The Rising Sea (NUMA Files 15)

“MY ROBOTS will finish you,” Gao muttered. Joe held him down, but that didn’t stop him from talking. “You can hear them coming. Stay here and they’ll destroy you. Run and they’ll hunt you without mercy.”

Kurt grabbed the identifier that hung around Gao’s neck and yanked it free, snapping the lanyard. “I’d be more concerned with what happens when they find you, Mr. Gao.”

“What is that?” Nagano asked.

“A transmitter that tells the robots who to shoot and who to ignore,” Kurt said. “I saw one of these in Han’s factory. Turns out that visit was highly educational.”

Gao squirmed and strained against the hold Joe had put him in. “That’ll only protect one of you.”

“More importantly, it won’t protect you,” Kurt said. He turned to Joe. “Let him up.”

Joe released Gao, who stood and made a desperate grab for the electronic device in Kurt’s hand.

Kurt pulled back out of reach and held the point of the sword forward. It kept Gao at bay. “There’s a stairway in the north corner of the building. If you run, you might make it. You might even bypass your own machines and get back to your underground lair. But I wouldn’t wait around if I was you. Like you said, they’re coming.”

Gao looked at Kurt with hatred, but not for very long. He took off running, heading for the north corner of the building.

“Nice of you to give him a sporting chance,” Joe said.

“He has no chance,” Kurt replied. “And we could use a little distraction. Let’s get the wing to the front edge of the building. We’re going to have to drop in pretty hard to get enough speed.”

Working together, they shoved the wing across the rooftop and set in on the wall at the front of the building. They helped Nagano up onto the wing. He dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms through the nylon straps used to carry the wing.

Kurt and Joe took their positions and raised the chute until it caught the wind and rose up behind them.

The sound of gunfire rang out several floors below. One staccato burst, followed by a shout. Two more bursts echoed and then silence.

“So much for our distraction,” Kurt said. “Let’s get out of here.”

“We have to shimmy this thing forward,” Joe said. “Like a snowboarder starting his run.”

Kurt hung the identifier on Joe. “You’re the pilot. If the robots see us, it’s best you don’t get shot.”

With the chute billowing in the breeze, they shifted their weight forward and the wing slid off the edge. They accelerated down and away from the building, dropping and picking up speed like an eagle diving from a cliffside nest.

The wing and parasail generated instant lift while the weight of the three men provided momentum, which translated into forward speed.

They soared down the front side of the island across the open area, where the helicopter had touched down. Flying low and fast, they raced across the boundary of the seawall and out over the waves.

If a single gunshot came their way, none of them heard it.

Flying clear, they turned their speed back into altitude, but like any glider not caught in an updraft, that was eventually a losing proposition. Gaining altitude cost them speed and the next drop took them lower.

“We’re sinking fast,” Kurt noted.

“Not much we can do about that,” Joe said.

“Let’s hope Akiko sees us.”

Riding with the wind, they were carried across the channel at a rapid clip. But soon they were skimming the waves and pulling back on the chute to gain a few seconds of extra airtime.

“Prepare to ditch,” Joe said.

The wing skimmed one swell and then clipped the next, stopping instantaneously. Kurt, Joe and Nagano were thrown forward into the swells. Kurt went under, tasted the saltwater on his lips and came up in time to see the chute settling into the waves.

Joe popped up from under the chute, clearing the lines and swimming away. Nagano was treading water next to him.

Since the hollow wing floated, the three of them grasped its edges.