Authors: Bruce Roland
For a few seconds as he jerked her around, Claire could see over Gnash’s right shoulder to where Herc was seated on the floor perhaps 30 feet away. Suddenly, he stood up, raised both of his tied hands high behind his back, then slammed them down across his butt. Somehow, amazingly, the zip tie broke! His arms were free and instantly he was sprinting toward them. She knew she had to somehow distract Gnash for a fraction of a second. She did the one thing she had the strength for—she spit full in his face. His face turned bright crimson, his battleship-grey eyes bulged and he drew back his fist to punch her in the face. She knew if he connected he would give her at best a severe concussion and at worst......”
Abruptly she felt Herc slam into Gnash’s back. She felt and heard a loud “Oomph!” as the air was forcibly expelled from his lungs. She and Gnash tumbled to the floor in a tangled heap, with her on the bottom. She managed to look up in time to see Herc fumbling behind Gnash’s back. A second later he stood up with Gnash’s gun in hand.
“Claire! Get away from him!” Herc barked.
Somehow she managed to summon the last vestiges of strength she had left and roll away from her assailant. She stood up and staggered toward Kay, then slumped back down next to him, too woozy and hurting to go any further. She turned back to see Gnash slowly getting to his feet as Herc aimed the gun at him and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. He stared at it in exasperation, then tried to recharge it.
Gnash laughed manically. “Very good, Mr. Ramond! You’re far more resourceful than I’d given you credit for. Unfortunately for you and your friends, that Ruger you hold has the latest in security measures. It has an electronic palm print reader built into the stock. It will only fire if I’m holding it.”
Herc looked at Gnash, smiled himself, then repeatedly smashed the gun down on the polished concrete floor, breaking it into several pieces.
Gnash chuckled some more. “Oh, come now! Do you really think that by destroying my gun it will make any difference?!” He straightened up as he finally caught his breath. “So I guess it finally comes down to just you and me, Mr. Ramond, doing what we both suspected would eventually happen from the moment we met in the hospital. It’s going to be a pleasure beating you to a pulp, then doing the same to your girlfriend and the old man.”
He crouched slightly and positioned himself in what to Claire looked like some sort of martial arts stance, then cautiously edged forward. She saw that he was not as confident as his words. Herc eased closer himself, his weight balanced on the balls of his feet. Claire knew this would not be a boxing match governed by the gentlemanly, 160 year-old Marquis of Queensberry rules. This would be no carefully scripted movie fight where Bruce Lee, Chuck Norris, or Jean-Claude Van Damme obliterated their opponents who obligingly froze in place as the heroes waded in. She suspected it would be nothing less that a fight to the death governed by no more than who could kill the other in whatever way possible. In spite of her suspicions she prayed it wouldn’t end that way. At least not with Herc being killed. She felt her pulse begin to pound, exacerbating the pain building in her head and jaw.
The two men had closed to within 9 or 10 feet of each other when Gnash charged, feinting in one direction then spinning into a classic, roundhouse leg kick, aimed at Herc’s head. Instead of dodging back, Herc surprisingly ducked under Gnash’s leg then darted forward to get inside his adversary’s superior reach. For the next several seconds there was a blur of knee and leg kicks and punches thrown by both men that were all blocked by the other. Suddenly Herc staggered sideways and back from one of Gnash’s knees that had caught him just above the hip. Gnash smiled and moved forward, then lashed out with a straight-right punch aimed at Herc’s head. Herc deflected the blow with his left forearm, then chopped downwards with his right hand at Gnash’s exposed right elbow. Gnash grunted in pain but managed to dodge Herc’s left hook that narrowly missed the bigger man’s jaw a tiny fraction of a second later.
The two separated again, warily circling each other, looking for any opening in their opponent’s defenses. Without warning, Gnash did what she’d been fearing and expecting from the beginning. He simply charged forward, managed to avoid several of Herc’s counter blows, and wrapped his massive arms around Herc’s rib cage. He picked the smaller man up and squeezed. Claire heard a rib crack from where she was lying. Herc yelled in pain but managed to savagely head-butt Gnash in the nose causing blood to spurt. He instantly followed that up by brutally smashing Gnash’s ears with cupped hands. The big man howled in agony. Claire knew the blows to his ears had ruptured Gnash’s eardrums. Herc fell to the floor as Gnash released him, then watched as Gnash stumbled back in anguish. Without hesitation Herc leaped up, rushed forward and viciously kicked Gnash in the kneecap. He screamed again and crashed to the floor on his back, writhing in misery from the pain in his elbow, nose, ears and knee. Claire was certain at any other time the injuries would have landed Gnash in the hospital for at least a week. Herc stared down at the fallen giant. She could see he was deciding how to finish what Gnash had started. There were many ways to kill another man with just bare hands or feet. He then turned to look at Claire and Kay. He had an expression she’d never seen before. She knew what he was asking for.
“No!” she said quietly. “Don’t do it! Not even him! Not even now! We must not become what he was!”
“You’re about to begin a journey that no modern man has ever faced,” Kay added. “Start it with a clear conscience.”
Breathing heavily, Herc looked down again at former FBI special agent Quinten Gnash, now bleeding, contorted and moaning on the floor “You’re right. He’s not worth it.”
Chapter 48
Claire sat quietly on a bench in the spacesuit assembly room. A half dozen technicians were nearing the end of the complex process of putting on her multimillion dollar, life-support system. It had taken far longer than she had anticipated. Each meticulous step required infinite patience from both her and her “dressers” to ensure they got it precisely correct. Any mistake would almost certainly result in a very ugly death. She now had a better understanding of why Kay had wanted to charge his space tourists so much for their joyrides into orbit.
Seated around her were Herc, Scott, Christina, Tomas and Felicia as they too watched and assisted as needed as Kay’s spacesuit support team finished up.
During the several hours that had passed since they had begun the spacesuit operation, Claire couldn’t help but reflect on the horror of the events in the hangar with Quinten Gnash two days prior. She turned—although only slightly due to the processes restrictions—to Herc seated next to her. “What do you think Gnash did after you left him?”
Herc thought for a moment, then said, “Not sure really. After we got him situated in the hospital bed and filled with pain killers, I asked him what he was going to do. All he said was, ‘Leave me a couple of needles and as many ampoules of morphine as you’ve got.’”
“Do you really think he killed himself,” Felicia asked.
“He really didn’t have much choice. There’s no nursing staff, no housekeeping; the spaceport is completely deserted—although we did leave him with several gallons of water and some food near his bed. The hospital HVAC system was turned off days ago. It’s either inject himself with as much morphine as it takes to get the job done right away or die in agony as the drugs wear off. My guess is he did it shortly after I left. If you think about it, it’s as peaceful a way to go as there is. In my opinion, we showed him far more mercy than he deserved.”
No one said anything for a few minutes as the assembly process neared its end.
“You know, Herc, I still don’t understand how you got out of that zip tie,” Scott said. “I thought those things were indestructible.”
“It’s the locking tab that’s the weak point. You’re right in one respect, though. If you simply try to break the plastic you’ll just tear your skin to shreds. When I had Claire cinch it as tight as she could, it put a lot more stress on the tab than normal. When I swung my hands down and hit my butt, I rotated my hands outward at the same instant. The combination of the two forces in conjunction with the already stressed tab, caused it to fail. Then, I was out.”
“I had no idea you knew so much about fighting—or how to get out of zip ties,” Christina observed dryly.
“They teach you a lot of valuable stuff in the Air Force. Of course, taking classes from mixed-martial arts instructors over the years helped a little as well.”
“How’s your rib?” Claire asked.
“Not too bad. It’s not the first time I’ve broken one. But how about you? Looks like the swelling in your eye and cheeks has gone down a bit.”
“Yeah. They’re doing better. I’m lucky he didn’t loosen a tooth, though.”
“Where are Kay and Kyung going to go once they get us into orbit?” Tomas asked Herc.
“He says one of his bunkers in Idaho. It’s apparently more isolated than the others. He’s hoping the locals haven’t moved in.”
Just then, six members of the suit assembly team slowly and carefully lowered each person’s helmet onto their collars, then rotated and locked them into place. A moment later each could hear and feel their individual, hand-held, battery-powered ventilator cases kick in. Cooled, filtered air begin to flow into their suits.
“Okay, everybody! We’re done with everything in here,” the team supervisor said over the wireless comm system each had within their helmets. “Our next step is to help you get to the Spacerider. So let’s do it!”
They all stood, picked up their cases and slowly started walking out of the room. Outside in the hallway, four golf carts waited for them. They’d all practiced how to walk in the suits but it was still cumbersome and awkward. She stepped up into one of the carts and sat down, then watched as the others did the same. Memories she had as a girl watching the space shuttle astronauts waving to the cameras as they headed toward their launch, flooded her mind.
In a few moments they were headed out of the building and into the cold, overcast, mid-January day. The weather forecast had called for snow flurries later that evening. She wouldn’t be seeing any for at least two years. Depending on where they landed when they returned—assuming they were able to return—she might never see it again.
The carts moved easily across the tarmac toward the waiting Antonov-225 with the Spacerider sitting in its cradle on top. A large scaffold had been assembled on one side to allow them to climb several flights of stairs to reach the entry hatch. A small group of technicians and helpers stood nearby. As they approached, she saw Kay and Kyung standing with them. Claire was reminded that after the confrontation and battle with Gnash they’d all been depressed. Not so much by the fight itself—although it was bad enough—as the realization their plans to reach orbit had apparently died when Gnash killed the only fully trained AN-225 pilot other than Herc. Without him there was apparently no one who could fly the giant aircraft and get them to launch altitude—until Herc shared a bit of Kay and Kyung-Hee’s life stories that nobody else knew.
Kay had met his future wife when they were both very young. He’d always had a passionate interest in flying because of his father being a pilot in the South Korean Air Force. On numerous occasions a very-young Kay had stood at the end of one of the air base’s runways and watched his father take off in an F-86 Saber Jet fighter. As he soared into the sky on patrol, his father, Joo-Won Seok, would waggle his wings as a way of saying “Hello!” to his son and wife. Kay had met Kyung for the first time when she was a girl doing the same thing with her mother. When they became teens they both had taken private flying lessons from the same school at the same time. It was love from the beginning. Over the years both had maintained their licenses although Kay had a multi-engine certification. As Claire thought about it now she realized there was a very good reason Kay had been Herc’s copilot in the Gulfstream 150—he was fully certified in the plane himself. If for some reason Herc couldn’t fly, Kay could have easily taken over.
Now, Kay would be the one who was at the controls of the 225 as it took aloft the people who hoped to build a new future for humanity. Although not certified in the 225, Kay had recently spent nearly as much time in the classroom as the six astronauts, learning as much as he could about the largest aircraft in the world. Herc had explained further that all modern, commercial passenger aircraft were computerized to the degree that in theory many could taxi, takeoff, fly to any destination, land and taxi again to the correct gate without human intervention. The 225 was no different, and in fact more computerized than any other cargo aircraft—thanks to Kay’s modifications. Kay would be on board in case something went wrong. He would then have the knowledge to take control from the computer and from that point on fly the parameters of the mission as necessary.
Claire slid off the seat of the cart and trundled toward the stairs. Those waiting formed a small “victor’s corridor” for them to pass through on their way to the Spacerider. Everyone smiled, waved and called out “Good Luck!”—although Claire knew that luck would have little to do with their undertaking.
Within thirty minutes all six were seated and strapped into the Spacerider with Herc in the pilot’s seat in front and Claire, Scott, Christina, Tomas and Felicia directly behind him in the passenger’s compartment. She watched as Herc began going through an extensive check list from a large binder. After a few more minutes he said, “All set here. Ready for taxi.”
Suddenly she heard the 225’s powerful engines begin to spool up and shortly thereafter felt the conjoined planes begin to move. She looked out the thick portholes and watched as they taxied into takeoff position. Moments later the engines roared to full power and she felt the g-forces push her gently back into her seat. As they lifted off and ascended toward the gray skies she looked out at the Texas landscape, then turned and saw the other four doing the same. She couldn’t help but wonder what it would all look like in a month.
Over the cabin’s intercom Scott said, “Herc, yesterday you said your house in Nevada was where we’ll eventually return and hopefully live for a while. Do you think it’ll survive everything that’s coming?”
“Yeah. It’s too far inland for any waves to get to it. And it’s set deep enough back in the cave to protect it from falling debris. My only major concern is whether local residents will find it and try to hunker down. Because I kept it as secret as I could from the beginning, I think it’ll still be there and unoccupied when we come back.”
“How about the salt flats?” Christina asked. “You want to land on them in the Spacerider. Will they be effected to the point we can’t?”
“I don’t really know,” Herc replied. “But they’re huge. I’m confident we’ll be able to find a long enough patch somewhere that I can land us safely. Once we’re down we’ll hike to Wendover. I’ve got my car stored there in a garage. I’m hoping it will be in one piece and we can get it out the door. Hiking up the mountain won’t be any fun, otherwise. Of course, in the meantime we’ve got a lot to do just to get to that point.”
“Yeah, I know,” Christina said softly.
For the next hour the 225 slowly climbed to 40,000 feet with its heavy payload. As it did, Herc again covered what was to come from the point they separated from the 225 until they got to the ISS. He also connected them to the plane-to-plane intercom so they could hear Kay.
Finally, they heard Kay say, “Okay. We’re at 40. Standing by for computer countdown to separation descent maneuvering......Mark!....T-minus 30 seconds and counting......Thank you all for what you’re about to do. God bless!”
It was the first time Claire had heard Kay use any religious phrase. She’d never been much of a religious person herself, but at this moment she couldn’t help but agree. If there was a God he needed to be with them in the next few minutes. Of course, as she thought about it, maybe all those pastors, priests and rabbis out there
were
right, maybe this
was
God’s plan. After all, according to the Bible—and many other religions—he’d destroyed the Earth before. Maybe he was destroying it once more and about to begin again with them.
“...10..9..8...descent maneuver coming....now! Good-bye and farewell my friends!”
Claire felt the planes suddenly drop and her stomach lurched.
Herc then took over control. Several moments later he said, “Separation successful. Glide slope is perfect. 225 is turning away. Spacerider engine ignition in 5.....4.....3....2....1...!”
Everyone was crushed into their seats by a massive hand and heard an intense roar. Claire felt the Spacerider tilt back further and further until it seemed nearly vertical. She suddenly remembered what Herc had told them and began to do abdominal crunches and pant to keep from blacking out. She could hear Christina, Scott, Tomas and Felicia doing the same. Christina was moaning as well.
“Engine running normally. Everything looks good!” Herc yelled above the rocket’s noise. During training Herc had warned them the rocket-powered ascent to orbit would be the longest 9 minutes of their lives. As the Spacerider accelerated and Herc called out their speed, horrific images of the shuttle Challenger exploding shortly after launch in 1986 filled Claire’s mind.
“Speed now 5,000 miles per hour........
10,000......
15,000......
.......escape velocity achieved!”
And then, finally, “Engine shutdown in 4.... 3.... 2.... 1....shutdown successful!”
Suddenly the giant hand was gone and they could all stop panting.
“We’re in orbit!” Herc declared triumphantly. “We made it! The rest is easy from here!”
‘No, we haven’t made it!’ Claire thought, ignoring for a moment what Herc meant. ‘It’s just beginning and the ‘rest’ is going to be anything but easy!’