The Storm (NUMA Files 10)

“Look out! He’s right above you!” Zarrina shouted over the radio.

A wave of thunder and turbulence shook the aircraft. A shadow raced across the windshield, and the captain shoved the stick forward. Smoke, heat and exhaust from Kurt’s engines blasted the cockpit, but the planes did not collide.

Kurt’s pulling up at the last second gave them a few feet of precious space. On the other hand, the pilot’s involuntary flinch and the wake turbulence from the thirty-five-thousand-pound jet roaring past sent them down and to the left, headed for the waves.

“Pull out!” Jinn shouted. “Pull out!”

The pilot rolled the wings level and pulled back on the yoke. The jet skimmed the water, touched it briefly, skipping like a stone, and then climbed skyward once again.

“THEY PULLED OUT,” Leilani said, looking back through the side window. “Somehow, they pulled out.”

Kurt thought of heading around for another run, but he was already lined up on the second plane. Plan A had failed, and with the second aircraft climbing above a thousand feet and accelerating it would have no effect this time. Still, he had to do something.

Kurt used the extra speed he’d carried to outclimb his quarry, gaining altitude faster than the other jet. Once he was above it, he angled toward the other plane and matched its course, closing in from the seven o’clock high position.

For a second he had no clue what he’d do next. But an idea came to him that felt so brilliant, he would have patted himself on the back if he could have.

He looked around the cockpit. Amid the myriad gauges and switches and screens he spotted what he was looking for.

“Grab that handle,” he said, pointing.

Leilani put her hand on a thick metal bar lined with yellow-and-black warning chevrons.

“Get ready to pull it!”

As he closed in on his quarry, the plane began to shake. The slipstream coming off the other jet made him feel like a water-skier crossing a powerboat’s wake. He pulled back and climbed above the turbulence and, after ten seconds, he pushed the nose forward again, knifing toward the other jet as if on a strafing run.

He raced over the top of the jet, higher than he’d been before.

“Now!”

Leilani slammed the yellow-and-black down.

A great whooshing sound swept through the plane, and Kurt felt the nose pitch up and the plane all but leap skyward.

Out behind the aircraft a cloud of gray vapor had appeared, whipping backward, slamming into the second jet. Despite the vaporlike appearance, the central column of the dumped mixture was still together. Twelve thousand pounds of water and microbots hit the cockpit, shattering the windshield and crushing the pilots like a tidal wave.

The rest of the load swept over the aircraft, catching the starboard wing and engine. The turbofan exploded from the impact, compressor blades and other pieces flying outward through the cowling.

The weight of the water hammered the right wing more than the left, forcing it down and back, and the aircraft rolled over and dove seaward. It hit seconds later, cartwheeling across the ocean’s surface. The impact tore the jet apart, sending people, cargo and metal shards in all directions.

Kurt realized he’d just dumped a bunch of Jinn’s bots into the sea, but it was the only weapon he had at his disposal. He circled to the right, spotted the wreckage and immediately began looking for the surviving jet lest he and Leilani suffer a similar fate.

Suddenly, a voice came over the radio. Kurt recognized it as Gamay Trout’s.

GAMAY TROUT SAT at the radioman’s console in Aqua-Terra’s communications room. The cold end of a pistol was pressed against the back of her head.

“Speak to him!” Zarrina’s harsh voice demanded. “Tell him to surrender or I’ll kill you all. Your husband dies first.”

Paul had been forced to lie down on the floor. Matson stood with a foot on the small of Paul’s back. He pointed a Luger-style pistol toward the nape of his neck. Otero stood close by with another gun.

“Speak!”

Gamay grabbed the microphone they’d placed in front of her. She held the transmit switch. “Kurt, this is Gamay. Do you read me?”

It took a few seconds, but Kurt’s voice came through in her headphones.

“Gamay, you’re under attack. Take cover. Have Marchetti activate the robots.”