Sam pulled the lever all the way backwards and the magnetic brakes slowed them to a standstill in a matter of seconds. They were both out of the rollercoaster in another two seconds. And their attackers slammed into the back of their cart one second after that.
Sparks, and mingled fragments of glass, steel and blood shot through the dark tunnel ahead as the two tunnel vehicles smashed into each other.
Sam raced through the ice tunnel to where the elevator was thankfully waiting for them. On the surface they both kept a fast pace somewhere between a jog and a run. Time was running out faster than they could keep up. If they lost this thing, they’d need to wait another hundred years to use electricity again.
The sunlight opened up in the distance.
“I don’t mean to bring a bit of a downer to your party,” Tom said. “But given the Sikorsky has no electricals — how do you suggest we get out of here?”
Sam looked at the yellow de-Havilland Tiger Moth. “It looks like they kindly left us with transport.”
Chapter Seventy-Four
Tom climbed into the forward cockpit of the Tiger Moth. The little bi-plane was painted a bright yellow and had tandem seating with controls at the forward and aft cockpits. “After what I saw you do with the tunnel vehicle, I think I’ll fly.”
Sam grinned as he moved to the single propeller at the front. “Sure, but may I remind you what happened to the last aircraft you flew?”
“Hey, the Sikorsky flew through some sort of magnetic field which shorted all its avionics!” Tom opened the fuel line. “All right, spin the prop!”
Sam spun it hard, but nothing happened.
Tom pushed the choke button all the way in and said, “Okay, go again.”
He watched as Sam tried to spin the prop but the engine failed to fire. It was severely cold and it was a wonder someone had ever got the damned thing to fly in the area. “Try it again or I’m going to have to get out and push.”
Sam pulled down on the outward blade of the wooden propeller — hard. The engine fired and Tom slowly increased the fuel pressure until it was running smoothly. The propeller pulled at the old biplane and Tom found the two front wheels failed to hold in the snow.
“You’d better hop on, Sam.”
Tom eased the throttle back as far as he dared until Sam had climbed in and then pushed it forwards again. With the fuel line open, the aircraft began to hum as it moved forward. Tom taxied using the awkward tiller bar to steer the cumbersome tail dragger.
Once out from the edge of the ice chasm and onto the flat ice that made up the vast majority of East Antarctica Tom pushed the throttle fully in and the engine roared. Tom held the spritely aircraft on the ground until it couldn’t take it any longer. He gently pulled the stick towards his chest and they were in the air.
He checked the compass and climbed in a northerly direction towards the Maria Helena. It took a few minutes, but he found himself starting to get used to the old controls. He remembered his training pilot in the Corps telling him the Tiger Moth had proved to be an ideal trainer once upon a time. It was simple and cheap to own and maintain. The control movements required a positive and sure hand as there was a slowness to control inputs. His trainer had told him that during Second World War instructors preferred these flight characteristics because of their effect at weeding out the inept student pilot.
Tom flicked the radio on. Immediately, the sound of Gloomy Sunday began playing loudly. He went to switch it off again.
“Wait!” Sam yelled just above the sound of the engine.
“What?”
“Turn the radio back on!”
Tom switched it back on. “We can’t pick up anything or communicate with the Maria Helena — that stupid song is still playing.”
“I know.”
“So why do you want to listen to it?” Tom grinned. “You don’t think our situation is that bad, do you?”
“No. I just saw the old Radio Direction Finder — on the right.”
Tom adjusted the radio’s loop antenna. It was basically a small loop of metal wire mounted so it could be rotated around a vertical axis. At most angles the loop has a fairly flat reception pattern, but when it is aligned perpendicular to the station, the signal received on one side of the loop cancels the signal in the other, producing a sharp drop in reception known as the "null.” He slowly rotated the loop and looked for the angle of the null. He stopped when he found it. “Well I’ll be damned. There was a reason that noise has been playing constantly. Someone’s trying to provide a bearing.”
“I think we just found our way to the Island.”
Chapter Seventy-Five
Tom continued to fly the old de-Havilland Tiger Moth on the bearing for Gloomy Sunday, hoping that it wasn’t a sign for the likelihood of their success. It took them past the ice sheet of East Antarctica and into the Dumont d'Urville Sea. Twenty miles out Tom started to get worried, the biplane was simple and had a good reputation, but it was old and the further it went from land the more worried he became.
When he was close to turning around Tom stopped turning the signal loop. He no longer needed to. All directions moved him further from the source. The Island was below them.
He turned his head to face Sam. “I think we just found the Island.”
“Well done. Can you see anything?”
Tom banked to the left, making a slow and wide circle around the source of the signal. “No, not a thing.”
“Really? Because I can see the Island the USS Texas is hunting.”
Tom examined the water below. He put his polarized sunglasses on and saw it straight away. In a world filled with dark blue water, an area of roughly five square miles appeared unnaturally green. There was either some extremely shallow water below or they had indeed found the Island.
He grinned. “We’ll I’ll be damned. What do you want to do now?”
“Take us back to the Maria Helena.”
Tom straightened the biplane and leveled it for a direct heading towards the Maria Helena. When they reached it he flew low and circled the ship until Matthew came out on to the front deck with Sam’s sniper rifle.
“Shit!” Tom swore, lifting the nose of the Tiger Moth. “What the hell was he going to do, shoot us down?”
“It’s all right, Matthew’s a terrible shot. He was probably just trying to scare us while he got a better view. You’ll be happy to know he’s recognized your ugly mug and is signaling to come around and land.”
“You’re certain?”
“I’d bet my life on it,” Sam replied.
“In that case, that’s exactly what we’re doing.”
Tom took the Tiger Moth down in a glided descent. He pulled back lightly on the stick and flared just above the ice flats and landed simultaneously on all three wheels. A perfect landing for a tail dragger, which has the main undercarriage as two front wheels and a very small wheel aft to stop the tail dragging on the ground.
Matthew met them with the zodiac rubber tender and transferred them to the Maria Helena. Tom was the first one up the ladder and on to the deck of the Maria Helena. It felt like it had been beached because the water was so placid. Genevieve embraced him like she hadn’t seen him for a year, wrapping her arms and legs around him in a massive hug.
“Jesus, when I saw the yellow biplane I thought you were dead,” she whispered in his ear.
Tom smiled, wanting nothing more than to kiss her lips. “I’m made of tougher stuff than you give me credit for.” He moved to kiss her lips, but she turned her head and jumped down to give Sam a big hug.