Judd tries to place the sound as it grows louder. A bass joins in, then strings and horns fill out the song as a familiar voice cuts across the landscape.
‘Her name was Lola…’
**
43
The Loach screams over the desert, Barry Manilow booming ‘Copacabana’ from its speaker. Corey watches the Galaxy race along the runway, then looks to the desert below.
Spooked by the music, three hundred and fifty head of cattle stampede towards the jet. Behind them Spike is in full gallop, barking expertly as he drives them on. He could be a pain in the arse but he was one hell of a cattle dog.
The herd closes in on the Galaxy. They’re less than 500 metres away.
**
Judd searches for the source of the music, glimpses a blur of yellow in the sky, focuses on it.
The Loach. Corey came back! Then below the chopper Judd sees the cattle, hundreds and hundreds of cattle. They swarm onto the runway in front of the Galaxy. Judd lets out a sharp, delighted laugh, pulls himself up and runs on.
**
Kelvin stares at the cattle, dumbfounded. He doesn’t know if he can get the Galaxy in the air before it reaches them.
He realises this is what he’s been looking for. This is his escape plan. He’ll pretend to stop the jet, but plough into the herd. The landing gear will be destroyed and they’ll crash. In the ensuing pandemonium he’ll slip away, alert the relevant authorities and then: hero time!
And if, for some reason, he can’t slip away, at least it looked like he was trying to avoid the accident. No one can blame him if there’s a herd of cattle in the middle of the runway.
**
Corey turns down the volume, watches the Galaxy race towards the livestock. He had only flown as far as Clem Alpine’s cattle station before the guilt of leaving Judd kicked in. Then he had the bright idea of ‘borrowing’ Clem’s cattle for a few hours. Clem would be pissed off when he found out, but then Clem was always pissed off about something. Moving the herd across the desert had taken the rest of the night.
Suddenly Corey feels real concern for the herd. He knows they’re just beef, destined for McDonald’s or the supermarket, but he still doesn’t want to see them hurt. It’s not their fault these people stole a space shuttle.
**
Kelvin can’t do it. He can’t bring himself to plough into the cattle because he doesn’t know if he’ll survive it. He may have only six months to live but that’s better than six seconds. So he forgets about being a hero and decides to take the money.
He throttles up, and feels a slight hesitation through the levers. Decades of experience tells him there’s a problem with the Galaxy’s inboard portside engine. It could be any number of issues. Usually he’d throttle back, abort take-off and send the jet over to the boys in maintenance, but he has no such luxury today. That herd is too close.
He needs all four turbofans operating at full power to get this thing off the deck in time. He holds his breath, pulls up the Galaxy’s nose and keeps throttling.
The cattle are just there. The hesitation clears and the turbofans sing, drag the huge jet off the desert runway.
‘Come on!’ Kelvin waits for the clunk of bovine on undercarriage. It doesn’t come. He breathes out, points the jet on a northward track, and reviews his decision. He has no regrets. He’s heard Fiji is lovely this time of year. He’ll retire to Fiji, or Tahiti. Either way he’ll die somewhere in the Pacific.
**
The Galaxy’s rear wheels miss the cattle by less than a metre. Stricken, Judd watches the jet lumber into the sky. He has failed Rhonda and the hollow pain in his heart is worse than anything he can remember, including that terrible February day in 2003.
Rotor blades echo behind him. He turns, takes in the black chopper as it skims the desert towards him, 500 metres away and closing fast.
He doesn’t know if killing Tango in Berlin will make him feel better but he’s willing to give it a try. He raises the pistol, aims it at the dark shape and the German he knows is inside. ‘Come on, motherfucker. Come and get me.’
**
That’s exactly what Dirk is doing. He focuses on the astronaut, astonished he’s alive. Big Bird’s equally surprised. His voice buzzes in Dirk’s headset: ‘Didn’t you kill this prick already?’
‘He must have been wearing a bulletproof vest or . . .’ Dirk doesn’t bother finishing the sentence. He just aims the Top Hawk helmet at the astronaut. ‘Let’s put a ribbon on this thing and go home.’
**
Dust swirls and a shadow falls over Judd. He looks up as the Loach drops from the sky, thumps onto the desert beside him.
Corey furiously waves him in. Stunned, Judd doesn’t have to be asked twice. Three steps and he’s in the cockpit. He turns, sees a missile blast away from the black chopper, fly straight for the Loach.
**
44
Corey watches the missile as he kicks the Loach off the desert. ‘Grab something!’ He tips the chopper hard left.
‘Christ!’ Judd hasn’t strapped in yet. He grasps the doorframe to stop himself being ejected from the cockpit, then is jolted back inside as the Loach breaks right and ascends quickly. The missile follows.
Corey sees it in the side-view mirror. ‘We got Tango in Berlin to thank for that?’
Judd nods. ‘Who else?’
‘This bloke’s making a career out of pissing me off.’
The missile closes fast. ‘Hold on!’ Corey tips the Loach into a dizzyingly steep dive. The missile follows.
A metre off the deck the Loach pulls up sharply - and the missile doesn’t. It slams into the desert and the explosion is massive. A wall of red dust billows into the sky. The Australian swings the Loach in a tight arc back towards it.
Judd buckles up, pulls on the headset. Corey glances at him. ‘You okay?’
Judd nods though it’s clear he isn’t. He glances across at the Galaxy as it lifts Atlantis into the dawn sky. ‘Didn’t get to Rhonda.’
‘Sorry, mate. Wish the cattle had worked better.’
‘No, that was great.’
‘Least I could do after leaving. Feel terrible about that.’
‘Forget it.’ Judd sees they’re approaching the wall of dust. ‘What are we doing?’
Corey has his eyes locked on the black chopper in the side-view mirror. ‘Dealing with this guy once and for all.’
‘How?’
‘I got a plan.’ Corey reaches behind him, grabs something from the back seat, drops it in Judd’s lap.
Judd stares at it, dumbfounded. ‘That’s the plan?’
Corey grins his crooked grin. ‘I’m always thinking.’
**
Big Bird angles the Tiger around the edge of the dust cloud, searches for the Loach. ‘Where is it?’
Dirk can’t see it, then he can. ‘Up there!’ He points at the yellow chopper 100 metres above, 200 metres away and flying towards them - upside down.
**
The Loach passes over the apex of a loop. Everything that was on the floor hits the ceiling. Corey and Judd hang in their harnesses.
‘Jesus!’ Judd holds on for dear life.
‘Told you I could pull a loop!’ Corey locks eyes on the black chopper directly below. ‘Now!’
On his command Judd throws the lucky bucket, chunks of jagged rock wedged inside, out the open doorway. It drops towards the black chopper in a graceful arc.
**
The bucket doesn’t hit the Tiger’s rotor blades but strikes its windscreen and jars it from its frame. The air pressure jams it into the cabin and it slams Big Bird in the head. He’s wearing a helmet but the impact is significant.
Dazed, he fights to keep control of the chopper as it spirals to the desert below. Behind him Dirk says: ‘Are you —?’
The Tiger lands hard and he doesn’t finish the sentence.
**
Corey tips the Loach into a ste
ep bank. ‘Did it hit?’
Judd looks back, scans the dispersing dust cloud, waits for the black chopper to emerge, cannons blazing.
It doesn’t. The dust clears and he sees it. ‘It’s on the ground!’ Judd can’t believe such a poorly considered quick fix actually worked.
‘Ha ha! Told you it was lucky!’ Corey taps his temple, thrilled. ‘I’m always thinking!’
‘You’re always thinking!’ Judd is swept up in the moment, any feelings of despair momentarily forgotten. Then he turns and catches sight of the Galaxy as it lifts above the sunrise.
A bright flash, then flames shoot from its inner portside engine, thick black smoke trailing behind. It brings his moment of euphoria to a screeching halt.
**
An alarm shrieks. Kelvin scans the Galaxy’s instrument panel, Nico’s face a portrait of concern. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Engine fire.’ Kelvin silences the alarm then activates the extinguisher system, shuts down the engine he knew had a problem.
Nico’s on edge. ‘Are we okay? Can we still make it?’
‘Fire’s out.’ Kelvin scans the gauges. ‘We’ll be slow but we should be okay, as long as we don’t lose another one.’
**
Corey stares at Judd, unbelieving. ‘Why would you shoot the engine?’
‘I was trying to stop it taking off. It seemed like a good idea at the time.’
The black smoke that streams from the engine thins out.
‘Fire’s out.’ Judd blinks long and hard, relieved. He turns, studies the winch between the seats, focuses on the thick blue Dynamica rope wound around it.
Corey follows his gaze and eyes him suspiciously. ‘What?’
‘How much weight can this rope hold?’
Corey shrugs. ‘A lot. A hundred and forty thousand kilos. Why?’
‘I need you to get me to the Galaxy.’ His hands go Rubik. ‘I’ve got a plan.’
‘I can’t catch that thing.’
‘You can. It’s heavy, and one engine is out.’
‘Sorry, I meant I don’t want to catch that thing.’
‘Come on.’
‘You come on. It’ll be at 30000 feet in a minute.’
‘That’s why we need to get to it now.’
‘And what happens when we arrive?’
‘I gotta plan.’
‘You said that already.’
‘Just do this one last thing.’
Corey stares at Judd for a moment.
‘Please.’
‘If it gets dangerous or in any way doesn’t feel one hundred per cent funky-dory we’re out of there.’
Judd nods. ‘One hundred percent funky-dory or we’re gone.’
Corey works the controls, points the Loach towards the Galaxy. ‘Okay, what’s the plan?’
‘The dog.’
‘That’s a terrible plan.’
‘No, no, your dog.’ Judd points at the desert far below.
Corey follows Judd’s finger. In the distance Spike gallops after the Loach, barking all the way. ‘Sorry, mate, you can’t come along on this one.’
There’s a definite tinge of sadness in his voice.
**
45
Rhonda flexes her arm. She ignores the deep pain in her wrist because the plastic tie is now very loose. Within the suit’s sleeve she pulls on her wrist. It slips under the tie. Hallelujah! Her arm is free.
She draws it down the sleeve and prepares to execute the most difficult part of the plan. She needs to get her arm out of the sleeve and position it in front of her chest so she can unzip the front of the flight suit. There’s only one way she can do it.
Straighten, tense, roll. Hold her arm straight, tense it and roll it clockwise while pushing down at the shoulder. There will be a snap, her shoulder will pop out of its socket and there will be great pain. Purple pain, Judd called it. She had spent years making sure it didn’t happen accidentally but now must do it on purpose.
She takes a breath, reminds herself that the pain will be worth it, that in a moment she’ll be out of this chair and the Frenchman will be out like a light. She doesn’t want to kill him, in spite of everything he’s done. No, she wants to knock him unconscious so she can watch him fry in court.
Before any of that can happen she must distract him. If she can get him talking he won’t hear what she’s doing behind him. It’s a great theory, just as long as he doesn’t turn and look at her as he speaks. She’ll just have to hope he doesn’t because she doesn’t have another option.
‘There’s something I don’t understand. If you’re all professional mercenaries and you really were involved in 9/11, why go to the trouble of stealing a shuttle and doing whatever you plan to do to punish the government? Don’t you do this kind of stuff all the time? Why take it so personally?’
The Frenchman turns, fastens his eyes on hers. ‘Because my pregnant wife was in the North Tower.’
**
Corey looks at Judd. ‘That’s your plan?’
‘That’s my plan.’
‘Well, it’s just awful.’
‘No, no, it’ll work.’
‘Not even accidentally. Mate, really, you’re havin’ a lend of yourself.’
‘I don’t know what that means.’
‘It means you’re fooling yourself and then you’ll die, is what it means.’
Judd ignores him, searches the floor of the Loach. Corey shakes his head in frustration, scans the horizon and picks up the Galaxy in the distance. It is slow and they are catching it. Carrying the shuttle and using only three engines is clearly a big handicap. If the Yank is right about that then maybe he’s right about this half-baked plan too.
‘Yes.’ Judd holds up two hooks Corey uses to move hay bales. They’re rusty but solid, each about 12 centimetres long. He can comfortably hold one in each hand.
‘Okay, let’s say we do catch it, are you even sure she’s on board?’
‘Tango in Berlin said she was.’
‘There’s a reliable source.’
‘If there’s any chance she is I have to try. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t.’
Corey can’t argue with that. He’d told Judd that he didn’t want to be ‘caged’ but in truth the women he dated thought he was crazy as soon as he spoke to the dog. So from painful personal experience the Australian knows how hard it is to find ‘the one’ and won’t stand in the way of Judd being reunited with the woman he loves. ‘Okay.’
‘Thank you.’ Judd unlocks the lever on the winch and pulls out the blue Dynamica rope, roughly measures it as he goes, gets it all out so he can see the end tied around the axle. He tugs on it, makes sure it’s secure. ‘Okay, we got a bit over thirty metres.’ He looks at Corey. ‘You ready?’
‘Not at all, but let’s do it anyway.’
**
The Frenchman studies Rhonda. ‘That’s why I’m doing this. Operatives within the US government were responsible for 9/11 and therefore responsible for the death of my wife, who was five months pregnant.’
Rhonda hears the pain in his voice, wants to say: ‘I’m sorry for your loss.’ She doesn’t. This guy executed one of her crew in cold blood and plans to deploy a dirty bomb. She won’t let herself feel sorry for him. ‘If you faked the Shanksville crash site why didn’t you warn your wife about the Twin Towers?’
‘We didn’t know about it, or the Pentagon, until after it happened.’
‘So what happens now?’
‘We proceed on our current course. Once we are in range I will release Atlantis from the Galaxy and we will crash into the designated target.’
We.
Something cold and awful turns over in Rhonda’s stomach. She’s not sure what’s worse, that her shuttle will be used as a weapon of mass destruction or that she’ll be aboard. ‘What do you need me for?’
‘You will be my conduit.’
‘I still don’t know what that means
.’
‘You will soon enough.’
She takes a breath, frustrated. ‘At least tell me what the target is.’
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