The Covenant of Genesis

the cliff. ‘Matt!’ he said into the radio, seeing the tilt-rotor changing direction. ‘It didn’t quite work out like I’d hoped - how long’ll it take you to land and pick us up?’

‘About a minute,’ said Trulli. Too long, Chase realised - the gunner might have been hit, but the driver was probably a good shot in his own right, and if he damaged the tilt-rotor they would be doomed.

‘You’ll have to pick us up on the move,’ he decided. ‘Lower a line from the winch. We’ll grab it and you can pull us up.’

‘You think that’s a good idea?’

‘No, but it’s the only one I’ve got!’

Ahead, the Bell descended, engines now in hover configuration, and Chase made out a black cable descending from one side. He looked back. A red slash rose above the edge of the cliff, the paracraft following it a moment later - and dropping amidst a huge cloud of blown spray, the parachute flapping away behind it. But the black vehicle didn’t hit the ground, instead gliding along less than a foot above it, the stubby wings trapping air beneath them and providing just enough lift to support it in wing-in-ground effect mode.

And without the drag of the fabric ’chute, the paracraft could go much faster.

‘We haven’t got time.’ The Covenant craft was rapidly gaining, and he had no idea how to make his own paracraft lift off and do the same. ‘Matt! We’ll come to you - just fly in a straight line and I’ll aim for the cable!’

The BA609 dropped to around a hundred feet and slowed, the cable skittering over the ground. Chase turned the paracraft towards it, checking the other controls for anything that might help. A black button turned out to be the release for the backup parachute, but that was no use to him now, as it would just act like a giant airbrake and slow them even more.

All or nothing. He lined the paracraft’s battered nose up with the tilt-rotor, seeing Trulli looking out of the door. ‘How close are they?’ he asked Sophia.

‘A hundred and fifty metres, less - they’re catching up very fast.’

‘Get into the front,’ he told her. ‘When I say, grab the line. Soon as you’ve got it, I’ll tell them to climb - they’ll pull you with them.’

‘What about you?’

‘Still working on that part!’

Sophia climbed back into the front seat. They were gaining rapidly on the tilt-rotor, which tipped forward to match their speed. The end of the cable was a hook, part of the winch system they had used to recover Trulli’s submersible. It bounced along the ice, kicking up chips with each impact. ‘Go up,’ Chase told Trulli. ‘About two feet.’

The Bell ascended slightly, the heavy hook rising with it until it was wavering in the wind just above the ground. Chase adjusted course to follow it, the freezing spray kicked up by the tilt-rotor slashing at his face. ‘Where are they?’

‘Fifty metres.’

The cable danced just ahead of the paracraft. ‘Get ready to grab it!’

The engine noise of the second paracraft changed sharply. A moment later there was an oddly muffled bang from behind. ‘What happened?’ Chase demanded, unable to risk looking away from the cable.

‘They just landed.’ The Covenant craft had dropped back on to the ice, the air cushion absorbing most of the impact. The gunner, face filled with pain, had nevertheless managed to prop his SIG on the windscreen, swinging it towards his target. ‘Eddie, he’s going to shoot at the plane!’

Chase said nothing, grimly urging the paracraft forward . . .

The hook clunked against fibreglass. Sophia grabbed the line and pulled it to her, shoving a foot into the hook.

A burst of gunfire. Two shots missed, the third clanging off the tilt-rotor’s fuselage. The gunner adjusted his aim—

‘Climb!’ Chase roared.

Larsson responded immediately, the Bell’s engines whining as he increased power. The cable snapped taut and whisked Sophia out of the paracraft.

The gunner’s finger tightened on the trigger—

Chase hit the black button and leapt from his seat, kicking down the steering column and clamping one outstretched hand round Sophia’s ankle as she soared away.

The paracraft’s reserve ’chute burst from the back of the hull. The backblast from the fan immediately snapped it open and it shot into the air, pulling the empty paracraft with it.

Chase’s last kick to the controls had moved the wing flaps to their limit, pitching the paracraft into a steep climb - too steep. It backflipped into a stall, falling back to earth . . .

On to the other paracraft.

Fibreglass shattered, shards tearing flesh, then the fuel tanks of both craft ruptured and exploded, scattering ragged hunks of burning debris across the pristine ice.

Chase felt the heat of the explosion. He looked up, seeing Sophia clinging to the line, the underside of the tilt-rotor spinning above her. He tried to bring up his other hand to the hook, but in the gale from the rotors couldn’t quite reach. His other hand was slipping, inexorably losing its grip on Sophia’s boot. He looked pleadingly up at her . . .

She looked back, but her expression was one of annoyance. She pointed at the ground. Chase lowered his gaze - and saw he was hanging only a foot above the ice, Larsson having slowed and descended. Sheepishly, he let go of her foot and dropped. Sophia jumped down beside him. The tilt-rotor moved off, Trulli giving them a thumbs-up as it turned to land nearby.

‘All right,’ said Sophia, ‘can we go now?’

‘Yeah,’ Chase replied. ‘We need to get back to Australia . . . and then on to Africa.’

‘We’ve found the paracraft,’ said one of the remaining Covenant members over Vogler’s radio. ‘Both destroyed.’

‘What about Chase and Blackwood?’ Vogler asked.

‘No sign. But there are marks from landing gear nearby. They must have got away.’

Vogler’s normally impassive face revealed frustration. ‘Understood. Get back here. Out.’

‘Wow,’ Nina said. ‘Not your day, huh? That’s, what, eleven guys and two hovercraft?’

‘Luckily for you, Dr Wilde, we still have enough seats in the other paracraft for you. Otherwise this,’ he indicated the library around them, ‘would be your permanent residence. For as long as it remains, at least.’

She regarded him sourly. ‘You’re still going to destroy it?’

‘When we have what we need, yes.’ He glanced across the huge room. An impromptu production line had been set up, two of the Covenant troopers bringing over stacks of clay tablets that Ribbsley had decreed of interest, so that a third could take high-resolution photographs of them.

‘We shouldn’t take her at all,’ growled Zamal from nearby. ‘We should kill her right now.’

‘Not this again,’ Vogler sighed. ‘You know procedure.’

‘Procedure doesn’t count now Hammerstein is dead. And he would have voted to kill her as well.’

‘You don’t know that,’ he said. Nina was certain Zamal was correct, but decided it best to keep it to herself. ‘And I will not allow anyone to take action against her until the Triumvirate has reached a majority verdict.’

Zamal laughed sarcastically. ‘Which will be hard, since there are only the two of us left. Or were you thinking of granting a field promotion?’ He looked across at the three men working with the tablets - all Arabs. ‘One of my men, perhaps? I have three to your one. The odds are in my favour.’

Vogler shook his head. ‘I was thinking of someone we both trust, whose opinion we respect.’

Another harsh laugh. ‘Not Ribbsley, surely? Or Callum?’

‘The Cardinal.’

Zamal looked surprised. ‘The Cardinal? He is no longer a member of the Covenant.’

‘Nobody leaves the Covenant, Zamal. Not really. And I know you value his opinion. And trust him.’

‘I do,’ Zamal said with reluctance. ‘But since he was your mentor, I don’t think his decision will be unbiased.’