The captain frowned at her. “I’ll fly up myself if I get confirmation about this.”
“No time. Fay, keep an eye on them.”
Morgan ran up the stairs. Grant dogged her footsteps. At the top she turned to see him right behind her.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m coming with you.”
“No, you’re not.”
“What if you get vertigo up there? I’ve got a helicopter license. I can’t take off in one of these things, but I could keep the stick steady if you black out.”
“I’ll handle it.”
“Are you willing to bet the future of the country on that?”
She pursed her lips.
“I know what you have to do up there,” Grant said. “If they won’t land, there’s only one other way to bring them down.”
“That’s why I don’t want you there.”
“That’s my best friend we’re talking about. If you have to ram them, I want to be there to make sure Tyler doesn’t die in vain.”
She paused, wrestling with the decision, but he could tell she knew he was right.
“Okay,” she said grudgingly. “Get in the front seat. I’ll fire up the start cart.”
As Grant climbed in and squeezed into the pilot’s helmet and parachute, she ran back down the stairs and gestured frantically at Fay, who waved her gun at the two pilots when they didn’t respond quickly enough. Morgan ran back up the stairs and got in the rear cockpit seat.
“I told Fay to get the pilots to release the start cart once the engines are powered up. She’ll also get them to retract the stairway.”
They closed the canopies and strapped in. Grant kept his hands off the controls. The instrument panel was ten times more complicated than the light helicopter he flew.
The engines rumbled to life. He cranked his head around. The APU was pulled away, as were the stairs and wheel chocks. He gave the V-sign to Fay, palm out. She returned the gesture.
Grant thought they didn’t build them that tough any more and had to correct himself. The woman sitting behind him was the real deal, too.
Morgan released the brakes.
“Time to intercept?” Grant said.
“Can’t say. Even using afterburners, it’ll be close.”
Morgan informed the tower to clear all air traffic because she was taking off no matter what the controller said. A minute later the T-38 screamed down the runway, and Grant wondered if he’d ever touch the ground again.
FIFTY-SIX
Although the Lodestar carrier plane shaded the sun, Tyler had an expansive view of the horizon for 180 degrees around him thanks to the unorthodox window design. If he were prone to acrophobia, he’d be catatonic by now.
Tyler explored the limits of his restraints, but it was no use. The bungees were too tight to get any leverage against the belts. Zotkin had been very thorough, taking everything Tyler had on him, including his Leatherman.
He breathed in the smell of the Skyward’s interior through the slit in his helmet, a scent that smelled oddly like a car fresh off the factory floor, no doubt due to the newly installed upholstery. The tiny hole kept him from suffocating, but it did nothing to cool him down. He was already drenched with sweat.
Judging by their climb angle, he guessed they would hit the fifty-thousand-foot launch altitude in another five minutes.
“You okay?” Tyler whispered to Jess so that he wouldn’t be heard over the muted engine noise. He could see her struggling to no avail.
She gave him a plaintive look. “We’re going to die, aren’t we?”
“Not if I can help it.”
“What can we do? I’m trussed up like a turkey. Can you get out?”
“I’m trying.” He pulled again. This time he was able to move his arms up just a little. He tried twice more, but he’d reached his maximum range of motion. Unless he could figure out a way to loosen the belts, he was stuck.
Colchev had stripped out of his original flight suit and was now getting into the Icarus suit. It was somewhat bulkier because of the attached parachute and small oxygen tank. If Tyler could somehow break free, he’d at least have the advantage in mobility.
In situations like this, Tyler had one rule: doing something was better than doing nothing. He’d start by talking. He found it helped to get inside the mind of his enemy.
“I know what you’re planning to do, Colchev. You’re going to leave the Killswitch on here and jump out. Won’t work. We’ll both be in freefall. You’ll just float next to us outside the spaceplane until the bomb explodes.”
“Wrong.” He didn’t elaborate, but Tyler didn’t really think he was that stupid. Colchev was probably going to do it the other way around, dumping the Killswitch overboard once the timer was set, then using the rocket to put some distance between him and the explosion before bailing out.
At least that’s how Tyler would do it.
“Are you sure Icarus even works?” he asked.
“It was designed by top Russian engineers.”
“That’s what I mean.”
Colchev smirked at him. “Don’t forget that we were the first country into space. First satellite. First cosmonaut. First space walk. And now America rides on Russian rockets to the space station. I trust this parachute more than I trust this spaceplane.”
Tyler tried a different angle. “You can’t shoot us in here, you know. The bullets might rip through us and penetrate the hull.”
“True. If you’re worried about how you’re going to die, I’m planning to make it easy for you. Instead of letting you scream in terror as the disabled Skyward plummets back to Earth, I’ll just leave your suits unplugged from the environmental system. When I decompress the ship, you’ll fall unconscious and simply fade away. Much more pleasant.”
‘That’s very kind of you.”
“I’m not a monster.”
“Even though you’ve killed a dozen people already and you’re planning to kill thousands more?” Jess said.
“Soldiers are given medals for killing men while trying to take some godforsaken hill somewhere. I killed men on the way to resetting the global order. Which is more justified?”
“Yeah, you’re a regular hero.”
“One country’s villain is another’s hero. George Washington may be a hero in America, but to the British he was a vile traitor. If the colonies had lost the war, the city of Washington would be named Kingsville. It will be the same with me in Russia.”
“Colchevgrad?” Tyler said. “Not very catchy. There’s one other thing I’ve been wondering. How did you know about the cave on Easter Island? You didn’t have Fay’s relic to guide you there, but somehow you ambushed us.”
Colchev looked at them in amazement. “You really don’t know?”
“Know what?”
“About Dombrovski.”
“I know Dombrovski was the one who made the connection to the Nazca lines.”
Colchev shook his head and chuckled. “You Americans can keep secrets. Dombrovski was the one who originally brought the xenobium from Tunguska to the United States in exchange for asylum. He’s the one who created Project Caelus for the US Air Force. That’s why he was trying to find another source of xenobium.”
“Project Caelus?” So Colchev had additional information about Dombrovski’s secret project that Kessler hadn’t shared with them. Colchev must have had access to the records that the Soviets stole.
“It’s funny how we know more about it than you do,” Colchev said. “Dombrovski was obsessed with two things: Project Caelus and his second wife, Catherine. I suppose she became his fixation after the death of his first wife and daughter in Russia, but then Catherine died as well. Every morning he would visit her grave and then go straight to his lab.”