Chapter 71
In the front of the plane, Joe watched a colorful palette of warning lights come on.
The plane had been overstressed. There was an issue with the hydraulics.
Worst of all the engines were overheating.
A condition pilots called overtemp. The Starlifter had been going too fast, for too long, at too low an altitude.
The engines were simply not designed to run at full power in the thick air for that length of time.
Saber One seemed to be dealing with the same problem. Thin trails of smoke now streamed from two of its four engines. It had slowed enough for Joe to think he could get past it at the next bridge. But with his own overtemp issue Joe had to reduce power.
It was a temporary fix. Damage had been done. Catastrophic failures were imminent. At the same time, they were only five miles from the control center. Less than two minutes at these speeds. One way or another that marked the end of the road.
The two jets roared along the water, whipping up the surface in a cloud of mist and spray that trailed them like a pair of water demons or angry specters.
They roared toward the Langqi Minjiang Bridge, one of the largest in China. The span between its great towers stretched over eighteen hundred feet. A gap of two hundred feet stood between the deck and the water. High enough and wide enough for the large jets to fly under with relative ease.
Joe could see the problem now. Saber One was going to stay along the deck. Their last chance to make up ground would never happen. The Chinese command hub lay on an island two miles beyond the bridge.
The planes thundered closer. Joe willed Saber One to climb, but it stubbornly clung to the river, blocking him. He had no choice. He shoved the throttles to full, gained what speed he could, and pulled back on the stick.
Aboard Saber One the laser technician saw the Starlifter rise. It suddenly appeared into the targeting field. He’d been focusing on the command center up ahead, but this was their chance to deal with the Americans. He tapped the screen, locked onto their pursuer, and activated the laser.
The mirrors changed their position and focused. The high-pitched squeal sounded once again. The laser fired.
But instead of a fuel-driven explosion, all he saw through the camera was a sudden wall of darkness followed by a small eruption of dust and debris.
Saber One had flown under the bridge and the six-lane concrete deck had come between the laser and its target.
The powerful beam vaporized a section of the concrete, superheating it instantly and causing thousands of small fragments to eject outward in a thermal explosion.
A section of steel girder took the second shot, melting as the laser burrowed through it.
A third shot sliced one of the harp-string-like cables, while a fourth blasted the main tower.
The damage was significant, but the bridge stood. The Starlifter passed overhead, shielded by its bulk. When the technician reacquired the pursuing plane, it was directly above them. It dove downward and pulled in front.
In the cockpit of the Starlifter, Joe braced himself for the superheated beam that would rip the plane apart. It didn’t come. On the far side of the bridge, he pushed the nose down, cutting in front of Saber One and hoping Kurt was ready.
Spotting Saber One beneath the bridge, Kurt stomped on the tug’s accelerator and sent the baggage train of missiles down the ramp and out through the back of the plane.
The carts were torn from each other by the Starlifter’s slipstream, and they tumbled in haphazard fashion as they went out the door. Kurt drove the tug right to the end, leaping off before it hit the ramp, and grabbing for anything he could find that might keep him from rolling out along with it.
With his arm hooked into a cargo net, he watched the trail of destruction unfold.
The missiles, carts, and the tug fell like a metal avalanche toward Saber One.
One projectile hit the top of the plane, another hit the tail, a third hit the wing.
One of the carts was sucked into an engine, causing it to flare like a Roman candle.
The tug fell last and most true. It rolled over once, heading directly for the cockpit.
Inside Saber One, the weapons technician had reacquired the Starlifter after the planes emerged from opposite sides of the bridge, but he hesitated, considering what might result if they shot it down while it was above and directly in front of them.
Looking out the cockpit window, he was astonished by how large and close it appeared. He was even more surprised by the barrage of projectiles pouring out of it and into the sky before them.
Ahab stood in shock, eyes wide, mouth agape. The plane shook as it was hit in various places. One of the cruise missiles tumbled past them, missing by mere feet. A cart hit somewhere on top of the fuselage, gashing it. Something hit the right wing, jarring the plane.
Ahab focused on the next object. The squat angular tug flipped slowly as it grew closer.
“No!” he shouted.
The thousand-pound tug crashed unstoppably through the cockpit. It destroyed the control space, killing Ahab and the others instantly.
From Kurt’s perspective they’d scored a direct hit. Five of them, in fact. But the strike to the front of the plane was a fatal blow. Saber One careened out of control, turning slowly to the left as it rose and wavered. The right wing caught fire as venting fuel was ignited by the burning engine.
To Kurt’s astonishment, the old plane refused to come apart. Instead, it veered gracefully toward the rugged hills on the left side of the river, trailing smoke and fire, then plowed into them at three hundred miles an hour.
The plane folded up on impact, compressing accordion style and exploding in a reverberating thud.
One look told Kurt there would be nothing left of the laser, the crew, or Ahab. He made his way to the intercom, buzzed Joe, and gave him the good news.
“Take us home,” he suggested, “before the Chinese decide we might be useful to them somehow.”
“Sorry, amigo,” Joe said. “No can do. Engines have been used up. We need to set this thing down before they come apart.”
Kurt took that stoically. “I thought you said you didn’t know how to land this plane.”
Joe’s reply was confident, but noncommittal. “I guess we’re going to find out.”