As they ran, the earth shook suddenly. Cohen stumbled from the tremor. She looked behind her. A large fireball erupted from a hundred yards on the other side of the plane. A plume of fire and black smoke rose into the air. They both stopped and stared back at the sight.
“Well,” said Inherp, the wind blowing the smoke across the airfield, the place beginning to look like a war zone. “I guess your friends are here.”
63
Jordan stood by the storage building, shielding his eyes from the flames. What was left of the fuel truck lay scattered across the tarmac, tendrils of fire reaching outward in several directions, threatening buildings, other vehicles, and the airplane. Close, but not close enough. It had been a wild idea. He had coordinated with Savas and Miller once they arrived, communicating over cell phones. They knew that they were hopelessly outnumbered, but their main goal had been to disable as many troops as possible, create a distraction, and damage the plane. Well, at least I got the first two done. Indeed, troops were running around in total confusion, and many had been killed instantly by the explosion as Jordan had announced his presence and drawn nearly a dozen in pursuit of him past the fuel truck. But the plane was the most important target, and it was out of the blast radius, still guarded by at least ten well-armed soldiers who were now on high alert.
When they had arrived, New York had reached them on their phones. Wonderful invention, the modern cell phone, he thought. A brave new world that rendered half the old tactics in action and espionage obsolete. They had learned that Inherp had contacted the army about the missile, the location, and the plans to load it on a plane and use it very soon. Perhaps the FBI and the CIA were angry about their going AWOL and trying to run the thing solo, but right now they were the only assets the government had in the area. They were scrambling fighters from nearby bases, but by the time they got airborne and made it to the site, the plane could be gone. Jordan had seen enough of it to know that it would be lost soon if not followed by eye. The plane had been converted into a stealth craft. How Gunn had recruited the expertise, found the materials, and pulled it off, he had no idea. But the man was resourceful, with deep pockets, and obsessed, and it looked like he had forged his own private invisible bomber. This thing would fly low and be invisible to radar. It would not exist in the air. They couldn't let it get off the ground.
He reloaded his weapon and opened his cell phone. He had to get Savas and Frank Miller on the line. Time was running out.
“What the hell is going on?” William Gunn stepped out of the hangar as his lieutenant raced over. Fire rose into the sky from the explosion, and the noise of automatic weapons could be heard echoing across the airfield. His second-in-command bolted up beside him carrying a machine gun.
“Mr. Gunn, the worst we could have expected. We are under attack, and the plane narrowly missed being destroyed by the explosion. It looks like it was a fuel truck. There are attacks on soldiers, but haphazard, so I conclude it is a very small force, but they are determined to blow up the plane. They know, William.”
“How can they know? This is crazy!”
“The main airport has evacuated. The pilots have been denied permission to fly. That can only mean one thing — a strategic strike is coming, airborne, no doubt. Somehow the mission has been compromised, sir. We may have only minutes.”
Gunn thought quickly. He had to salvage their most important strike.
“Then we get the plane in the air now! Fuck air traffic control. If they've shut the airport down, the skies will be empty. They can't track the plane once it's in the air. Tell them to go, now!”
“Yes, sir! But we have to get you out of here. I've already called the helicopter. It's en route. I'll give the pilots the go, tell them to forget pre-check, and get the hell out of here. Then we run to the chopper landing pad.”
“Tell the pilots to go, but I also want you to get over to the plane and make sure that no one in that firefight is able to damage it. Work with the soldiers, pin down whoever the hell is doing this!”
“Yes, sir, but you will not be protected!”
“I'll take the car the long way around to the helipad. I'll be fine. That missile is what matters now. We can't jeopardize this mission! Go! You'll meet me at the chopper as soon as the plane is in the air!”
“On my way!” The soldier sprinted toward the billowing smoke and the sound of gunfire. Gunn turned and walked quickly toward a row of cars near the building, his jaw clenched.
They were too close to fail now!
Savas placed the cell phone in his pocket. He felt like he was going mad in the middle of this chaos, coordinating multiple phone calls with the FBI and this Mjolnir soldier turned ally. The fire was spreading and igniting flammables in the hangar near the fuel truck. This could get completely out of control. The heat was searing, and his eyes were watering from the smoke. He leaned against the metal siding of one of the storage buildings near the fence and yelled over to Miller.
“This Inherp — he has Rebecca, Frank. As far as I can tell, we're on the wrong side of this inferno, and he's two buildings down waiting for us. We just need to get across and past the soldiers guarding the aircraft before they fill us with bullets.”
Miller nodded. “The good news is that we have a lot of smoke for cover. Have you reached Husaam?”
“No!” shouted Savas. “He's not picking up. I don't know if he can't hear in this chaos or if he is engaged. He said he would bring that plane down. It looks like the explosion failed. Once we find her, we need to regroup and form a plan to stop them from getting that missile in the air. Let's move and try again when we find Rebecca.”
Miller stood up, then crouched and kept his body low. “Through the worst of the smoke, John. We're probably going to asphyxiate, but it will be nearly impossible to see us in all this.”
They both sprinted forward into the smoke and fire, weapons raised and at the ready. Plunging into the black cloud, Savas held his breath as long as he could. Soon he had to inhale, and he nearly choked, his eyes watering, the fumes burning his lungs. I'm coming, Rebecca! If he could only make it that far.
64
The engines on the aircraft changed pitch and throttled up significantly. Jordan looked over toward the machine, watching men scramble on and off and around the thing, confused, uncertain what to do. No. They're going to get it out while they can! No! He couldn't allow it to leave, but he saw no way to stop it. In an instant he made a decision and sprinted with his automatic toward the aircraft.
Two men were removing the wheel-stops from underneath the plane. Most of the soldiers were heading away from the aircraft. He was fortunate. They had assumed that they would leave their vulnerable position as the plane left and engage in the firefight erupting around them. John and Frank. Jordan knew they would need help, but he also knew that far more people might depend on him not helping them at this moment, and getting to that plane. Two of the soldiers slowed, noticing his sprint to the aircraft, which had slowly begun its taxi. The loading ramp had not even been drawn up, although it had started to rise. He was perhaps twenty yards from the plane now. He could reach it before takeoff.