“How you doing up there?”
“Easiest thing I’ve done on this mission,” Frank answered. “I think I missed my calling.” Frank leaned forward and tapped on a gauge. “Hmmm.”
“What?”
“Fuel seems to be dropping faster than I would have thought.”
“That’s not good. Do we have enough to make it?”
“I have no idea. I hope so.” Frank looked ahead as the landscape passed below. “What we need is a big sign that says you have left Russia.”
“I wonder if one of those rounds did some damage?”
“Wonderful,” Frank replied sarcastically. “Couldn’t hit a damn window. Shit!”
“Climb.”
“You okay, Will?”
“Climb,” Jenner choked. “Gain some altitude.”
“How high?”
“Get to,” Will closed his eyes, his mind scrambling. “Get to ten thousand.”
“Why?”
“Just do it.”
“Aye Captain,” Frank replied.
He pulled back on the wheel and let the plane begin a slow climb. He called it off as he went. Five thousand. Seven thousand. Eight. Nine thousand. Ten thousand feet.
“How long have we been in the air?”
“About an hour and a half.”
“That should put us over the Baltic states.”
“And out of Russia,” Ruth answered, finishing his sentence. “That makes me feel safer.” She pulled her coat tightly around her shoulders. “It’s cold in here.”
“Perhaps you shouldn’t have shot out the window,” Frank replied.
“Whew.” Will wiped his forehead with this sleeve. “How long have I been out?” His voice was strained. He grimaced as he coughed. “Ohhhh. I have a splitting headache.”
“Now where to?”
“Just keep going. We’re more exposed at this altitude, but we don’t have a choice if we’re losing fuel.”
“At least we’ve left Ivan behind.”
“Don’t bet on that Ruth,” Will said. “The Russian Air Force still has a long reach, even these days.”
“Well, don’t that just make me feel better.”
“They still pretty much have free reign over the Baltic skies.” Will adjusted himself in the seat, his leg rebelling at the action. “Adjust your course to two-seven-zero degrees.”
Frank scanned the panel before finding the compass. He was beginning to feel comfortable with the instruments, but knew in a moment of panic, he could easily get into trouble. He gave the wheel a gentle turn and watched the ground slip beneath them. Piloting was a wonderful feeling.
The doors closed behind them as the exiting crowd pushed them out into the terminal. Polina had a death grip on Ivan’s hand and he pulled her along behind. He stopped amid the bustle, searching for … there! Polina nearly toppled to the ground when he started off. They were up against the terminal wall moments later.
“Who are you going to call? I don’t remember having a check-in for this mission.”
“We don’t, at least as far as anything I was told. Maybe Sasha had a contact for trouble. If he did, it should have been something passed along to us.”
“Then what are you going to do?”
“A couple weeks after getting my first assignment as a lieutenant, my CO and I had a long discussion. He sort of, took me under his wing.”
“That’s kind of hard to do with you being as tall as a goalpost,” she said with a grin.”
“Anyway,” Ivan replied, “he told me if I ever got into a jamb, give him a call.” He turned and picked up the receiver on the phone and tried to read the instructions. “So, that’s what I’m going to do.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.” A few minutes later the line was picked up on the other end.
“Colonel Masters’ office.”
“Colonel Masters please.”
“May I ask who is calling?”
“Lieutenant Kyle Anthony. Please tell Colonel Masters it’s urgent.”
“I’ll patch you through, Lieutenant.”
“Masters.” The voice on the other end was the best thing he’d heard in weeks.
“Colonel? Kyle Anthony.”
“Anthony. Good to hear from you. When can I expect you back? I’m in the dark about what’s happening with you.”
“For good reason, sir. But I need your help, big time. Things haven’t gone completely as planned.” Ivan turned into the phone to shield his voice from the passing crowd. As he hung up the phone, he felt relieved. It was like talking to his father. ‘A few calls, that’s all that has to happen’, he thought.
Colonel Brett Masters leaned back in his chair as the phone dropped from his hand. He was summarily stunned. It was completely out of his character to be caught off guard by, well, nearly anything. What he’d just heard was almost unimaginable, a deep mission inside Russia itself. And it was with one of his men. In all his thirty years, he’d never heard of anything like this, and he’d heard a lot. The intercom buzzed and his aide picked it up quickly.
“Yes Colonel?”
“I need the number to the White House, and I need it quickly.”
“The White House, yes sir.”
Masters slid the cordless phone across his desk as he leaned back. He had to think. What was he going to say? Who was he going to say it to? His thoughts were interrupted within a few minutes when his aide walked into his office.
“Colonel,” his aide said as he handed over the paper, “here is the number you requested.” Masters took the paper and scanned it.
“Thank you.” His reply was short which told the aide he needed to leave quietly. He heard the phone dialing as he made the doorway. The next words he heard raised his eyebrows.
“This is Colonel Brett Masters. I need to speak to Mr. Martin Powell. It’s rather urgent.” Masters stood and began to pace behind his desk. It would take some time to get through, he was sure of it.
“Martin Powell.”
“Mr. Powell,” Masters said in a surprised voice, “Colonel Brett Masters. I have an urgent matter to discuss with you.”
“I’m sorry, Colonel, do I know you?”
“No sir. We have never met. But we have a friend in common that needs your help.”
“We do? And who would that be?”
“Yes sir. Lieutenant Kyle Anthony.”
“You have my attention, Colonel.”
“I wish I knew where we actually were.”
“Doesn’t this thing have GPS?”
“Not his old tub Ruth,” Will replied, “but I think I know where we are.”
“Any how would you know that?”
“A few landmarks. A pilot always studies landmarks. It’s an occupational habit,” Will said with a weak reply.
“So, where are we?”
“Less than an hour from the coast, I think. When you see the coast, just follow it to Denmark and we’re home.”
“But we’re running out of fuel.”
“Better to run out near land than over water. We’ll have a landing platform somewhere.” Will sounded exhausted. He leaned his head back in the seat and patted Frank’s leg. “I’m sure you’ll do fine.” He was asleep again moments later.
Will suddenly perked up as he felt a dull rumble through his bones. It was a feeling only a fighter pilot would know. He looked down the side of the Cessna, then above and below. The next sound was unmistakable.
“Shit!”
“Shit is right, Frank,” Ruth yelled. “Get us the hell out of here.”
“Will?”
“Down, Frank. Down!”
The Cessna dove, its engines whining as Will reached over and pushed the throttle levers full up.
“Turn away from him.”
Frank responded by turning the wheel left. His eyes widened as the ground rushed toward them. The roar that passed began to make its presence known again. The Russian fighter blew past and the Cessna wobbled in its wake.