.
‘Why?’ he shouted over the wind. ‘Why are you protecting this corrupt world?’ Another tug, and her foot slipped back, only her toes holding her in place. ‘What’s in it that’s worth saving?’
Nina tried to pull away, looking down at him over her stomach. The sight of the small bump gave her a sudden surge of strength… and an answer. ‘My daughter!’ she replied, smacking the statue down hard on his right hand.
Bone broke with a flat crack. Cross yelled, losing his grip and swinging away — but he still had a firm hold on Nina’s arm, dragging her after him—
Eddie grabbed her, pulling her back. She gasped in pain as her shoulder joint took the cult leader’s full weight.
But Cross did not give up, still struggling as he tried to dislodge her. ‘“The hour of judgement is come!”’ he roared. ‘“Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord!”’
‘You want blessing?’ Nina yelled back. ‘Bless this!’
She slammed the statue back down against his clutching hand.
The force of the blow hurt her wrist — but the pain Cross felt was far worse. He cried out, straining to maintain his hold…
And failing.
His hand slipped over hers. One last desperate grab at her fingers, then he was gone, reduced to a dot in moments as he plunged towards the plaza. He screamed all the way down, people below scattering as they saw him fall—
On to Marine One.
The helicopter was on the ground while President Cole and his closest staff were bundled aboard, its main rotor spinning just below take-off speed. Cross plummeted into the whirling blades — and was reduced to a wet haze, what little remained of him spraying out over the aircraft and across the plaza.
Nina grimaced as she saw Marine One’s white livery turn crimson. ‘Jesus!’
Eddie drew her away from the door. ‘Red, white and goo,’ he said — in a high, duck-like voice. He had inhaled some of the escaping helium, affecting his vocal cords. ‘Buggeration and quackery! That’s not right.’
She embraced him. ‘Are you okay? Apart from the voice, I mean.’
‘I’ll live. What about you?’
‘Same. For both of us.’ She put a hand on her belly. ‘This has so not been good for my cortisol levels.’