‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ she snapped. ‘I should have been learning how to drive a truck rather than raising a child!’
He smiled. ‘Love you too.’ Steadying himself, he collected the coils of cable and looked up at the Antonov. ‘Wow, the last time I chased a massive jet along a runway, I was in a Ferrari…’
The TEL came in behind the An-124’s starboard wing. Even with the giant freighter only at taxi speed, the jet blast from the two huge engines was fearsome. Searing air, reeking of fuel, scoured Eddie’s exposed skin. He waved for Nina to position the truck in line with the fuselage. She did so, the Antonov’s stern sliding into view ahead. The rear ramp was almost fully raised, folding to act as a bulkhead at the back of the hold. The two huge clamshell doors forming the tailcone’s underside started to close. The aircraft was almost ready for take-off.
The wing loomed above as Nina brought the transporter closer to the row of wheels. Eddie briefly considered using a rifle to strafe and puncture the fuel tanks, but dismissed the idea. Jet fuel was hard to ignite; even a red-hot bullet was unlikely to start a fire, never mind cause an explosion, and the pilots would know within seconds that they had a fuel leak and stop the plane.
If that happened, the warheads would leave North Korea by some other means — and by then he and Nina would be dead. Downing the Antonov was the only way to make their sacrifice count. ‘Okay,’ he said as he held on to the spotlight and hefted his metallic lasso, ‘let’s rope us some Russian dogies…’
Kang stood in the cockpit with Sek and one of his men, watching over the pilots’ shoulders as the runway’s lights drew closer. Faced with the threat of having their aircraft impounded and themselves ending up in a North Korean prison — or simply being shot — the Russian aircrew had unwillingly set the Antonov in motion before finishing their pre-flight checks, hurriedly running through as many of the items on their list as possible as the plane trundled towards take-off position.
The colonel’s radio crackled. ‘Yes?’ he said. ‘Have you killed the spies?’
‘Uh… no, sir,’ said the worried soldier down the channel. ‘We haven’t caught up with the missile transporter yet.’
‘Why not?’
‘It’s chasing you!’
Kang and Sek looked at each other in alarm. ‘Which side?’
‘The right, sir.’
Ignoring the co-pilot’s protests, Kang shoved him aside to lean over and peer back through a side window. ‘I can’t see them,’ he said, straightening.
‘They might try to crash into us,’ said Sek, worried.
Kang addressed the pilot, a man named Petrov, in English. ‘We are being chased by a truck! It might ram the plane, or block the runway. We have to go faster and take off.’
The Russian spoke better English than his comrades, the language being a requirement for international pilots. ‘No, if they could damage the plane, we have to stop! It is too dangerous to—’
‘Take off!’ roared Kang, drawing his gun for emphasis. The other cockpit crew behind him reacted with shock. ‘Go faster! Now!’
Petrov tried to cover his fear and maintain a professional calm, but the weapon pointed at his head — and the rage-crazed expression of the man holding it — made it clear who was now in command of the aircraft. He pushed the throttle levers forward. The engine note rose, the Antonov gaining speed. Kang gave him a contemptuous glare, then withdrew. ‘This is what we get for taking a contract from fucking North Korea,’ the pilot muttered in his own language to the co-pilot, who swallowed and nodded in agreement.
The TEL’s cab drew level with the middle set of undercarriage wheels. Eddie had hoped to reach the front to increase his chances of catching one with his lasso but the rising shriek of the engines meant that he had run out of time. ‘They’re speeding up! Go faster!’ he shouted to Nina.
She pushed down the accelerator, but the third set of the Antonov’s wheels slipped past, then the fourth. ‘It’s too slow!’ she cried.
‘Shit!’ The final landing leg rumbled past Eddie. Last chance. He pulled the steel loop wide and tossed it at the huge tyre—
One side fell behind the fat wheel, snagging against the hub as the other was caught by the whirling tread and snatched underneath. The hook slammed into the hydraulics with a bang as the loop snapped tight around the axle.
‘Let out the winch!’ Eddie yelled, twisting to point at a dash-mounted control box in front of one of the passenger seats; the winch could be operated from both inside the cab and out. ‘If there’s enough slack, we can slow down and jump off before the plane drags us!’
Nina looked at the box. There were two levers and several switches on it, but all the text was in Korean. She leaned across the cab, straining to reach it. The larger of the two levers was marked with arrows pointing up and down, which she guessed controlled the spool. She stretched out her hand and pushed it forward, to the up position. An electric whine came from outside.
‘No, the other one!’ Eddie called urgently. ‘The winch brake, you need to let it run free—’
Tyres screeched — and a wall of metal filled the windscreen.
The Antonov had turned on to the runway, the massive aircraft rocking on its undercarriage as it changed direction too quickly. Nina gasped and spun the wheel to avoid a collision — and save Eddie from being crushed against the fuselage.
The smell of burning rubber joined the stink of jet fuel. Its port wingtip drooping alarmingly close to the ground, the An-124 continued through its ninety-degree turn, finally coming into line with the runway lights and reeling back upright. Nina struggled to regain control of the transporter as it veered behind the inboard engine. Searing jet exhaust pummelled Eddie. ‘Get behind it, behind it!’ he shouted, hunching up to protect his face.
She swung the TEL back to the left. The Antonov had now pulled far enough ahead for the vehicle to get beneath its tail. She straightened out, then made another lunge for the winch control—
The four massive engines roared to full thrust.
A superheated hurricane whirled around the transporter. The colossal aircraft accelerated with alarming speed, racing away down the runway — with the cable lashing behind it.
It snapped taut. Eddie lost his footing and swung from the spotlight as the TEL leapt forward. Nina was thrown back in her seat. She stamped at the brake pedal, but to no avail.
The Antonov thundered towards take-off speed, dragging the transporter behind it.
46
The speedometer needle whipped around the dial as far as it would go, and stayed there. Nina gripped the squirming wheel fearfully, trying to hold the truck in a straight line as it snaked down the runway in the Antonov’s wake—
The winch! If she let it run freely, it would give the TEL a chance to slow down and let her and Eddie bail out.
Holding the wheel with one hand, she leaned across and clawed at the control box. The winch was still spooling out its cable, the motor shrilling under the strain. Her fingers closed around the second lever, and pushed it.
The winch brake released with a loud clunk. The effect was immediate, the transporter lurching as the acceleration suddenly ceased. Eddie swung back around to the front of the cab, clawing at the roof to find a more secure hold. ‘Jump out!’ he cried.
‘We’re going too fast!’ The speedometer was still pinned to the top of the dial. She tried the brakes again, but the transporter started to weave, threatening to flip over. All she could do was hold it steady until it slowed enough to risk a leap on to the runway—