‘Why?’
‘We’ve never waited this long before, that’s why.’
Carrie said, ‘Be patient, will you?’
Sean said, ‘Some would say I’ve been too patient already.’ She thought of what to say, when the tower controller’s voice came over their headsets.
‘AirBox one-oh-seven, tower.’
‘One-oh-seven, go ahead,’ Sean replied.
‘Stand by.’
‘One-oh-seven.’
Carrie looked at Sean and he said, ‘Look over there. By the freight hangars. Lots of lights.’
She did just that. He was right. A number of red and blue flashing lights.
‘You’re right,’ she said.
‘You should learn to listen to me more often.’
Carrie waited and said, ‘Some people would say I already listen too much.’
‘Which people?’
Carrie said nothing, waited.
Then the tower came back on.
‘Airbox one-oh-seven.’
Adrianna Scott had scouted out this place months ago, and now she waited with anticipation, a pair of 7X50 binoculars in her hands. She was in a small park on a hillside, about a mile away from the airport. Among the picnic tables and swing sets, all empty, she waited. She looked around her, saw how empty the place was, and felt a wonderful sense of satisfaction. This place would never be used again by the people of this country and soon grass and saplings and trees would once more cover this cleared area.
She lifted up the binoculars, focused them on the runway. She could make out long lines of yellow and black AirBox jets, heading out for departure.
‘Soon, papa, soon, mama,’ she whispered.
Brian bent over, vomited, and then stood up, wiping spit from his chin. Before him was an access road, bordered by a chain-link fence that butted up against the runway. What the hell to do now? There was nothing before him except the fence. No phones, no guard shacks, nothing.
Damn!
He looked up and down the length of the fence. Noted the lampposts. Noted the power lines. And the cameras, of course, the—
Security cameras.
Only chance. The only real chance.
Brian took out the pistol he had lifted from the Memphis cop, started running the length of the fence, shooting the pistol into the air, raising as much hell as he could. If the airport security team was on the job, if these cameras were manned, they would see a crazy man with a gun at the end of this runway, apparently shooting at the soon-to-depart aircraft.
It was the only thing he could do.
Sean said, AirBox one-oh-seven, go ahead.’
‘Tower, AirBox one-oh-seven, cleared for takeoff, runway three six center’
‘AirBox one-oh-seven, cleared for takeoff runway three six center, we thank you.’
Carrie held onto the throttles tight, started pushing them forward. She felt the engine thrust push her back into the seat as the runway lights started accelerating past them. Sean started calling out the speed and then V-1, the speed at which take off was imminent: ‘Sixty. Seventy. Eighty. Vee-one, rotate.’
Carrie pulled the control yoke back. ‘Vee-two,’ Sean said as she felt the jet break free from the ground, Sean now indicating that they were at their climbing speed in case they lost an engine. They were airborne.
She said quickly, ‘Positive rate, gear up,’ and Sean moved a wheel-shaped lever with his left hand. There was a clunking sensation as the nose wheel came home.
‘Gear up,’ Sean said.
As the speed increased, Carrie called out, ‘Flaps five.’
The flaps moved to their position, and then she said, ‘Flaps up.’
‘Flaps up,’ Sean said. ‘We’ve got a clean aircraft.’
The tower controller’s voice came over the radio. ‘AirBox one-oh-seven, change to departure.’
Sean said, ‘AirBox one-oh-seven’ as he changed the radio’s frequency. Then a different voice announced itself: ‘AirBox one-oh-seven.’
‘Departure, AirBox one-oh-seven, passing feet for five thousand,’ Sean said.
‘AirBox one-oh-seven, climb to one zero thousand, heading zero two zero, proceed to CENTRALIA when able, and proceed via your flight plan.’
Carrie loved this, loved the feeling of going up into the air, everything under control, everything nominal, clear night sky and nothing ahead but hours of blissful flying, heading to CENTRALIA, their first departure point — or fix — on their way to Boston.
‘What do you say, Sean? Let’s have a good flight.’
‘You got it, Carrie.’
Brian looked up as one AirBox aircraft, and then another, and another, took off over him, deafening him with the noise of their engines. The pistol was out of bullets. He dropped the useless piece of metal on the ground.
He twisted his head to follow the aircrafts’ flight, knowing that each of them was carrying something horrible, something deadly, and that he had failed to prevent them from taking off.
He clenched his fists, screamed up in frustration at the departing aircraft.
Adrianna lowered the binoculars, smiling widely with happiness. One after another, her gifts to America had taken off to spread across this wide and darkened land. She felt her heart swell with joy, thinking of what was in every one of those aircraft, thinking of what was going to be sprayed out over all those cities in just a matter of hours.
She went back to her car, binoculars in hand, ready to leave this soon-to-be-dead nation.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Alexander Bocks was in his office at 2:30 a.m. when the phone call came in.
‘Mr Bocks?’
‘You got him.’
‘Sir, this is Carl Goodson, on-duty airport manager.’
‘Go ahead.’
‘Sir, we’ve got a threat report from Homeland Security. We’re shutting down operations, sealing the grounds and aircraft.’
Bocks leaned forward in his chair, something nasty beginning to chum in his stomach. ‘What’s the basis of the threat?’
‘Not known at this time, sir. We’ve been advised to close down. More information to follow.’
