The whine of the rapidly spinning winch reel became hollow as the last length of cable unspooled then it slammed to a stop.
The TEL lunged forward again. The sudden burst of speed pounded Eddie against the windscreen. The wind tore at his clothes as the aircraft neared take-off speed.
The transporter started to snake again. Its tyres screamed as they skidded across the concrete. Nina tried desperately to bring it back under control, but the truck was almost at the point of no return, about to overturn…
The Antonov’s long tailcone dipped towards the runway as its nose rose and it left the ground.
The missile transporter followed it into the sky.
‘Oh God!’ Nina screamed, terror and nausea filling her as the TEL keeled over on to its side. ‘Eddie!’
Her husband was pinned against the windshield, the force of the roaring slipstream holding him in place as he clung to the roof with one hand and groped for the bull bars with the other. His palm slapped on glass, flat metal — then clamped around the steel tube. Gasping for breath, he hung spread-eagled against the cab as the runway dropped away.
A squeal of overstressed machinery, audible even over the deafening thunder of the jet’s engines — and the unsecured erector arms swung out from the vehicle’s back as it rolled over. The wind caught them, yanking them backwards. Hydraulic rams tore apart, bolts shearing and welds cracking—
The arms slammed into their vertical position with such force that the transporter’s long chassis snapped in half. The entire launch assembly tore free, taking most of the vehicle’s bodywork and the rear eight wheels with it. Tons of metal plunged back down on to the runway, hitting hard enough to smash a crater into the concrete.
The TEL’s forward half was still attached to the plane, corkscrewing along in its wake for two full revolutions before levelling out. Nina fell back into the driver’s seat, seeing her husband flattened against the window before her. ‘Eddie, get in!’ she yelled, trying to open the door. The wind instantly slammed it shut again.
Eddie managed to turn his head. He squinted into the gale to see the Antonov banking sharply to starboard, hauling the remains of the transporter after it like a banner.
Alarms buzzed in the cockpit, warning lights flashing. ‘What is happening?’ Kang demanded, trying to cover his fear as the huge aircraft wallowed to one side. He clutched at the back of the pilot’s chair to stay upright, Sek and his subordinate backing down the aisle between the other crew stations to find support.
Captain Petrov had higher priorities than answering the Korean, taking several seconds to check readouts and adjust the controls before replying. ‘The landing gear is damaged,’ he announced, ‘and the whole plane is off balance! There’s too much extra weight on one side.’ He spoke to the co-pilot in Russian, the other man looking back out of his side window. A shocked cry told the others in the cockpit that he had seen something unexpected.
‘Well?’ snapped Kang after the co-pilot had gabbled a report.
Petrov gave him a disbelieving look. ‘We are… pulling it behind us.’
‘Pulling what?’
‘The truck, the truck that was chasing us! They must have got a cable around the landing gear.’
‘Then close it, cut the cable!’
‘The landing gear is damaged,’ the Russian repeated with impatient contempt. ‘It won’t close. We have to turn back and land again — it is too dangerous to fly like this.’
‘No!’ said Kang. ‘We do not go back, we must—’
‘Are you a pilot? Can you fly a plane? No? Then shut up and let me fly this one!’ The pilot turned back angrily to the controls, leaving the colonel fuming impotently.
A voice came through the crew’s headsets: the control tower at the airbase. Even without being able to hear the exchange, Kang could tell from its urgency that the situation was about to get worse. Both men in the front seats peered down at the ground, regarding the runway with growing concern as the Antonov made a wide circle over the airfield. ‘We… we can’t land,’ Petrov told the Korean. ‘The runway is blocked, there is wreckage on it. But we can’t reach another airfield if we are pulling the truck; it will make the plane too hard to fly.’
‘Then we stop pulling it,’ Kang snapped. He glanced at a monitor screen at one of the crew stations, which showed CCTV images of the huge hold below them. The lone missile rocked uneasily in its cradle, only a few of the straps meant to secure it actually in place. But it was the other items of cargo that caught his interest. ‘Can the plane fly with the rear ramp down?’
‘Yes, it was designed so paratroopers could jump from it. But—’
‘Then open it. Now!’ He reverted to his native language as he addressed Sek. ‘The weapons you were assigned — they’re all in the hold, yes?’
‘Yes, sir,’ Sek replied.
‘Good. Then we’ll break out a rocket launcher — and blow up the transporter!’
Nina braced herself in the footwell, holding on to the now-useless steering wheel and one of the door handles as the transporter swayed through the sky behind the Antonov. The freighter still had its landing gear extended as it circled the military base. Was it going to land again? If the plane returned to the ground, she and Eddie would be killed. There was no way the broken-backed TEL would touch down neatly on its remaining wheels…
Movement on the plane — the clamshell doors cracking apart. Light flooded through the widening gap, spotlights inside illuminating the bare ribbed framework of the fuselage and the giant loading ramp blocking the rear of the hold. What were they doing?
She shouted to Eddie, pointing to alert him of the new development. He twisted painfully to look. ‘Shit!’ he shouted, the glass muffling his voice. ‘The winch — wind it in!’
‘Why?’
‘The only reason they’d open the back door in flight is to jump out from it — or shoot at us!’
She hurriedly shifted position to push the larger lever forward. She was almost surprised when the winch started, convinced that the punishment it had endured would have destroyed the mechanism. But it began to take up the steel cable again, albeit with a protesting whine.
Eddie looked back at the Antonov. The clamshell doors opened fully. A moment later, the ramp laboriously began to lower. He knew what — or rather who — would be waiting behind it. ‘Get a gun!’ he called to Nina. ‘Soon as that ramp comes down, they’ll start shooting — you need to get ’em first!’
‘I can’t open the door!’ she protested as she retrieved a rifle from the footwell, where it had ended up during the truck’s wild ride.
‘Then shoot out the window!’
Nina reluctantly pointed the Type 58 at the driver’s door, turning the fire selector to what she hoped was single-shot mode. ‘I’d normally say this is a terrible idea,’ she muttered, ‘but compared to every other one we’ve had today, it barely moves the needle…’
She cringed — and pulled the trigger.
The noise of the gunshot was excruciating in the cab’s confines — but it was nothing against the sudden roar from outside. The bullet itself had only made a coin-sized hole in the glass, but a fraction of a second later the entire pane disintegrated, to be sucked out into the void. The cabin turned into a whirlwind as loose items were snatched up by the vortex.
Eddie stared at her with a what the hell? expression. ‘I meant shoot out of the window — after you wind it down!’
‘No, you said— Oh Goddamn it!’ Nina shielded her eyes as grit and papers and even the spent bullet cartridge swatted at her face, then squinted past her husband. The Antonov was drawing closer, running lights illuminating its operator’s logo on the towering tailfin. Beneath it were the gaping rear doors, the ramp slowly unfolding to reveal the hold beyond.