by Darrell Pitt
Chapter Thirty – Three
I turn to the others. “I’ve got to try.”
“We’ll look after him,” Brodie says and follows up with a punch to the mercenary’s jaw. He crumples into a heap.
Then I’m off the ground and into the air. The missile is already high above the island and moving away faster with every second. I look back down at Cayo Placetas and see the others grouped around Wolff’s inert body. This might be the last time I see them.
I’m going to bring down Pegasus or die trying.
The missile continues straight up into the sky. I pursue it. The air becomes colder. It seems to fight against me and I have to remind myself it’s supposed to be my friend. I flatten myself into as streamlined a shape as possible as Mr. Brown showed me. I’m going to need every advantage I can get if I’m going to stand a chance.
Up ahead of me I see the tiny body of the missile against the indigo blue sky. Pegasus is long and thin with vents to allow the intake of air. Like any jet engine, it compresses the air and ignites it, forcing itself through the sky; a controlled explosion that drives it forward on a column of thrust.
Pegasus continues to rise, but slowly its rate of ascent becomes an arc. It is aiming toward its target now. New York City. I try to cut across its arc slightly, grow slightly closer, but now it puts on an extra burst of speed.
The sky before me explodes. Shielding my eyes, at first I think Pegasus has erupted in mid flight. Then I realize the explosion has come from somewhere else. A fighter plane appears in my peripheral vision. It has fired on the missile. Its rocket has come close, but the missile has nimbly changed course to avoid it.
The fighter plane fires again. This time I actually watch its projectile streak through the sky. Just as it seems destined to strike Pegasus, the missile jerks about crazily and the projectile explodes.
It takes a few seconds for me to realize what I have just witnessed. I know a technique often used by fighter craft is to release chaff as a decoy to mislead attacking fire. This is exactly what the missile has done.
At the same time I see something arcing back across the sky toward the fighter plane. It doesn’t seem possible, yet an instant later –
The fighter craft explodes into a fiery ball.
I feel the color drain from my face. Pegasus is more than a missile. It is a fully equipped battle system. Not only can it avoid oncoming attacks, but it can fight back as well.
Might have been nice of Twelve to mention this.
The missile changes direction again.
I glance down we are far above the ocean. We’re still far from land, but I know we’re probably charging directly toward Florida. The missile may curve inland or may follow the long coast to New York. It can move at almost three times the speed of sound so it will take less than an hour to reach its target. I need to speed up if I intend to stand any chance of catching up with Pegasus.
But how can I move that fast?
The fastest I traveled in training was little more than twice the speed of sound and even that was simply in a straight line. A memory comes back to me from Mr. Brown. He spoke about how I might be able to increase my speed if I could create a vacuum directly ahead of me. Such an action would be impossible for a normal fighter jet – they need air to function – but it was theoretically possible for me because of my ability to control air.
Theoretically possible.
It’s not much, but it’s all I’ve got.
I pour on more speed. At the same time I focus on dispersing the air directly before my flight path. After a few seconds I realize Pegasus is closer. Or rather, I’ve grown closer to it.
How long do we have? We’ve been in the air almost half an hour. The wind is tearing past me and now it’s increasingly harder to breathe. I’m not sure how long I can keep going like this, but at least now I’m making some headway. The missile is now less than a mile away.
Something catches my eye. Three somethings. I glance over and see a series of fighter craft winging through the sky toward the missile. At the same time I see them fire and rockets arch across the sky toward Pegasus. Once again I see tiny dots leave the rear of Pegasus just before the rockets strike.
The projectiles explode in mid flight.
Simultaneously, three rockets eject from Pegasus and head toward the fighter craft. They take evasive maneuvers, rolling and somersaulting through the sky. One of them is struck almost immediately. The second fighter executes a quick roll and fires two more shots at the missile.
As Pegasus disposes of the two rockets I see the second fighter craft burst into flame. It draws a long blackened stain across the sky before disappearing from sight.
Now it’s only me and a single fighter craft remaining. So far the lone ship has avoided Pegasus’ retaliatory action. As this realization sinks in I catch sight of something that chills me to the bone. I’ve been so intent on keeping up with Pegasus that I haven’t noticed the changing landscape below. I can see a section of coast. It’s the distinctive shape of Chesapeake Bay. New York is only minutes away.
Time is running out.
I pour on even more speed, but the missile seems to be capable of going even faster. It jerks suddenly in the sky and another missile explodes, but still it remains aloft. It can be only seconds before it detonates.
Something explodes near me and the blast throws me off course.
No!
I veer out of control for a few seconds, cart wheeling through the sky like a firework. Where is Pegasus? I spy a tiny silver streak in the sky. It seems to be reducing altitude. It must be preparing to detonate. I aim at it, pouring on as much speed as I can. The shockwave from the blast has slowed me down and now I’ve got to make up for lost time.
I can see Long Beach and a main road. It must be the Garden State Parkway. Eventually it meets up with the New Jersey Turnpike. New York is only moments away. I either stop the missile now or I never will. I give a final burst of speed and see the remaining fighter craft fire three more rockets at the missile. They explode impotently in mid-air. Even I think the fighter’s efforts are fruitless.
Now the jet aircraft pours on more speed. I think I realize what the pilot intends to do. If he can’t shoot the missile down he intends to set a collision course with the weapon. He understands the stakes as well as me.
Even then I doubt he will succeed. The designers of Pegasus took into account the capabilities of the greatest fighter craft in the world. They knew exactly what to expect.
Of course, they didn’t know about me.
They didn’t know that one day a teenage boy would be turned into some sort of super weapon.
A super hero.
And now I know what I have to do.
Pegasus is just like any other jet engine. It requires an intake of air to propel it forward. There’s no time left to wonder if this is going to work. There’s only time to act because millions of people are about to die.
Instead of projecting a vacuum ahead of myself, I project it around the body of Pegasus. The effect is almost instantaneous. The missile seems to stutter in mid flight. Its jet engines can’t operate without air.
Something whirrs past me at incredible speed. The remaining fighter pilot has realized something is wrong with the missile. He has gotten off a shot in the hope it may impact.
A bright flash appears before me. I close my eyes, expecting the worse. Has the warhead exploded? Has the city dissolved in molten destruction? Have a million people lost their lives in a hellfire of nuclear energy?
I slowly open my eyes.