The Galaxy pivots and Judd realises it is coming back towards him. He looks down and sees that he’s on the runway. He’s thrilled. It’s his first piece of good fortune since he arrived in this country. He jogs to the middle of the runway and stops. It’s a relief to stand still.
The Galaxy’s turbofans run up and kick back a rolling cloud of red dust as it starts towards him, obscuring Tango’s chopper. Judd cocks the pistol.
**
Kelvin throttles up. He’s going to need every inch of the runway to get this double-decker monstrosity into the sky. Not only is the Galaxy carrying
Atlantis,
but it also has a full load of fuel in its wings and the new reservoir tank in the hold, plus a full complement of passengers. It’s a heavy package, perhaps the heaviest Galaxy to ever fly.
He sees something on the runway. ‘What the hell is that?’
Nico focuses on it, confused. ‘A man?’
‘What do I do?’
‘Keep going.’
‘You sure?’
‘What’s he going to do? We’re in a Galaxy.’
‘You’re the boss.’ Kelvin throttles up.
**
The Galaxy thunders towards Judd, 300 metres and closing. He’s directly in the path of the fuselage so he takes ten steps to the left. Two hundred metres and closing. He aims the pistol at the front tyres, tracks with them as he starts to run, the shriek of turbofans deafening. One hundred metres and closing. The desert shakes under his feet as he squeezes the trigger . ..
The Galaxy is upon him. He sprints. The nearest of the four front tyres is 10 metres away but it’s impossible to get closer because the fuselage is so large. He fires at it.
The bullet hits its mark - and has no discernible effect. He can’t keep up with the front tyres so he turns, aims at a rear tyre, fires. Again, the bullet does nothing. This is not working. This will not stop the jet from taking off.
He looks at the turbofan above. Maybe shooting that will. He aims the pistol, squeezes the trigger - and stops. The engine could explode, detonate the fuel in the wing and destroy
Atlantis.
Or it could flame out and stop the Galaxy from taking off.
He doesn’t know what to do.
Then he does.
He fires.
Nothing happens.
Judd falls behind the Galaxy, tries to stay close to the fuselage to avoid the jet wash, but that doesn’t work either. The wall of dust slams into him, slaps him to the dirt.
The Galaxy thunders away.
He’s lost her.
Just audible above the roar of the engines is a noise. Drums, rhythmic and African, then percussion, like someone’s tapping a bottle with a stick.
Judd tries to place the sound as it grows louder. A bass joins in, then strings and horns fill out the song as a familiar voice cuts across the landscape.
‘Her name was Lola…’
**
43
The Loach screams over the desert, Barry Manilow booming ‘Copacabana’ from its speaker. Corey watches the Galaxy race along the runway, then looks to the desert below.
Spooked by the music, three hundred and fifty head of cattle stampede towards the jet. Behind them Spike is in full gallop, barking expertly as he drives them on. He could be a pain in the arse but he was one hell of a cattle dog.
The herd closes in on the Galaxy. They’re less than 500 metres away.
**
Judd searches for the source of the music, glimpses a blur of yellow in the sky, focuses on it.
The Loach. Corey came back! Then below the chopper Judd sees the cattle, hundreds and hundreds of cattle. They swarm onto the runway in front of the Galaxy. Judd lets out a sharp, delighted laugh, pulls himself up and runs on.
**
Kelvin stares at the cattle, dumbfounded. He doesn’t know if he can get the Galaxy in the air before it reaches them.
He realises
this
is what he’s been looking for.
This
is his escape plan. He’ll pretend to stop the jet, but plough into the herd. The landing gear will be destroyed and they’ll crash. In the ensuing pandemonium he’ll slip away, alert the relevant authorities and then:
hero time!
And if, for some reason, he can’t slip away, at least it
looked
like he was trying to avoid the accident. No one can blame him if there’s a herd of cattle in the middle of the runway.
**
Corey turns down the volume, watches the Galaxy race towards the livestock. He had only flown as far as Clem Alpine’s cattle station before the guilt of leaving Judd kicked in. Then he had the bright idea of ‘borrowing’ Clem’s cattle for a few hours. Clem would be pissed off when he found out, but then Clem was always pissed off about something. Moving the herd across the desert had taken the rest of the night.
Suddenly Corey feels real concern for the herd. He knows they’re just beef, destined for McDonald’s or the supermarket, but he still doesn’t want to see them hurt. It’s not their fault these people stole a space shuttle.
**
Kelvin can’t do it. He can’t bring himself to plough into the cattle because he doesn’t know if he’ll survive it. He may have only six months to live but that’s better than six seconds. So he forgets about being a hero and decides to take the money.
He throttles up, and feels a slight hesitation through the levers. Decades of experience tells him there’s a problem with the Galaxy’s inboard portside engine. It could be any number of issues. Usually he’d throttle back, abort take-off and send the jet over to the boys in maintenance, but he has no such luxury today. That herd is too close.
He needs all four turbofans operating at full power to get this thing off the deck in time. He holds his breath, pulls up the Galaxy’s nose and keeps throttling.
The cattle are just there. The hesitation clears and the turbofans sing, drag the huge jet off the desert runway.
‘Come on!’ Kelvin waits for the clunk of bovine on undercarriage. It doesn’t come. He breathes out, points the jet on a northward track, and reviews his decision. He has no regrets. He’s heard Fiji is lovely this time of year. He’ll retire to Fiji, or Tahiti. Either way he’ll die somewhere in the Pacific.
**
The Galaxy’s rear wheels miss the cattle by less than a metre. Stricken, Judd watches the jet lumber into the sky. He has failed Rhonda and the hollow pain in his heart is worse than anything he can remember, including that terrible February day in 2003.
Rotor blades echo behind him. He turns, takes in the black chopper as it skims the desert towards him, 500 metres away and closing fast.
He doesn’t know if killing Tango in Berlin will make him feel better but he’s willing to give it a try. He raises the pistol, aims it at the dark shape and the German he knows is inside. ‘Come on, motherfucker. Come and get me.’
**
That’s exactly what Dirk is doing. He focuses on the astronaut, astonished he’s alive. Big Bird’s equally surprised. His voice buzzes in Dirk’s headset: ‘Didn’t you kill this prick already?’
‘He must have been wearing a bulletproof vest or . . .’ Dirk doesn’t bother finishing the sentence. He just aims the Top Hawk helmet at the astronaut. ‘Let’s put a ribbon on this thing and go home.’
**
Dust swirls and a shadow falls over Judd. He looks up as the Loach drops from the sky, thumps onto the desert beside him.
Corey furiously waves him in. Stunned, Judd doesn’t have to be asked twice. Three steps and he’s in the cockpit. He turns, sees a missile blast away from the black chopper, fly straight for the Loach.
**
44
Corey watches the missile as he kicks the Loach off the desert. ‘Grab something!’ He tips the chopper hard left.
‘Christ!’ Judd hasn’t strapped in yet. He grasps the doorframe to stop himself being ejected from the cockpit, then is jolted back inside as the Loach breaks right and ascends quickly. The missile follows.
Corey sees it in the side-view mirror. ‘We got Tango in Berlin to thank for that?’
Judd nods. ‘Who else?’
‘This bloke’s making a career out of pissing me off.’
The missile closes fast. ‘Hold on!’ Corey tips the Loach into a dizzyingly steep dive. The missile follows.
A metre off the deck the Loach pulls up sharply - and the missile doesn’t. It slams into the desert and the explosion is massive. A wall of red dust billows into the sky. The Australian swings the Loach in a tight arc back towards it.
Judd buckles up, pulls on the headset. Corey glances at him. ‘You okay?’
Judd nods though it’s clear he isn’t. He glances across at the Galaxy as it lifts
Atlantis
into the dawn sky. ‘Didn’t get to Rhonda.’
‘Sorry, mate. Wish the cattle had worked better.’
‘No, that was great.’
‘Least I could do after leaving. Feel terrible about that.’
‘Forget it.’ Judd sees they’re approaching the wall of dust. ‘What are we doing?’
Corey has his eyes locked on the black chopper in the side-view mirror. ‘Dealing with this guy once and for all.’
‘How?’
‘I got a plan.’ Corey reaches behind him, grabs something from the back seat, drops it in Judd’s lap.
Judd stares at it, dumbfounded. ‘That’s the plan?’
Corey grins his crooked grin. ‘I’m always thinking.’
**
Big Bird angles the Tiger around the edge of the dust cloud, searches for the Loach. ‘Where is it?’
Dirk can’t see it, then he can. ‘Up there!’ He points at the yellow chopper 100 metres above, 200 metres away and flying towards them - upside down.
**
The Loach passes over the apex of a loop. Everything that was on the floor hits the ceiling. Corey and Judd hang in their harnesses.
‘Jesus!’ Judd holds on for dear life.
‘Told you I could pull a loop!’ Corey locks eyes on the black chopper directly below. ‘Now!’
On his command Judd throws the lucky bucket, chunks of jagged rock wedged inside, out the open doorway. It drops towards the black chopper in a graceful arc.
**
The bucket doesn’t hit the Tiger’s rotor blades but strikes its windscreen and jars it from its frame. The air pressure jams it into the cabin and it slams Big Bird in the head. He’s wearing a helmet but the impact is significant.
Dazed, he fights to keep control of the chopper as it spirals to the desert below. Behind him Dirk says: ‘Are you —?’
The Tiger lands hard and he doesn’t finish the sentence.
**
Corey tips the Loach into a steep bank. ‘Did it hit?’
Judd looks back, scans the dispersing dust cloud, waits for the black chopper to emerge, cannons blazing.
It doesn’t. The dust clears and he sees it. ‘It’s on the ground!’ Judd can’t believe such a poorly considered quick fix actually worked.
‘Ha ha! Told you it was lucky!’ Corey taps his temple, thrilled. ‘I’m always thinking!’
‘You’re always thinking!’ Judd is swept up in the moment, any feelings of despair momentarily forgotten. Then he turns and catches sight of the Galaxy as it lifts above the sunrise.
A bright flash, then flames shoot from its inner portside engine, thick black smoke trailing behind. It brings his moment of euphoria to a screeching halt.
**
An alarm shrieks. Kelvin scans the Galaxy’s instrument panel, Nico’s face a portrait of concern. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Engine fire.’ Kelvin silences the alarm then activates the extinguisher system, shuts down the engine he knew had a problem.
Nico’s on edge. ‘Are we okay? Can we still make it?’
‘Fire’s out.’ Kelvin scans the gauges. ‘We’ll be slow but we should be okay, as long as we don’t lose another one.’
**
Corey stares at Judd, unbelieving. ‘Why would you shoot the engine?’
‘I was trying to stop it taking off. It seemed like a good idea at the time.’
The black smoke that streams from the engine thins out.
‘Fire’s out.’ Judd blinks long and hard, relieved. He turns, studies the winch between the seats, focuses on the thick blue Dynamica rope wound around it.
Corey follows his gaze and eyes him suspiciously. ‘What?’
‘How much weight can this rope hold?’
Corey shrugs. ‘A lot. A hundred and forty thousand kilos. Why?’
‘I need you to get me to the Galaxy.’ His hands go Rubik. ‘I’ve got a plan.’
‘I can’t catch that thing.’
‘You can. It’s heavy, and one engine is out.’
‘Sorry, I meant I don’t
want
to catch that thing.’
‘Come on.’
‘You come on. It’ll be at 30000 feet in a minute.’
‘That’s why we need to get to it now.’
‘And what happens when we arrive?’
‘I gotta plan.’
‘You said that already.’
‘Just do this one last thing.’