by Jack L Knapp
“Going up now. Watch the radar. We won’t get a great picture, too much ground clutter, but if anything is inbound we might see it.”
“Understood. Okay, I show you at ten meters altitude.”
“Ten meters...going up, I’m at twelve meters now. Assuming the optical altimeter is working.”
“It works. Most of the time, anyway.”
The two chuckled. “Gooney Bird, train the wingtip cameras. I want one on the armored vehicles, one on our mechanics.”
“Roger, Chuck. I show movement...you’ve got half a dozen people heading for us. They look like French brass.”
“Yeah, they do love fancy uniforms. That guy behind Fancy Hat has a loudhailer, so we should be able to hear him. You speak French?”
“No. You?”
“Half a dozen words. Okay, let’s see what he thinks of this.”
Farside rotated, slowly but smoothly, finally stopping with the nose slightly offset from the group.
“You don’t want to face them, Chuck?”
“Let’s be friends, okay? They wouldn’t enjoy being in front of the radar.”
“I had forgotten. Okay, they’re stopping.”
The man with the speaker handed it to the one Gooney Bird had identified as ‘brass’. A rapid burst of loud French ensued, then the speaker lowered the amplifier, waiting expectantly.
“Gooney, do you have any idea what he wants?”
“Not a clue. Want to let me off too? I could see if anyone speaks English. Or Polish? I speak pretty good Polish, some German too.”
“You want to go out there?”
“I think I have to, unless you’ve got an external speaker.”
“Nope, something to look into for next time. Okay, stand in the door, I’ll ease down to a low hover, you hop out. Any problems, I’ll see what I can do.”
Moments later, Gooney Bird walked up to the group and nodded. The uniformed people saluted, open hand visible beside their caps. Gesticulations and head shaking on both sides ensued. Finally, a look of distaste on his face, the officer began speaking. Gooney Bird listened attentively, then nodded. He half turned and gestured to Farside, hovering with the skids half a meter above the ground. Moments later Gooney Bird turned and walked back, reentering through the open hatch.
“He says the site is under the control of the Gendarmerie. I asked about the infantry vehicles, but he says they have their own chain of command. He did not call them, they just showed up. Maybe the French government is involved?”
“Lovely. Okay, go back and ask him what he means by them not being under his control. Stall.”
“I will do this. There are other questions I can ask. How are the mechanics doing?”
“They’ve got a couple of impellers off already and they’re loading them on Cicada. Looks like they didn’t bother disconnecting cables, I see cut ends hanging down.”
“Good, quick is better. Four men are working on that crushed impeller under the port wing. What of the infantry vehicles?”
“No engine smoke. I think they’re diesel powered, most are nowadays. What about that turret? Was the gun facing this way before?”
“I do not remember.”
“Well, it is now. Still want to go out there?”
“I must. Please don’t shoot me. The gendarmes have pistols, but no long arms. Except for insisting on speaking French, the one in charge has been friendly enough. He seems a typical cop, unless we cross him.”
“Go ahead, then. I’ll be moving as soon as you’re out of the hatch, I don’t like those cannons pointing my way.”
“I will stall as long as I can. I hope those mechanics work fast!”
Gooney Bird approached the group, this time holding out his hand. The group eddied around, each of the men coming forward to shake hands. The uniformed officers also saluted.
No question, the turrets of the infantry vehicles had shifted. The guns now pointed toward Farside. Chuck smiled and fed in power. Farside floated straight up, then moved to hover behind the tracked vehicles. Chuck couldn’t use his pods from this position, but on the other hand the IFVs couldn’t aim their cannons either. Standoff, but if they began moving, something would have to be done.
Below, the group with Gooney Bird had watched Farside in astonishment. Chuck moved the stick slightly, moving around behind the parked vehicles. Moments later, puffs of smoke announced engine start; whoever was in command of the armor had gotten nervous. The French officers suddenly turned and began running to their cars. Gooney Bird headed for Cicada.
He thinks on his feet, thought Chuck. I’ll keep my eye on him!
Chuck lifted Farside until he was well above the vehicles. Below, the tracked vehicles began moving into a line, facing the crashed Flea. The mechanics had stopped working and were now crouched, peering around the edge of the fuselage and watching the slow advance of the armored vehicles.
Chuck glanced at the control between his seat and the empty copilot’s. The vertical motorcycle-style control had five positions; the pointer was all the way to the left, the gun pods safed. Chuck selected ‘Both’ and twisted the control to the first position.
Turning Farside to point in front of the vehicles, he eased backward until his guns were trained on the open ground ten meters in front of the armored formation, a distance of about thirty feet. Pressing the button atop the pod controls, Chuck fired. Two GAU-8 Avenger Cannons, salvaged from a pair of crashed A-10 Warthogs, fired six rounds each and stopped, thin smoke drifting from the pods. Huge clouds of dust boiled in front of the armored vehicles, churned up a dozen 30mm high-explosive shells.
Would they accept the warning?
Chuck rotated the selectors to the second position. This time, the guns would fire twenty rounds each. The Avengers were now pointed at the rear decks of the armored vehicles. He waited, grim faced, thumb over the firing button.
Chapter Nine
“This waiting isn’t doing either of us any good. Can we go see the twins, dad?”
“Sure, give the NICU a call and let them know we’re on our way. They might not let me in, but I can watch through the window. Hang on, I’ve got a call...it’s Chuck.”
Frenchy listened, then a look of dismay crossed his features. “They did what? What are they doing now?” Finally, he responded. “Do what you have to do. You know the risks.” Frenchy listened to the reply, then answered, “Lina’s fine. We’re about to visit the babies. I’m staying until everyone goes home. Not that we have a home yet, but I’ll see about buying one while I’m here. If that’s okay with you, I mean.”
The conversation continued for another minute, then Frenchy put his phone away.
“Chuck sends his love. He’s got his hands full at the moment. We don’t want to offend the French, they can be touchy, but at the same time we don’t want to hand them an impeller. There are French armored vehicles at the crash site. They’re waiting, but Chuck has made it clear they won’t get the ship without a fight. He armed the Farside before he picked her up, two pods with machine cannons, and he fired half a dozen shots into the ground to keep the armored vehicles back. There’s a crew of mechanics removing the impellers and they’re working as fast as they can. Chuck’s covering them. For the moment, it’s a standoff. He’s hoping they don’t want bloodshed any more than we do. But Chuck’s fuel is getting low. He’s going to land Farside and try to bluff them. His cannons are heavier than theirs but they’ve got more armor. They can take Flea if they decide it’s worth the risk.”
“Oh, dad, Chuck could be killed! What about Cicada, can’t she help?”
“She’s on the ground. The mechanics are loading impellers as fast as they can unbolt them. Frodo’s in charge of stripping Flea. Chuck’s current copilot is trying to keep a lid on things. I don’t know if you’ve met him yet, name’s Gulczynski. They call him Gooney Bird.”
Lina chuckled, erasing the worry lines. “I’ll bet he hates that name!”
“Probably, but he’s a good man. Chuck is impressed.”<
br />
“So what are you going to do, dad?”
“There’s nothing I can do. We’ve only got two cannons, Chuck’s got those, so I can’t even send in reinforcements. We bought the weapons after that Russian hijack attempt. There are also rocket pods, he didn’t mention those, but Chuck and Will are the only ones who know anything about them. As for finding another ship, they’re either out in space or down for upgrades. Chuck’s got the only two that are immediately available. The others are deadlined so Pete and his guys can install the spray-on insulation, and since it takes twenty-four hours to dry, the flight crews were turned loose.”
“Chuck told me about that. Will it work?”
“We’ll find out how good it is on the next series of flights.”
“I wish I could be there. I’m worried sick,” Lina said.
“He’s more worried about you. We’ll take care of the babies, Chuck can take care of himself.”
#
Chuck took a deep breath and slowly expelled it. Circling, he brought Farside around until he was directly between the armored vehicles and the crashed Flea. The crew had resumed working on the remaining impellers. Two were using a cutoff saw to free up a badly-bent impeller attach point. Dust flew, but progress was slow.
Easing Farside to the ground, he reduced power to the fuel and oxidizer pumps. The impellers spooled down. Chuck reasoned that the drain on his battery reserve was worth it, but even so, if the batteries dropped to ten percent charge he’d have to bring the fuel cells online.
What would the armored vehicles do? Threatening Flea was one thing, but would they open fire on Farside?
Keying the radio, Chuck messaged Frodo; he had been helping the mechanics carry impellers and was breathing hard when he answered the radio.
“You may have noticed my problem, Frodo. I’ve got bigger guns, they’ve got armor and there are more of them. Hustle the guys along. Damage to the impellers is not a consideration. Get ‘em off, get ‘em loaded, let’s get out of here.”
“Working as fast as we can, Chuck. These guys deserve bonuses!”
“They’ll get them. You may have to bring Gooney Bird out with you on Cicada. If things get hairy, I may not have time to wait for him. Farside’s hull is mostly titanium, but those 20mm cannons will punch through if they’re using armor-piercing ammunition.”
“Understood. As soon as I can spare a man, I’ll see what Gooney wants to do. What are the tracks doing?”
“Burning diesel. Engines are idling, cannons pointed at me, and if I pucker any harder I’ll suck the cushioning right off the seat. But nobody’s shooting yet, and one of the French cops went over just now and banged on the hull of the center track. No idea what he said. Just hurry; I don’t want them to change their mind.”
“You expecting company?”
“No, why?”
“I’m hearing jet noises off in the distance.”
“Shit, shit...I can fight armor if I get off the ground, but if those are fighters, I’m hosed.”
“They might be. Some kind of big plane with a couple of small escorts. Looks like a cargo plane, maybe a turboprop, the others...I can’t tell, they might be helicopters. You have them on radar yet?”
“No, the radar is on standby. I didn’t want to fry a cop by mistake. What are the planes doing?”
“Heading this way. There’s no place for that big boy to land, but the helicopters could set down pretty much where they want to.”
“Big helicopters or small ones? The French have assault helicopters.”
“I can’t tell. They’re blocky looking things, all I can say is they have a single main rotor.”
“Maybe they’re cargo birds, coming for the impellers. They may try to pick them up here and load them on that big plane. Dammit, I’m looking down cannon barrels and even the cargo choppers might be armed. I’ve got a couple of Snakes outboard on the wings, but only two. I don’t want to start a shooting war with the French.”
“Our guys are working on the last impeller right now. That crunched one gave us the most trouble, but we finally gave up on saving the wing and just chopped through it. That impeller’s already loaded. One of the guys lost a finger; he got a little careless with the saw.”
“Where is he now?”
“In Cicada, bandaging his stump. Tough guy.”
“Okay, I see the helicopters. I’m restarting my fuel cells, so as soon as you get that last impeller, collect your guys and head for orbit. I’ll join you there.”
“Luck, Chuck. By the way, one of the tracks is revving his engine.”
“Yeah, I see him. Chuck out.”
The batteries showed slightly less than half charge, but Chuck decided the additional drain was worth the risk. The gauges flickered, the fuel cells coming on line as he brought the ship up using battery power. Moments later, all systems functioning, Chuck held Farside in a hover, 400 meters above the site.
The distant helicopters suddenly veered away; possibly one of the pilots had spotted the pods under Farside’s wings, or maybe he’d seen the Sidewinders. Regardless, both had turned away and were now orbiting off to the west. Were they armed? If so, they could be up-sun in seconds,. Chuck suddenly realized he’d forgotten the radar. Swearing, he pushed the button. The radar display appeared in the center of the panel, two returns showing to the west, a third off to the southeast. That’s the cargo ship, he thought.
“Chuck, we’re done. Gooney is with us. We’re spooling up now and...lifting. We’re off the ground. We weren’t able to get the computers. They took too long to remove, so one of the guys took a sledgehammer to them.”
“Got it, head for Station Two. I’ll top off my tanks at one of the other stations and meet you there. I’ll watch your six on the way up. Chuck out.”
#
Martha caught a flight to Paris, then to Cherbourg-Maupertus airport, landing late in the afternoon. She finally found a taxi that would take her into Cherbourg, but by then it was late and she decided to wait until morning.
She ate an excellent dinner of oysters in a sauce served over pasta, followed by apple tart tatin. The wines did full justice to the meal. She felt pleasantly stuffed and slightly intoxicated when she returned to her hotel room.
Next morning, the hotel offered the usual rolls with butter plus an excellent assortment of jams and jellies; the region was noted for the quality of its fruits and vegetables. The coffee tasted good, so she had a second cup; Martha decided the area was worth another visit in the future. After checking out of the hotel, she took a taxi to the hospital and asked to see Will’s doctor.
“Are you a relative, Madame?” the nurse asked.
“No, I’m a business associate. Our company wants to be sure Mister Crane is well taken care of.”
“Of a certainty. I’ll see if the doctor is available. Would Madame care to wait in the anteroom?”
“Is it possible to see Mister Crane?”
“I regret to say that he has not regained consciousness, Madame. The doctor may be able to tell you more.”
Martha fidgeted, waiting. How severe were his injuries? Could this small regional hospital provide the kind of care he needed? She resolved to ask the doctor, who joined her moments later.
“We provide excellent care, Madame. For now, I suggest that waiting is our best option. Mister Crane may wake on his own. The radiographs were inconclusive. A mildly depressed fracture, a minor thing I assure you, is putting some slight pressure on the brain. Surgery is not indicated at this time. Does Mister Crane have a personal physician?”
“Probably, but not in France. He was visiting the factory, a duty of our supervisory staff. He intended to confer with officials to ensure that we fulfill our part of the contract. Do you know what happened to him?”
“I have been in touch with the police, Madame. Mister Crane was assaulted near the entrance to the plant; there are guards, you understand, but they could do nothing. Mister Crane was abducted and beaten most savagely, there are bruises to the tor
so as well as injuries to his head. The police are conducting enquiries, but if they have information they have not chosen to share it with me. I am very sorry.”
“He was abducted? I was not aware of this.”
“Yes, Madame. He was released after about an hour, some distance from the facility at La Hague. Perhaps released is not the proper word; he was thrown out from a motorcar. He is quite fortunate to be alive. The park is used by lovers, you understand; they stroll among the trees and perhaps...well, I digress. Two young people saw the car, a dark van, but...” he shrugged, “there are many such. The couple telephoned the police and Mister Crane was brought here. We feared there might be other broken bones, but he is very fortunate. The posterior region of the skull sustained the most serious injury. We are monitoring his wounds closely. If swelling ensues, it may be necessary to transport him to a hospital specializing in such wounds. Relieving the pressure on the brain ensures the least amount of further injury. It is quite routine, I assure you.”
“Can I see him? I’ve come quite a long way, I would not like to leave without assuring myself that everything possible is being done.”
“Of course, Madame. The nurse will accompany you.” The doctor’s tone had grown frosty. He was obviously not accustomed to having his decisions questioned.
Will’s eyes were closed, he was breathing slowly but easily. A cannula was taped in place, adding oxygen to aid his breathing. Tubes led into both arms, and machines blinked and beeped softly. “He has not been awake at all?”
“No, Madame. He was bleeding from the nose until late yesterday, and he has lost two teeth. We cleaned him up, of course. The bleeding has stopped, as you see, and the tubes bring glucose and a saline solution to maintain his systems.”
“Yes,” Martha said absently. Will’s eyes were swollen, the surrounding tissue bruised and dark. A cut above his lip had been stitched closed, apparently part of the injuries to his face. A large bruise extended from the corner of his mouth to his hairline, just above the left ear.
“Here is my card; if decisions are needed you will call me?”
“Of course, Madame. Immediately.”