by E. J. Blaine
“Christopher, for the last time, come with us,” Doc begged. “We can dump weight. We’ll get you out somehow.”
“Thank you, Dorothy,” Rhys said with a smile. “This is where I belong now.”
Rhys had found the spear he’d made in his first days in the jungle, and now he leaned on it with an ammunition belt slung across his chest and a pair of long-barreled Lugers in wooden holsters on his hips. If he could still shoot the way he had earlier, Jack thought, he didn’t like the Silver Star’s chances of reclaiming the valley from him.
“We’ll come back and check on you, at least,” said Jack. “Bring you supplies. We won’t abandon you up here.”
Doc hugged him one more time, then they helped her climb into the small cargo bay. She sat behind the cockpit with her head and shoulders jutting out of the fuselage.
Then Jack and Rhys shook hands. “Good luck,” said Jack.
Rhys gave him an enigmatic smile. “Take care of her.”
Jack nodded and climbed into the cockpit. He pulled the stick all the way back, opened the fuel valve, and shouted “Contact!” Rhys spun the propeller and the engine caught immediately. Rhys moved away to the side, and the plane started forward. Jack turned it down the airstrip and threw the throttle open. They accelerated into the wind, gaining speed fast. He felt the wheels lift off the ground, and they were airborne. Jack turned and headed for the canyon mouth.
As they approached the canyon, Jack took one more look back at this strange land. The last he saw of Rhys, he was standing with his spear thrust skyward in salute. Then they were into the canyon, and Jack’s attention was focused completely on his flying.
Coming out wasn’t the same as flying in. The canyon’s narrow twists and gaps were different from the other direction. The short cave was actually much easier this way, with the light coming from behind them. He shot through with no trouble this time. The next two turns were equally simple. But coming up on the third, Jack realized it was going to be trickier in this direction. He’d have to turn blind, thread a narrow gap, then immediately climb for all he was worth to make it over the steep slope he’d come down on the way in. He considered how fast he could safely make the turn itself, and edged the throttle forward.
“Hang on,” he shouted back to Doc. Then they were into the turn. Jack rolled sharply to his left, watching the wall of the canyon coming up fast then disappear right under the nose. He leveled out and yanked the stick back.
And nearly flew directly into an oncoming airplane.
Even before he registered that this was an enemy fighter, Jack was slewing to the right on pure instinct. There was nowhere else to go. He was already climbing as steeply as he could to stay above the canyon floor. He slid to the right, then steered back again, barely clearing the other plane.
For the other pilot, there was just nowhere to go. Jack had appeared at the worst possible instant. His choices were to fly straight into the oncoming plane or dodge into the canyon wall. Jack heard Doc scream, then the crunch of the airframe crumpling against the stone. He could only see out of the corner of his eye as the debris tumbled down the side of the cliff, the engine trailing a corkscrew of smoke.
“Look out!” Doc shrieked as they cleared the slope and the canyon opened up. Suddenly there were Silver Star fighters everywhere. Jack counted three waiting to follow their now dead leader through the turn. The first one passed right over them, barely missing the wing, and disappeared behind them. The pilot was already committed, Jack realized. There was nothing he could do but complete the turn and come out on the other side of the bend. It would take him some time to come around and get back into the fight. That meant, for a minute or so at least, he only had two to worry about.
The second pilot pulled sharply up to get out of Jack’s way. But the third one had time to react. He lined up and opened fire. Jack heard bullets ripping through the fabric of the upper wing and slewed right, toward the canyon wall.
There wasn’t much room to maneuver here. The cliffs were immediately in his windscreen again. He looked up and realized he didn’t have much ceiling to work with either. His instincts took over. Doc screamed again as Jack stood the plane on its left wingtip and pulled back hard on the stick. He braced himself for impact, but the wheels barely cleared the cliff, and he was leveling out and scanning the sky for the enemy planes.
He saw one high above him. The second one in line, he realized. The pilot was trying to do a loop to bring himself back around to fire. He was going for the high position, just like he’d been taught in the war no doubt. But this wasn’t the place for that kind of maneuver. The pilot was focused on Jack’s plane, not on staying within the shelter of the cliffs.
He’s cutting it awful close, Jack thought. Too close. As Jack watched, the wings dipped into the fierce mountain winds above the canyon walls. The airspeed over the wings was suddenly doubled or tripled, and that meant lift. The plane seemed to fall upward at impossible speed, twirling out of control. Then it was simply gone, as if God himself had reached down and plucked it out of the sky.
Bullets spattered against the stone, yanking Jack’s attention back to the remaining plane. He jerked the stick back and forth, making himself a tougher target. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the first plane, the one that had disappeared around the bend, coming back.
Jack pointed his nose back down the canyon and sped away. He had guns of his own, but there was no sense trying to dogfight in this confined space. He’d seen how that ended. Let them chase him.
A moment later another sound cut through the drone of the engine, a dull bass thump that no one who fought in the war could ever forget. An artillery barrage. That could only mean one thing. Jack opened the throttle to full and hoped they weren’t already too late.
He raced the remaining two Silver Star pilots down the canyon, dodging fire as he went. Taking the tight turns would give him an occasional respite, but then the enemy planes would come around and line him up again. The plane had taken some damage, but nothing serious, and they were both unhurt. So far, they’d been lucky.
Jack came around the last bend and flew straight into a thick cloud of smoke and rock dust. Ahead there was an explosion in the cliff face and huge chunks of stone rained down. He could make out the dark shape of the Luftpanzer ahead and above, raining down fire. Maria Blutig would seal off this place forever and sacrifice the Silver Star’s plans for the valley if it meant destroying him.
“Jack, what are we going to do?” Doc shouted.
“Only one thing we can do,” he called back.
“I was afraid you’d say that.”
“Hang on!” he shouted. Then a shell screamed in overhead and gravel rained down on the wings.
Suddenly, Jack seemed detached from everything around him. He was calm somehow, when he knew he should be too terrified to function. That was probably it, he thought. If he wasn’t separated from what was going on around him, he’d be a gibbering mess, and then he’d fly into a rock wall.
Bullets slashed past, shredded part of the lower left wingtip. The Silver Star pilots were nothing if not persistent. In their place, he’d be less concerned with shooting him down than with getting out of this place alive.
Jack rolled the plane and shot sideways down a narrow gap. He heard Doc’s wail behind him. Then they came out into a wider stretch, and Jack could see the canyon mouth. But he realized they weren’t out yet. The barrage had been at its worst here. Huge fingers of rock were separating from the wall and falling against each other.
Jack dove straight into the mass of falling stone. On either side of them, enormous towers spun and toppled. He wouldn’t be able to keep his promise to Christopher Rhys, he realized. Maria Blutig was sealing the canyon off for good.
He aimed the plane by instinct, pointing toward the light as shadow and stone closed in around him. A huge wall of rock had detached ahead and to his left. It was falling straight across the canyon like a brick wall someone had toppled over. Jack dove to pick up spe
ed. They’d make it out or they’d die beneath those tons of stone. Jack had no idea which. That was up to fate now.
It was like flying through a hailstorm as pebbles and chunks of rock pelted the plane. To his left, one of the Silver Star fighters exploded into a rain of debris. He’d lost track of the other one.
Jack looked up and for a moment he couldn’t see the sky at all. There was nothing but rock above, falling down to crush him against the canyon floor. There was a roar like the world tearing in two.
Then the plane shot free, into open air. Jack whooped with the sheer joy of it. The Himalayas lay spread out beneath him, snowcaps gleaming in the afternoon sun. He couldn’t stop laughing. What a beautiful place to fly.
“Jack!” Doc shouted. “The Luftpanzer!”
The great airship was bearing down on them. The field guns had fallen silent, but the ship had plenty of machine guns that could tear them apart. Jack veered off, dove for speed, and raced away down the line of mountains.
He switched on the radio and heard Silver Star chatter. Someone aboard Luftpanzer was trying to raise their pilots. Jack suspected they wouldn’t have any luck. He grabbed the mic.
“Luftpanzer, Luftpanzer, this is Jack McGraw calling,” he shouted. “Is Maria Blutig aboard?”
A few moments later, he heard her voice. “Damn you to hell, McGraw,” she snarled. “I swear I’ll kill you!”
“You sure do try, don’t you?” Jack called back. “But not today. Just wanted to let you know I’m alive and well. Going to have to borrow your plane here. Hope you don’t mind. You have a nice day now.”
He flew away, outpacing the huge airship as he dove down out of the high mountains. He let Maria rain curses and threats down on him by radio until the transmission faded. Then he switched frequencies.
“Daedalus,” he called, “come in Daedalus, are you out there?”
For a few moments, there was nothing, then he heard Duke’s voice, tight with excitement. “This is the Daedalus. Jack, is that you? Are you all right?”
“We’re okay, Duke,” Jack answered. “Though I don’t know if Doc’s going to want to fly with me after this. Be aware we’re in a stolen Silver Star fighter, so don’t go blowing us out of the sky or anything.”
“Understood,” said Duke.
“I don’t know if this thing’s got enough fuel to make it back to Almora,” he added. “We may need a pickup somewhere.”
“You got it Jack. We’ll find a safe place to put down and we’ll guide you in. Hey Deadeye, break out the charts! I’ve got them!”
Chapter 24
Delhi, four days later.
“Now let me make sure I understand what I’m hearing,” said Padger, sitting up in his hospital bed. The crew had rushed to Delhi as soon as they made it back. Padger still wasn’t ready to fly, but they were happy to see that he was well on his way. Then they had to tell him what they’d done to his Bristol.
“First, while I was laid up and unable to stop you, you lot stole my airplane. Then you went and crashed it in the mountains.”
Jack tried to look appropriately sheepish, but Padger’s barely contained grin made it difficult. “Shot down,” he said. “Not crashed, exactly.”
“Oh, so you think stealing my airplane and getting it shot down is better than just crashing it, then?”
“Well, isn’t it? A little anyway? I mean that’s mostly on the Silver Star.”
Padger dismissed the argument with an imperious wave. “The aircraft impacted the ground at a high rate of speed. It was rendered less than airworthy and must be considered a loss.”
“I think that’s fair,” said Doc. Padger winked at her.
“So then you stole another airplane, one of those Silver Star jobbies they carry around in their zeppelin. Perhaps with the thought of bringing it back to me as at least some recompense, however inadequate, for the grievous harm you’d done me. But then you crashed that too. Is that the story?”
“Well, not exactly,” said Jack.
“No, you never exactly crash, do you?” said Padger. At this Deadeye lost it completely and had to turn into the corner, shaking with laughter.
“But you ran it out of fuel and left it somewhere back in the mountains where there’s no hope of recovering it. So when they finally let me out of this place, I’ll be stranded here, without my livelihood and only means of support. Is that what you’re telling me?”
“Well, it’s not entirely bad news,” said Jack.
“Right,” Duke added. “Look at it this way. You don’t have to worry about the RAF auditing the paperwork and figuring out you stole a much better airplane than the one you paid them for.”
“Balderdash!” Padger snapped. “That plane was precisely as described in the purchase contract. Bristol F.2 airframe with a Sunbeam Arab engine.”
Rivets snorted. “If that was a Sunbeam Arab, I’m Rudy Valentino.”
“Go check the serial numbers if you don’t believe me!”
“Nonsense!” said Rivets. “You swapped the ID plate from an Arab onto a Rolls Falcon engine, and you slipped it by some idiot quartermaster that didn’t know an airplane from a farm tractor!”
“Prove it!” Padger shot back.
“Exactly!” said Duke, reaching out to take Rivets by the shoulders and calm him down. “They’ll never find that airplane. The evidence is gone, and you’re in the clear. We did you a favor if you think about it.”
Padger feigned shock. “You villain!”
“We do have a peace offering,” Jack interjected. “We feel bad about everything that’s happened, so we talked to AEGIS, and there’s a job waiting for you when you’re back on your feet.”
Padger looked suspicious. “What kind of job?”
“This is obviously a part of the world AEGIS can no longer ignore,” said Doc. “We need eyes on the ground, and in the air. We need someone who knows the region, someone with mobility, and someone who can handle themselves in a fight.”
“Well, that’s kind of you to say, but I don’t get around so well now that someone went and wrecked my Biff.” He shot a look at Jack.
“We mentioned that to Mr. Edison,” said Jack. “We told him without an airplane you’re no good to anyone. You just lie in bed all day and complain.”
“Why you—”
“So he pulled some strings, and we got you a new airplane.” He took a folder from a satchel he’d brought along.
“Did you now?” said Padger with a raised eyebrow. “Well, what kind of plane are we talking about?”
Jack opened the folder and produced a thin stack of drawings and spec sheets. “Brand new Boeing Model 40-A,” he said. “They’re making them for mail service in America, but they won’t even go into service there until next year. Yours is an off the books prototype. It’s on its way here now.”
“Oh, let’s have a look at that,” Padger said, reaching for his breakfast tray and spreading out the papers Jack handed him.
“She’ll carry two passengers and twelve hundred pounds of cargo,.” Said Jack. “Upgraded engine from the original Model 40 too. She’s got the new Pratt and Whitney Wasp. Four hundred and twenty horsepower.”
“Oh, my word,” Padger murmured as he scanned the performance figures.
“Those are the official numbers, by the way,” Jack added. “AEGIS made a few…enhancements before she left the states. You’ll find she’ll do a bit more than you see there.”
“Oh, mate,” Padger said, “all is forgiven!”
The others crowded around to check out the specs of the new airplane, but Jack hung back a moment and looked over the crew. His crew. They’d taken the fight to the Silver Star one more time, and won. They hadn’t gotten away without taking a few punches themselves. Dr. Rhys was stranded in the valley, probably forever given the destruction of the only safe passage through the mountains. Rhys was a good man, and he’d been a valuable ally. Jack hated knowing he could do nothing to rescue him. But the source of the poison was gone now, and Doc had
all she needed to create an antidote for any poison remaining in the Silver Star’s hands. Overall, it was a victory.
It was a good note to end things on, he thought.
He drifted silently away from the group at the bedside and slipped through the curtains onto the balcony. He leaned against the rusting wrought iron railing and looked out over the building’s courtyard. Below, a nurse pushed a patient across the grass in a wheelchair.
“Hey,” Doc murmured suddenly at his side, “the party’s inside. What are you doing out here by yourself?”
“I was just thinking how much I’m going to miss all this,” he said.
“What are you talking about?”
“We came back because Mr. Edison needed us, and I thought we’d see how it worked. But look what happened. We can’t keep living like this!”
“Oh, nonsense. Is this because of Ellen? You didn’t have a problem with us risking our lives before I told you she was yours.”
She glanced over her shoulder and made sure no one would overhear them from Padger’s room. No chance of that Jack realized. They were all talking at once.
“It’s different,” Jack protested. “We’ve got a daughter now! She needs us.”
“Well, I’ve had a daughter for years,” she reminded him. “You think I didn’t think about that? Believe me, I thought about it. And I’m sorry if all this is new and frightening for you, Jack McGraw, but it’s nothing new to me, so you shut up and listen for once.”
Jack recognized her tone. He shut up and listened.
“We didn’t come back to try it out, or to do one last favor for Mr. Edison,” she said. “We came back because we’ve got a daughter to think of, and she’s got to live in this messed up world. Now there’s a lot of good people in it, but there’s a lot of vile, noxious sons of bitches out there too. The Silver Star not the least of them. So we’re back because we owe Ellen a better world, even if we have to kill every one of those rotten bastards in it ourselves.”
