He confirmed his pre-selected radio frequency and pressed the push-to-talk button on his joystick. “Viper to Big Bird. You copy?”
Silence.
“Viper to Big Bird, are you on-air?”
A female voice answered. It was Laura. “Roger, Viper. This is Big Bird. We have you in sight. We’re heading one-eight-zero and descending out of five thousand.”
“Roger, Big Bird,” said Danny. “Nice to see you made it.” He flew north, then pulled hard to the left and circled around behind the southbound jet, until they were flying parallel.
Laura waved from inside the cockpit of the big G-950. “Is Baby Bird with you?”
“Negative,” Danny replied. “I’m flying solo up here.”
“Roger that.”
“We’ll wait a few more minutes.”
“No need for that, sir.” An airplane dropped out of the sky and pulled up level with the other two jets, with Danny in the middle of the formation.
“That’s a nice jet you’ve got there, Howard,” Danny radioed. “How’s she handle?”
“A bit like your aircraft, sir, but with more passengers.”
“She’s sexy,” said Danny, “but can she do this?”
Danny gave his flight control stick a crisp pull and a roll, until he was inverted, flying upside down between the other two jets.
Faces appeared in the oval windows along the fuselage of both of the bigger airplanes. In Canary’s Big Bird appeared Floyd, Susannah, Moshe, Tikva, Helen, Sparky, Atom, Blendo, Rony, Bella, Rukara, Poo, Zammy, Delilah, Oberon, and Romeo.
Peering from the windows of the smaller G-288 Baby Bird were Rory, Tim, Maggie, Isaac, Nik, Gali, Copper, Turing, Blackie, Whitey, Kong, and VanCat.
Rory came on the radio. “Lookin’ good, show-off.”
“Thanks.”
“I could have ridden with you, you know.”
“I know. I just. . . . I wanted to. . . .”
“Don’t worry. We’ll get her back.”
Danny rolled his jet upright and assumed the lead. “Let’s head south, one-seven-five.”
The three aircraft flew south. Bright, orange lights of the San Diego metropolitan area passed by on their port side.
At regular intervals, Danny checked on his friends. Canary and Laura were clearly visible in the cockpit of the bigger jet, their faces bathed in a subtle glow cast by the instrument panel. On Danny’s other side, the red eyes of Howard and Bernard gleamed from the flight deck of the smaller Eighty-Eight.
All four of his fellow aviators wore radio headsets, which appeared particularly fascinating on Howard and Bernard.
Danny wondered if an all-robot flight crew were legal. Probably not. Howard was a fully-licensed pilot. Bernard was literally learning on the fly. At any rate, the folks in the back certainly didn’t seem perturbed about entrusting their lives to the two robots. It was a testament to the trust robots and humans could share.
If everyone made it out alive—when Danny insisted to himself, when everyone made it out alive—and they were back home, he would have a newfound respect for robots, having seen firsthand what they were capable of, and what they were willing to do to help their friends, robot and human alike.
“Everybody awake?” Danny radioed. “We’re almost to the border. Time to do some water skiing.”
Danny pitched the nose of his jet downward and descended toward the water. Flying at night over the water presented a unique challenge, for it was virtually impossible to see where the sky stopped and the water began. Both appeared equally dark. Water was also incompressible; it tended to receive fast-moving objects much as did concrete. Flying into the water, therefore, would not be comfortable.
Danny descended lower and lower, until he saw faint traces of whitecaps rushing by below. On his left, Canary was skimming the water line at a similar altitude, mirrored by Howard on Danny’s right. Danny keyed his radio, “I’ll say one thing: you all have got balls.”
“Just try and keep up,” Canary replied. Despite the seriousness in Canary’s tone, the sentiment made Danny smile.
Danny consulted his moving map. A dotted blue line passed by. They were now in international airspace. Or, given their altitude (or lack thereof), they were in international waters.
“Lights out,” Danny radioed.
He extinguished all exterior lighting on his jet, including his red-and-green position lights and white anti-collision lights on the wingtips, and the red beacon flashing atop the tail of his aircraft.
The other two jets also went dark.
Ahead, on the horizon, loomed the outline of a ship. The myriad rows of parallel lights and its shape identified it as a cruise ship. A big one. Getting bigger by the second.
Danny maintained his heading. Thus Canary and Howard maintained their headings.
The ocean liner passed by just off their starboard side. On its uppermost deck, hundreds of people line danced in unison, side stepping and tapping their heels on the dance floor and clapping their hands together before they twirled in place and danced back the way they’d come. Most of them stopped and hurried to the rail, and looked down at the dark water. The three jets rushed past, followed by the screaming roar of jet engines. Long white sprays of sea water flew into the air.
Not exactly subtle.
Danny performed some quick calculations, considering their location, current airspeed, and distance to target. If they were lucky, they would make it before the U.S. or Mexican Coast Guards showed up. Both agencies utilized fast-attack helicopters equipped with .50 caliber machine guns used to combat the drug boats and submarines known to frequent these waters.
Such a confrontation would be a disaster to their mission. Danny inched his control stick forward, creeping closer and closer to the water. They had to stay below radar. Canary mirrored the descent, as did Howard. The digital altimeter in Danny’s heads-up-display indicated they were flying seventeen feet above the water.
“I see dolphins,” Howard radioed.
“Any lower and we can pet them,” Canary added.
“Keep your eyes open,” said Danny. “We’re less than twenty miles from the island. We should have company soon.”
“You sure your friends will show up?”
“I’ve never known a pilot who would pass up an opportunity to kick some ass.”
A pair of fighter jets descended from the sky. “Did I hear something about an ass kicking?”
Danny recognized the voice at once: it was Egg Roll. To his right was A-Hole-in-One. Their big, delta-wing F-35 attack aircraft sported the characteristic blue-and-gold livery, with the fierce gold dragon emblem on the vertical stabilizer.
“Nice night to do some fishing,” radioed A-hole. “Or get into a firefight with a fleet of attack drones.”
“Just another day at the office,” said Egg Roll.
“Thanks for being here,” radioed Danny. “Did you bring back-up?”
“See for yourself,” said Egg Roll.
Danny craned his neck to look behind his jet. He quickly counted eighteen F-35 fighter-attack aircraft. Egg Roll and A-hole made it twenty.
“Wow,” said Laura. She’d seen them, too.
“Golden Dragons, at your service,” said Egg Roll.
The bomb bay doors opened on all twenty jets of the Golden Dragons squadron. Each was heavily armed with multiple air-to-air missiles.
“You guys came prepared,” said Rory.
“It’s better to have a missile and not need it than to need a missile and not have it,” said A-hole.
Helen’s voice came over the radio, “You can say that again!”
When the laughter subsided, Howard came on the radio. “It is nice to fly with you gentleman once more.”
“Likwise,” said Egg Roll. “Now, I hate to break up the tearful reunion but it’s time to party. I’ve got bogies on radar, numerous and closing fast. Dragons! Let’s dance.”
Blue cones of jet thrust shot from the exhaust nozzles of the fighters and they accele
rated away. The sound was deafening. Danny felt the rumble in his chest.
The fighter squadron climbed as one, then broke into groups and engaged the oncoming swarm of drones.
Air-to-air missiles streaked from the fighters by the dozens. Balls of fire lit up the night as the missiles hit their targets, shattering the drones into fragments that fell to the sea.
The remaining drones turned sharply away and retreated.
“That was easy,” said Egg Roll.
“Mister Olivaw,” said A-hole, “I thought you said this was going to be a fight.”
It was easy. Too easy.
“They’re regrouping,” Danny radioed. “That was a test, to feel us out. The real firefight is–”
On the horizon lay an entire fleet of drones.
“Now that’s more like it,” said Egg Roll.
White lights appeared on the horizon.
“Are those landing lights?” Laura asked.
The lights were coming closer. Fast.
“They’re missiles,” Danny called out. “Break off!”
“Shit!” said Canary.
“Shit indeed, sir,” said Howard.
Simultaneously the Golden Dragons climbed, banked, rolled, and dove. Each jet released a shower of flares to distract the heat-seeking missiles.
The G-950 pulled up hard and banked left, executing a precision barrel roll as a missile streaked by. Howard performed a similar maneuver and narrowly evaded two missiles.
Danny rolled and flew through the missiles’ twin exhaust plumes just as a missile impacted the water where his jet had been one second earlier. The missile detonated, and Danny felt the heat on his face. He banked hard to the left and headed for the big 950.
Canary had two drones chasing him, firing cannons as they went. Orange tracer rounds filled the sky. Canary banked and rolled, pushing the big airplane harder and harder.
“Egg Roll, this is Viper. Big Bird needs backup.”
“Already on it,” radioed Egg Roll. Egg Roll’s attack jet rolled inverted and dove on Canary and Laura. Egg Roll opened fire with his Vulcan cannon. Green tracer rounds streaked through the night sky and cut the drones in half.
“Watch your six, Viper,” said Egg Roll.
A drone opened fire.
Danny rolled and the stream of bullets whizzed over his wings and past his canopy. He dove for the water, with the drone right behind him.
Egg Roll did his best to get into position. “Viper, I can’t get a shot. Watch out.”
Danny was going to hit the water. He pulled hard on his stick. His down-draft kicked up a spray of seawater.
The drone pulled up too late and hit the dark water. It tumbled, broke into pieces, and exploded.
The 288 flew directly in front of Danny. Howard’s red eyes glowed inside the cockpit. Danny could swear Howard was smiling.
Danny keyed his mic. “You need help, Howard?”
“Negative, sir.” A drone was hot on Howard’s tail. Howard had the fast and nimble 288 in a tight, banking left turn, so low that his wingtip nearly skimmed the ocean’s surface. Howard did not have lungs, did not breathe oxygen, and did not feel the tremendous gravitational forces as he steepened his turn. Thus his voice was perfectly calm, to the point of being almost comical.
Howard turned, turned, the 288 now perpendicular to the sea. Steeper and steeper, until at last the drone nosed down out of its pursuit, hit the water, and crashed.
“Well done, Howard,” Danny radioed.
“Thank you, sir. The drones have smaller wings, thus a higher stall speed. We can out-fly them.”
“I’ll remember that.” Danny surveyed the sky. “Big Bird, this is Viper, what’s your position?”
Laura’s voice came over the radio. “We’re . . . up high. And in . . . trouble.” Laura grunted as she spoke, like she couldn’t breathe.
Danny spotted them about one thousand feet up. The big jet was climbing hard out of a steep dive, subjecting Canary, Laura, and the others to gee-forces several times their own weight. The plane’s wings flexed and both engines roared. Three drones flew directly behind it. The lead drone opened fire. Orange tracers rent the sky, ripping into the tall tail of the big jet.
Canary rolled hard right and dove in a massive corkscrew.
The three drones followed, firing as they went. Streams of bullets lit up the sky, long and orange like ropes.
EggRoll and A-hole rolled into position behind the drones. Green tracers filled the air as the aircraft rolled through the sky.
Heavy breathing and harried voices barking commands over the radio filled Danny’s helmet. Everywhere he looked, aircraft filled the night. Drones and Dragons swooped, banked, and dove, taking evasive action and angling for position.
Danny found himself flying head to head with a drone. Orange lights flashed as its cannon fired. Danny rolled inverted and flew directly over the top of the drone. Everything slowed down. Where the drone’s canopy and pilot should’ve been, there was only a matte-black grid, behind which were arrays of flashing red lights, the extent of the drone’s brain.
And then it was gone.
Danny rolled level in time to see a missile slam into the drone, destroying it utterly. A Golden Dragon rolled inverted over the top of the Viper Jet. Danny looked up as its pilot gave him a crisp salute. Danny saluted. Then the fighter banked away in pursuit of another drone.
Danny found Howard and Bernard in the 288. He dropped into position beside them. Several bullet holes were raked across the tip of one wing, including the jagged remains of the upturned winglet.
“You’re hit,” Danny radioed.
“You should see the other guy,” said Bernard.
Danny surveyed the windows on the 288. It was too dark inside the airplane’s cabin to see. “Everybody okay in there?”
“No casualties,” said Howard.
Above them, the 950 was taking fire. Egg Roll and A-hole let fly with their bullets. Canary continued to bank and roll, pushing the big Gulfstream to do things no one had ever dared try.
The drones were relentless. Orange tracers chased the bigger jet.
Egg Roll managed to rake his stream of ammunition across the drones’ flight path. He anticipated their position perfectly. Green tracers ripped through the drones, shredding them. Flaming wreckage tumbled from the sky.
But only after a drone strafed one of the Gulfstream’s engine nacelles. The engine exploded. Orange fire and black smoke streamed from the airplane. It rolled inverted and dove, plummeting toward the water.
Danny could only watch.
Black smoke poured from the 950 where the engine had been. The airplane spiraled down, inverted and turning in a slow arc.
There was no way Canary could pull out of it. They were simply too low.
Below them, the ocean was awash with flaming debris like dozens of floating bonfires that filled the night with an orange glow.
Lower and lower the wounded airplane fell.
It rolled upright for a final time. Danny waited for the impact. He could not breathe.
The airplane banked hard to the right, its long white nose angled slowly, gradually, desperately toward the sky. Its one remaining engine screamed, virtually willing the jet back into controlled flight.
The descent ceased. The jet rolled level and angled upward. It climbed slowly away from the sea littered with burning wreckage, and leveled off.
Danny took a position alongside the bigger plane. Howard did the same on the opposite side, as did Egg Roll and A-hole.
From inside the cockpit, Canary turned and looked at Danny.
Canary’s voice came over the radio. “Anybody seen an engine?”
Laughter filled the night. Egg Roll and A-hole and the other Dragons laughed heartily, full of relief and admiration.
“I thought you were a goner,” Egg Roll radioed.
Canary’s voice sounded shaky. “So did I.”
“Can that thing fly on one engine?” A-hole asked.
“A
pparently,” said Canary.
“Hell of a way to find out,” said A-hole.
“The island is in sight,” said Danny. “Mr. C., we’ll follow you down. EggRoll, you guys provide close air support so we can get down.”
“Roger that, Viper. We’ll clear the beach.”
“Roger. And thanks.”
“Just another day at the office.” Egg Roll performed a brisk 540-degree roll and dove for the water, gunning down a drone as he went. He formed up with Egg Roll and several other Dragons. They flew over the beach toward the runway. The airfield was full of ground-based anti-aircraft drones.
“Targets acquired,” said Egg Roll. “Fire.”
Missiles streaked toward the airfield. The drones were blasted to pieces.
“Viper, you are cleared to land,” said Egg Roll.
“Roger that. Nice work. After you, Mister C.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” said Canary. “Gear down.”
Danny reduced his throttle and dropped his own flaps and gear as Canary struggled to land the crippled jet. The nose of the 950 yawed side to side. The wings rocked. The landing gear touched the runway and screeched, sending up white smoke. The aircraft skidded once, the nosewheel touched, and they were safely down. Once Canary was clear of the runway, Danny touched down. Howard and Bernard followed.
Everyone deplaned at the end of the runway, in awe of the damage the jets had endured.
They huddled behind the 288. Everyone was dressed in black camouflage and body armor. And fully armed.
“We’re here,” said Rory. “How do we get inside?”
“Phase Two,” said Danny. “Zammy, it’s showtime.”
“Leave everything to me.” Zammy pulled out his phone and made a call. “We’re in position.” He hung up. “You guys are going to love this. Keep your eyes on the beach.”
Moments later, six, eight, ten, a dozen vehicles surfaced just beyond the breakers. The low hum of stealth-enabled engines filled the air and the vehicles rode the waves onto the beach.
Danny watched in awe. “Hovercraft?”
“Water Striders,” said Zammy. “Submersible all-terrain vehicles. Special Forces use them all the time. Fast in, fast out.”
The hovercraft rode up the beach and onto the airfield. The lead hovercraft angled toward the airplanes. The others formed a defensive perimeter.
Eye Candy Page 38
