Ahead, _Schturming_’s inner lights winked through her portholes. Paired with the moonlight, that would have to be enough. So long as they were in sight, he could find the ship. The moment those lights winked out, she was as good as gone.
He puffed in breath after breath, his lungs working too frantically. Calm down. Think. He regulated his breathing. First thing that had to be done here was to keep Schturming from gaining altitude too fast. The lower it stayed, the better the chance it wouldn’t get away from him. He opened the throttle and careened past the airship, all the way to its prow.
Next thing would be to somehow get Walter and Aurelia out of there. Another of the rope ladders he and Rick used for car-to-plane transfers—like the one they’d used to clog _Schturming_’s propellers earlier today—was already secured and rolled up under the wing, just waiting to be of use. If he matched speed with _Schturming_—and if Zlo still had his hostages up top—maybe Jael could climb down the ladder and help them into the plane. It was risky. Insane, actually. But it was better than nothing.
He knocked his fist against his windshield and waved his arm until he got Jael to look back at him. Then he mimed unfastening the ladder and climbing it.
The Jenny reached the front of the dirigible. With a yell, he slipped her in closer than was good for anybody’s nerves. He nipped right under the front of the envelope, athwartships, and practically right over the top of the bow. The wind pressure shifted momentarily, and the sound of people yelping in surprise made it to his ears.
Ever so slowly and ever so slightly, Schturming edged down and to port.
Wasn’t much. But it was something. He allowed himself a tight grin.
He swung the Jenny back around to the stern. They’d make one pass over the top to scope things out. Then, with any luck, Jael would get the same idea and chuck the ladder over the side.
He swooped in low, barely twelve feet above the envelope. The Jenny’s forward bulk kept him from seeing straight ahead, so he kept the walkway under his left wing where he could monitor it.
In the front cockpit, Jael leaned over the side to see past the lower wing.
He held his breath and strained his eyes.
Nothing but white and more white. Maybe Zlo had already taken Walter and Aurelia down to the ship.
Then Jael stood up so fast the whole plane flinched.
He looked from her to the walkway. There. A large blot of black separated itself into half a dozen smaller shadows. Six pale faces looked up toward the Jenny.
Hitch bared his teeth. “Got you now.”
That was when Zlo’s men threw both Walter and Aurelia over the railing.
Every vein in Hitch’s body seemed to explode. The Jenny roared on past, and he whipped his head back to see over his shoulder.
For an instant, they both clung to the railing. Walter was better visible against the envelope, thanks to his dark suit and his dark hair. He seemed to be reaching for Aurelia. She was slipping, slipping. He was grabbing for her hand, trying to pull her back. But her weight was too much for him. Both of them lost their grip and skidded down the side of the envelope.
“No!” Hitch shouted.
Zlo and his men glanced from the empty railing up to the Jenny. Then they turned and ran back down the walkway, headed inside.
Still standing in the front cockpit, Jael waved her arms and moved her mouth. But the wind swept away her words.
Hitch’s mind spun in blank circles. His hands and feet seemed to operate entirely on their own. He turned the Jenny around and made another pass down the side of the envelope.
The mountain of white stretched forever. And then—the two shadows appeared against the endless envelope.
He exhaled hard.
Somehow, by some outright miracle, Walter and Aurelia had caught one of the ropes that were still slung over the top of the envelope from when Campbell had moored her earlier that evening. The rope must have caught on something on the other side, but it wasn’t secure. Walter and Aurelia were descending: a few inches every minute. Twirling, they clung—Walter above Aurelia’s head. Even if the rope could hold, they couldn’t.
In front of him, Jael flung first one stocking and then the other out of the plane.
For the love of Mike, what now?
Then she stood up, and it all made sense. His heart kept right on galloping. But if anybody could pull this off, she could.
The ladder was their only chance now. If he could get the ladder within reach, maybe Aurelia and Walter could grab on to it. Maybe. He growled. That kind of trick was scary enough with a seasoned professional, much less an addled woman and a little boy.
Jael gripped the cabane struts holding up the top wing. She swung out first one bare foot and then the other. As soon as her toes touched the canvas, she leaned forward and grabbed the guy wires. Hand over hand, she passed herself from the wire to the strut near where the ladder was affixed. She looked a whole lot more like a monkey than that society belle she’d been imitating earlier.
She unfastened the ladder and it exploded out into the wind.
He applied opposite stick to compensate for her offsetting the center of gravity, then eased the Jenny around for one more pass. All he had to do was get the ladder in close enough for Jael to help Walter and Aurelia onto the ladder—and then keep the plane steady while he matched pace with Schturming.
Sweat trickled down the side of his nose into his mouth. He licked it away.
Walter and Aurelia still clung to the rope. They’d already slid halfway down the envelope. That rope could give at any second.
He rammed the Jenny in close to the envelope. And then closer yet.
Only Jael, crouching on the wing, held steady. Her skirt whipped around her thighs. She gripped the heavy strut with one hand, then swung herself under the wing and down onto the ladder.
Let her make it, just let her make it. Hitch held his breath.
Between the wings, Aurelia blinked into view.
Hitch throttled back just a little and rose until Aurelia was beneath him, hopefully right where Jael could reach her and guide her hand onto the ladder. Nope, too much. He gunned the engine the tiniest of smidges, then held steady.
Aurelia’s wails filtered to him. Jael shouted something.
Aurelia rose out of view above the top wing.
That was bad. Schturming was climbing. Hitch nudged the stick back and added a little power to match the climb. Ahead, the sky was a black wall. If he lost Schturming in this, that’d be it for good and all.
Once more, the Jenny’s wingtip hung steady beside Aurelia.
Still wailing, Aurelia pried one hand loose from the rope and lowered it toward Jael. Immediately, she slid a good five feet down the side of the envelope.
Hitch pitched down and reduced power to keep up with her.
She reached again—and let go of the rope with her other hand.
His heart somersaulted in his throat for a second.
But then the Jenny took the full brunt of Aurelia’s weight on the ladder. Jael had caught her. The plane’s whole frame shuddered. Hitch overcompensated, and the Jenny yawed hard left, away from the dirigible—and Walter.
Hitch fought with the controls. The weight beneath him swung around, first one way, then the other.
Jael had to get Aurelia under control, or they were all in big trouble.
He gritted his teeth. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, baby.”