In less than three seconds, it was gone.
To where, Zahra had no idea.
Oh my God, she thought. The launch hadn’t been a “launch” in the classic sense. Did it teleport? Can the bombers do that, too? Another possibility was that it slipped into another dimension. Is that how it got here?
“Zahra!” She looked up and saw Yana and Hammet waving at her. Yana cupped her hands around her mouth. “We’re going to pull you up!”
Zahra nodded and gave them a thumbs-up. She was thrilled to see them alive and even more thrilled to soon be out of the hole. The surrounding cavern continued to shake feverishly. More of the hangar could collapse at any moment.
Zahra was slowly hoisted skyward. The only sound she heard besides the earth cracking was the grinding of her hook’s cord on stone. She wasn’t worried about the cord breaking, though. It could take it.
She gripped it harder, as if hugging it. Thanks… again.
Chapter 65
Zahra
Yana and Hammet grabbed both of Zahra’s wrists and dragged her back onto what passed for solid ground. But nothing was solid about the hangar floor, at least, nothing on the northern half.
They let go. Hammet immediately began reeling in the rest of the grappling hook’s cord while Yana checked on Zahra.
“You okay?”
Zahra nodded but didn’t verbally answer her question. “Did you see it?”
“See what?” Yana asked, glancing up at Hammet. He shrugged.
A tremor changed the subject of their powwow. “Never mind. I’ll tell you later… as long as we don’t die.”
Zahra stood. “Where’s Kyle?”
“You mean Henri?” Hammet asked.
“Yeah, him.”
Yana thumbed over her shoulder. “Took off when you went in. I guess he didn’t think he needed to help save your life again.”
Zahra patted Yana’s shoulder. “That’s why I have you guys. Did you try and stop him?”
“No,” Yana replied, “we were a little preoccupied holding that.” She pointed at the clawed end of Zahra’s grappling hook. The hook hadn’t caught anything. Her friends had caught it.
“He took the elevator, too,” Hammet said.
“And?” Zahra asked, unsure what he was implying. There were other elevators.
He handed Zahra her hook. “It had the only key.”
Shit. He was right. They had locked the elevator down here but hadn’t thought to take the key with them. God forbid they had lost it somewhere down here.
We’d be in the same situation we are now.
There wasn’t any reason to check the other two elevators, either. Henri and his team had rappelled their way into the hangar. If the other elevators had been useful, they would have used one of them instead.
She clipped the wound-up cord to her belt and checked her hands for blisters, but her toughened skin had held up just fine. She didn’t exactly have the most stellar, feminine hands. She had the hands of an adventurer.
“How do we escape?” Hammet asked.
Zahra’s hands found her knees, and she took a few breaths. When she looked up at Hammet to reply, something behind him, to the east, caught her attention.
She leaned right. “What about that?”
Yana and Hammet turned and found what she was looking at.
“The… bomber?” Hammet asked.
Yana shrugged. “It’s worth a shot… I guess.”
Zahra eyed the central control platform. “Which means we have to get the lift moving.”
Hammet stepped toward it. “I’ll—”
“Help Yana with the plane,” Zahra finished.
“You sure?” he asked.
“Does it matter?” Zahra backpedaled south. “You two go. I’ll meet you there.”
She turned and ran as the bottom half of the northern wall caved in on itself, crushing the torch-cut hatch, as well as the elevator platform down to where the Reliquary had been. A crack shot up the remaining half of the wall and spread along the ceiling.
“Zahra!” Hammet shouted.
She waved him off and kept running. “Help Yana!”
Chapter 66
Hammet
Hammet and Yana reluctantly parted ways with Zahra. They didn’t want to split up again. The trio had survived countless dangers so far and were nearly at the end. Now, all they had to do was make it outside.
Hammet looked up and pictured the millions of pounds of rock and steel above his head. Easier said than done.
They hopped up onto the raised platform, holding one of the three completed Ghost bombers. If he had his directions correct, then they would come up through the eastern armaments wing of the Underworld.
The aircraft were even more amazing-looking up close. Hammet wouldn’t mind seeing one in action someday, as long it wasn’t under Sixth Seal control.
He stopped. Maybe I am about to see one in action.
But in this case, he’d settle for just an operational engine — four of them, actually.
The Boeing B-29 Superfortress was a four-engine, propeller-driven aircraft. While a plane of this design could stay airborne for a time without all its engines working properly, Hammet doubted it’d be able to take off without them all.
Hammet had also realized they’d be in quite the predicament once they reached the uppermost levels of the Underworld: They had entered on foot. Outrunning the collapsing inner bowels of a mountain was unlikely.
At least we’ll be able to drive out of here… in a plane.
He and Yana ducked under the open front nose of the bomber, quickly scaled the ladder, and climbed inside. They entered the cockpit via a wheeled submarine hatch.
“The plane pressurizes?” he asked.
“Yes,” Yana replied. “The first ever for the American military. Everything inside is pressurized except for the belly’s bomb bay.”
They moved forward. Yana sat in what Hammet figured was the pilot chair. He sat across the narrow walk space between seats in what must have been the copilot’s chair.
He pointed to the lone station in front of them. It sat lower than theirs and was positioned forward into the nose of the plane. “What’s that?”
“Best seat in the house. That’s the bombardier’s seat.”
Hammet looked at the oddly placed chair with new eyes. “So, whoever sat there is the person who dropped the bombs during the war.”
“The same,” she replied, hunting and pecking particular buttons and flicking seemingly random switches. “He could take over the controls of the entire aircraft at will and get them into position for their next run.” She looked at him. “This entire plane exists for one singular purpose.” She pointed down at the chair. “To allow him to succeed.”
Wow.
“You really like these things, don’t you?” he asked.
She snorted. “Who doesn’t? The B-29 is what the kids would call ‘OG.’” She patted the top of her instrument panel. “This is as authentic as it gets.” She raised her hand to a foursome of switches. “Here we go…”
She flicked them one by one.
The first engine fired up with little trouble.
“Yes!” Yana yelled, pumping her fist.
The second engine coughed a cloud of black smoke but also came to life. Hammet wondered if jet fuel could even hold this long — perhaps the cold climate helped it. Or perhaps those working here had perfected some other alien-based fuel.
Either way, they were all about to find out.