by Dean M. Cole
He waved a dismissive hand. “Whatever.”
With its landing gear still retracted, the giant aircraft finished its descent and flew straight into the concrete runway. Its top-mounted wings snapped off. They each pinwheeled down the sides of the paved strip, leaving looping trails of fiery fuel in their wake.
The speeding and now wingless fuselage raced down the pavement. Twinned fans of sparks sprayed out from the point of contact. Then it rammed into the burning pile of airplane wreckage that blocked the end of the runway and blew through it without losing any speed. The impact launched flaming chunks of destroyed passenger jets into the air for short-lived final flights.
The Antonov’s crumpled and now also burning fuselage traveled another quarter-mile. It crashed through the perimeter fence and plowed across a street intersection choked with mangled cars. Then it slammed into a building and detonated, launching a new conflagration into the sky.
Rourke saw several dark black items tumble away, bouncing like toys as they careened down the street beyond the building.
“I’ll be a monkey’s uncle!” Bingham pointed at the tumbling objects. “Those are bloody battle tanks! No wonder we got thrown around by its wake. The plane was loaded to the gills.”
Looking a little green around the gills herself, Major Lee nodded. She pointed at the center console. “Plug the coordinates into the box for the Soyuz landing zone in Nebraska.” She paused and then raised her brows. “And keep an eye on the moving map. Make damned sure we don’t get close to any other airports.”
Chapter 11
“I was able to talk to her this time, Vaughn.” Angela released the mic key and dabbed a tear from her eye.
“Who?”
“Afia, the young African girl I used to chat with in Equatorial Guinea.”
“Oh, on the radio?”
“Yeah, before it all happened … the first time.” Angela shook her head. “She sounded so frightened, Vaughn.”
A long pause greeted her words. Then his voice returned. “What did you tell her?”
After taking a deep breath, Angela let it out in a sigh. “What I’ve been telling everyone: we’re going to beat this. I told her not to be afraid.”
Angela shook her head. “But … we know what's going to happen to her.” She shuddered involuntarily. “I lied to her … I—”
“No, Angela!” Vaughn cut off her words. “You were right to tell Afia that. Like the director said, if we succeed, then none of this ever happened.”
Angela dabbed another tear from her eye. She wanted to believe that, had to.
After a moment, she nodded and then keyed the mic again. “How are you guys coming down there?”
“We made it to…” Vaughn faltered. “Are you sure you’re okay, Angela?”
She gave the radio a wistful smile. “I’m a long effing way from okay, but we’ll get through this.” She stared through the Cupola’s window, watching as uncountable stars set behind Earth’s retreating western horizon. “Anyway, where are you?”
After a slight hesitation, Vaughn’s voice returned. “We are just outside of Omaha. Damn city is an inferno. How are things going up there? You guys all set to go?”
“Yeah. Major Peterson is wrapping up the last of the departure checklist. We’ll be moving into the module soon.”
Shifting her gaze, Angela looked down on North America. Over the last few hours, they had watched the wave of light complete its sweep across the planet. The ISS had passed over North Dakota a couple of minutes ago. Now the eastern seaboard was beginning to roll into view. By the time their Soyuz descent module returned to this side of the world, they and it would be deep into the atmosphere. In the intervening time, the Earth’s rotation will have placed the land just east of Omaha beneath their descending module.
Angela toggled the radio again. “I’m not going to have line of sight with you much longer. We better say our goodbyes before we lose radio contact.”
When Vaughn’s voice returned, Angela could hear his smile in his words. “Hurry to me, Angela-Vaughn, I need my angel back here on Earth.”
Unlike the first time she had conversed with him over this radio, Angela no longer had to imagine what that smile looked like. She snorted as she recalled the time she’d said, ‘Call me Angela, Vaughn,’ and the smart aleck had responded with that same name mashup. She held the mic close to her mouth. “I’ll hurry every chance I get, smart ass.”
He chuckled. “I’m glad you still remember that. I’ll see you on the other side. Safe flying, Commander.”
“I’ll see you there, Captain.”
She terminated the connection and then shouted over her shoulder, “How are we coming, Teddy?!”
She turned around to see him floating into the Cupola, a plastic box clutched in his hands.
“Major Peterson has the module prepped, and your little furry friends are ready for the journey.”
Smiling, Angela reached out and took the offered box. She opened the lid a smidge and peeked inside. Two pairs of beady little eyes gazed at her from within its blue confines. Pink noses twitched in front of long, white whiskers.
She resealed the container and then inspected the lid and the holes that Teddy had cut into it. Then she nodded to him. “Thank you. I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”
The cosmonaut smiled, and his SoCal surfer boy persona reemerged for the first time since he’d learned of the fate of the world. “No problemo, Command-Oh.”
They left the Cupola and headed toward the Soyuz module. It was attached to Zvezda in the Russian portion of the station. They joined the major. The three of them strapped into the descent module and then completed departure preparations.
Major Peterson soon finished the last checklist item and then gave everyone a questioning look. “Ready to go?”
Angela nodded. “If I never see this place again, it’ll be too soon.”
The two men gave her odd looks but then both nodded.
Bill flipped a switch.
A loud clunk followed by a slight jolt transmitted through the module.
“We’re away.” Reaching for the thruster control, Bill regarded Angela with a questioning look. “Are you sure about this? If I activate the thruster this close to the station, it’s going to torch a portion of it.”
Pursing her lips, Angela hitched a thumb toward the ISS. “I told you, the whole thing is already toast. It’s going to die when those solar panels show their true nature.” She pointed at the countdown timer. “Besides, it’s too late to have second thoughts. We didn’t allot time for the usual two and a half hours for pre-reentry maneuvering. It’s time to start. Otherwise, we’re going to overshoot Nebraska.”
Peterson slowly nodded. After hesitating a moment longer, he toggled the command.
Another jolt passed through Angela's seat. Then Bill made two quick attitude adjustments. He looked at both of them, raising a thumb. "Ready?"
Extending their hands, Angela and Teddy responded in kind and spoke at the same time. “Ready.”
Major Pearson nodded and then leaned back in his seat.
He pressed the final command.
Angela felt the welcome pressure of G-forces pushing her into the contoured crew seat. Months of malnourishment had her weak, but she was still in much better condition for the return to gravity than she had been the last time she’d descended from the station. This trip into zero-G had lasted hours not months, so she would have much less trouble with the return of gravity than she’d had last time.
Even Bill and Teddy should be okay. Neither of them had been in the station long when the light had swept across the planet.
Over the next thirty minutes, the reentry went as planned. All systems remained nominal, working as advertised for a change. Her crewmates seemed to be doing as well as could be expected. Occasionally, she would see one of them staring through the solid surface of a bulkhead, their eyes distant. Angela wished there was something she could tell them, some words that would allev
iate their mourning, but she knew it was a path that each of them would have to negotiate on their own.
Heavens knew she had her own issues. Living through the eradication of most of the planet’s biosphere a second time didn’t come without its pains, its heartache. Her thoughts went to her lost family and friends. The knowledge that her and Vaughn’s group of survivors might be able to undo it all provided her only solace.
Angela blinked and looked at her lap. She was feeling the first hint of gravity’s return. Once Bill had completed the de-orbit burn, they had become weightless again. However, now the Soyuz module was beginning to encounter the upper atmosphere.
Her body settled deeper into the seat.
Then Angela heard the first wisps of air caressing the module’s skin. Soon, the G-forces increased significantly, pressing her body into the thin cushions of the chair.
The whispering atmosphere crescendoed into a roar. The flickering orange glow of burning plasma shone through the descent module’s small window.
After referencing his checklist, Major Peterson flipped a couple of switches.
Angela glanced out the small port window at the strobing orange light and then looked at Bill, her eyebrows raised. “E-Everything okay?”
He gave her and Teddy another thumbs-up. “All systems nominal.”
Nodding, Angela stared at the flickering plasma. To keep her thoughts from dwelling on the incinerating forces that were excoriating the bottom of the module, she considered what might lie ahead for all of them.
How were they going to get to Europe?
Vaughn was pretty adamant that airports weren’t an option, but it wasn’t like they could travel via helicopter the entire way. An ocean-going ship would take too long as well. They needed to get to Geneva before the Necks got too entrenched.
They didn’t lack for pilots. Teddy was a mission specialist, but she knew that Bill was a pilot, although she wasn’t sure of what type aircraft.
Angela glanced over at the major. “How do you know Wing Commander Bingham?”
“He and I served together in a joint task force while I was in the sandbox.”
She nodded slowly. By sandbox he meant the Middle East. “What kind of operation was it?”
“It was a heavy-lift op staffed by US and British transport pilots.”
Angela twisted her face as she tried to form her question.
Bill gave her a knowing grin. “Yes, he is a bit of an asshole.”
Angela raised her eyebrows. “Oh, no, I … I wasn’t thinking that.” She felt her face flush as she heard the overly defensive tone in her words.
Major Peterson smiled. “Then you’d be the first.” He waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry, it’s common knowledge, but he is a good man, extremely intelligent as well.”
“So he commanded an entire wing of airplanes?”
Bill gave her a confused look for a moment and then understanding dawned on his face. “No, wing commander is just a rank in the Royal Air Force. I mean, he might have commanded a wing, but you wouldn’t know that just by the title of his rank.”
The conversation withered as the force pushing Angela into her seat increased to oppressive levels.
A few moments later, the G-forces began to relent.
Outside the window, the flickering gold light began to diminish as well. In the gaps, Angela saw that the sky had shifted from black to a deep, indigo blue.
She flinched as a loud, metallic report shot through the module.
Teddy pointed toward the window. “That’s the drogue chute.”
Over the next couple of minutes, Angela watched as the sky shifted to lighter shades of blue. When she looked at it again, the altimeter indicated they were descending through fifteen thousand meters. Angela knew that was about fifty thousand feet, higher than a passenger jet’s cruising altitude.
They were still descending rapidly. The drogue hadn’t slowed them much. Its primary purpose was to keep them aligned in preparation for the release of the main chute.
Just as Angela had the thought, the parachute deployed in a cascade of waving white and red fabric. She watched it inflate overhead.
The lines went taut.
The module yanked upward. It felt as if they had hit the end of a long rubber band.
Angela’s vision narrowed as the sudden increase in G-forces threatened to rob her of consciousness. However, a couple of short bounces later, everything settled down, plunging the module into relative silence interrupted by her brief spat of staccato coughs.
Teddy looked at Angela and smiled. “You okay, Command-Oh?”
She gave him a weak grin. “I’m fine.”
The module now sat at a thirty-degree angle. This was a design feature. The harness held the Soyuz like that for a few moments, allowing the passage of the air over its bottom shield to dissipate the heat of reentry.
As expected, the module soon righted itself. Then the outside world turned white as they descended into a layer of clouds. A few moments later, the wispy vapor took on an ominously dark hue.
Angela’s eyes widened as the module began to heave up and down.
Bill waved a dismissive hand. “We’ll be fine. It’s probably just a layer.”
Nodding, Angela activated the radio. “Nebraska Ground, this is Soyuz One, over.”
“Angela-Vaughn! Is that you?”
Smirking, Angela keyed the radio again. “Hello, Captain.” She emphasized his title. “How are you reading me?”
After a slight pause, Vaughn returned, now sounding serious. “We are reading you five-by-five. What’s your location?”
She nodded to Major Peterson.
Bill toggled the radio. “We were on course when our star plotter lost lock, so we should be pretty close to the target area.”
Angela looked at the altimeter. “We are under the chute and descending through ten thousand meters now. Can you see us yet?”
Bill shook his head and pointed toward the window. The outside clouds had darkened further.
Vaughn’s voice returned. Now Angela detected a nervous tone in his words. “Yeah, about that … I can’t believe I forgot this.”
“Uh, forgot what?”
“Well, he-he. Remember that tornado I told you about?”
Angela’s eyes widened. “Oh no! The system that nearly flipped your helicopter? Please tell me that's not the weather we’re in.”
“Yep, ‘fraid so, but it’s still a good way to the west. We have plenty of time to recover you and head out before it gets here.”
Angela glanced back outside. Rivulets of rainwater cascaded across the glass portal. “It may be far to your west, but we appear to be right in the middle of it.”
“Don’t worry. I’m sure that’s just an upper-level layer.”
The module surged upward as a vertical gust yanked it skyward. Angela pressed her lips into a thin line. She keyed the mic. “That’s easy … ugh.” Another bout of turbulence forced a grunt from her. “That’s easy for you to say.” She shook her head. “Soyuz One, out.”
She released the radio key and exchanged nervous glances with her crewmates.
They could only hope that the energy of their reentry had carried them past the worst of the storm.
Closing her eyes, Angela wrapped gloved hands around her shoulder straps.
The module continued to surge and swing. She could almost imagine they were floating in a small raft atop an angry sea.
They spent the next several minutes in silent anticipation. Every time the module twisted or turned, Angela was certain they had descended into the top of a funnel cloud. Fortunately, it settled down each time.
Craning her neck, Angela peered up into the concave belly of the single parachute. Its concentric rings of red and white flexed and pulsed, looking like a giant jellyfish as it expanded and contracted, appearing to breathe in the storm.
She glared at their Russian cosmonaut. “One parachute?! Really?!” She jabbed a finger toward the ceiling, pointing upwar
d. “There should be three!”
Looking up with wide eyes, Teddy nodded. “Da!” His surfer boy persona reemerged. “But, don’t be hating on the token Russian. It wasn’t my fault. I didn’t design this thing.”
The three of them laughed nervously.
Another vicious vertical surge cut short their chortles.
Angela activated the radio again. “Anything yet? Do you see us?”
“No, but the ceilings are really low.” The sound of beating rotors came through his radio transmission.
“Are you in your helicopter?”
“Yes. We won’t be able to see you until right before you touch down—if at all—so we wanted to be ready to make a quick search pattern if needed.”
Angela felt her heart rate increase as she considered what would happen if they were to descend into the helicopter’s rotor blades.
“Well, I certainly hope we don’t end up dropping in on top of you.”
“Don’t worry about that. It’s the whole big-sky-little-bullet thing.”
Angela gnashed her teeth. “What the hell does that even mean?”
“It means that there are probably bigger things that you need to be worrying about than running into me.”
Next to her, Bill was nodding. He pointed towards the altimeter. “We just descended below three hundred meters. You need to brace for landing.”
Nodding, Angela stared through the window again. She wished she could see down, but the angle was all wrong. As the ground rushed up toward the module, she worried about what might lie beneath them.
What if they were about to plow into a house?
Then she thought about the wind.
Angela looked at Bill. “How’s our sideward drift?”
He pursed his lips. “Within limits … just.”
Looking up, Angela stared at the rain-soaked parachute. Under it, they were descending at a rate of twenty-four feet per second. She knew that, just before touchdown, six small rockets would ignite for a split second, cushioning their impact with the ground.
Hopefully, it was ground beneath them.
Angela tightened her shoulder harness again.