Impact Read Free Page B

disconnected his external headset and stepped clear.
    Pinback:
    ‘All right. Engine start.’
    Ground crew wearing heavy ear defenders fired up the start-cart. Air injected at 30 psi kicked engine pod two into life. Engines three and four boosted the other turbofans to motion.
    ‘Starting one, starting two …’
    Throttles to Idle. Check rpms.
    A shudder ran through the plane. Escalating jet roar.
    Start-cart rolled clear.
    Chocks removed.
    Clearance to taxi.
    The lower cabin.
    Frost secured the floor hatch and replaced the deck cover.
    She strapped herself into the radar nav chair. She secured her helmet, jacked her oxygen feed and radio. She loaded cryptographic presets, slotted a data transfer cartridge and uploaded flight data.
    It would be a quiet journey. Noble, the Electronic Warfare Officer, would have little to do. There would be no air contacts, no acquisition lock from enemy radar. They would fly through empty skies. Drum his fingers until the final moments when he would confirm authorisation to deploy, call the countdown, then hit WPN REL. The missile would drop from the payload bay. Boosters would fire and the ALCM would begin its journey, skimming the dunes at Mach zero-point-five.
Liberty Bell
would circle at safe distance and wait for the blast.
    Ten kilotons. A mix of dread and exhilaration.
    Guthrie leant close, conspiratorial:
    ‘What do think?’ he asked, gesturing up the ladderwell to the flight deck.
    ‘Hancock? A true believer. A zealot and an asshole.’
    Frost took gum from her mouth and glued her lucky coin to the console. She secured her oxygen mask and adjusted her harness.
    Flaps lowered. Brakes released.
    ‘Let’s roll her out the barn.’
    Pinback eased the throttles forwards.
    The massive B-52 slowly rolled from the hangar out onto the floodlit chevrons of the slipway.
    They followed lead-on lights to the runway. Slow taxi to the head of 19R.
    The plane jinked starboard, aligned itself on the threshold, facing the nine-thousand foot strip.
    Pinback secured his oxygen hose and mask. He jacked the interphone cable.
    ‘Trench. You copy?’
    ‘Ten-four.’
    ‘Hit the lights.’
    Runway lamps, centre line and edge. Brilliant white. A wide boulevard stretching to vanishing point.
    First time Pinback had seen the perimeter fence from an elevated perspective. Hundreds of infected butting the wire.
    ‘Jesus Christ. They can’t hold them back much longer.’
    ‘Not our problem,’
said Hancock. He checked output dials.
‘EPR good.’
    ‘Ejector seat arm.’
    ‘Ejector seat arm. You have the plane.’
    ‘Time to hit the road.’
    Pinback gripped the throttle levers and eased them forwards. Airspeed indicator crept from zero.
    Increasing thrust. Pressed back in their seats by acceleration. Engine rumble rising to an earthquake jet-roar.
    Hancock:
    ‘… Twenty knots. Thirty …’
    Pinback glanced down at the central alert panel. Winking red light.
    ‘Intermittent fuel warning on three.’
    The warning light shut off.
    ‘Cleared,’
said Hancock.
    ‘I’m calling abort. We need to put her back in the hangar and check it out.’
    ‘Negative. You will fly the plane.’
    ‘I’m ranking AC.’
    ‘And I have tactical command. The warning has cleared. You will get this bird in the air and complete the mission.’
    Heading for the end lights and stopway. Moment of decision. Pinback increased thrust.
    ‘… sixty, sixty five …’
    Airspeed clocked seventy.
    He eased back the control column.
    Nose up.
    Wheels left asphalt.
    They took to the sky.



5
    Frost woke face down in sand.
    Her field of vision: a gloved hand viewed through the amber tint of her visor. A Nomex gauntlet. Seams, strap cuffs, and her, alive, looking at it.
    She rolled onto her shoulder.
    Dunes rippled heat.
    She fumbled the sweat-slicked silicone of her oxygen mask and released the latch. She pulled off her helmet and threw it aside. It rolled. The airhose snaked in the dust.
    Fierce sun. Blue sky. She shielded