Glancing at the map, Joe could see a different issue up ahead. Two miles on, a bridge crossed the river, and then another and another. Strangely, Joe remembered someone calling Fozhou the city of bridges. A quick glance at the map had proven this to be true.
If he could dive under some of them, or skim the tops of the lower ones, while Saber One climbed to fly above them, each bridge would pull him closer to taking the lead. If he managed to gain the lead by even a hundred feet, it would give Kurt the opportunity to enact his plan.
He tapped the intercom button. “You’re going to get a chance in a few minutes,” he said. “Whatever you have in mind, be ready.”
Kurt lowered the tail ramp at the back of the plane. A hurricane of noise and wind stormed in. Out beyond he saw the rushing water and the mottled landscape roar past.
The plane dipped. The ramp almost hit the water. The power lines flashed overhead, disappearing behind them.
Silently, Kurt marveled at Joe’s flying ability. If he had joined the Air Force, he would have been a test pilot or a member of the Thunderbirds. With Joe at the controls, he knew they had a chance.
Ignoring the shuddering airframe and the howling wind, Kurt went from one cart to another, releasing the brakes and disconnecting the tie-down chains that held them in place.
The plane pitched again. This time pulling up. A low concrete bridge flashed past. A truck tumbled over on its side, lifted off its wheels by the Starlifter’s wake turbulence. A second bridge was skimmed without incident. By the time they skipped over the third, Kurt had freed the entire baggage train.
He climbed on the tug that had been used to pull the missiles onto the plane and prepared to push them out.
Without warning, the jet banked to the right. And instead of a shallow bump upward and quick drop down, it climbed sharply as if trying to scale a mountain.
The baggage train pulled tight. The tug began to slide backward. Kurt stepped hard on the brake and the big tires gripped the deck and held firm.
Through the open door, Kurt saw the city of Fuzhou with all of its high-rise towers, condos, and factories. He saw a bridge pass beneath them, then four more, all packed together across a narrow gap where the river turned to the right.
The first bridge was a low concrete span. It was followed by a pairof suspension bridges boasting tall, white towers. Shimmering steel cables stretched from the towers to the bridge deck like the strings of a giant harp. A bullet train was forging its way across one bridge on a set of tracks.
Both bridges were high enough that Joe might have flown under them, but another pair of older and lower bridges blocked their path.
The area known as Five Bridges retreated rapidly behind the plane as Joe dove to the river once more. They were heading east now, directly toward the Chinese command center.
Joe’s voice came over the intercom. “One more bridge up ahead. It’s now or never.”
Kurt revved the engine and then put the tug in gear.
Chapter 71
In the front of the plane, Joe watched a colorful palette of warning lights come on. The plane had been overstressed. There was an issue with the hydraulics. Worst of all the engines were overheating. A condition pilots called overtemp. The Starlifter had been going too fast, for too long, at too low an altitude. The engines were simply not designed to run at full power in the thick air for that length of time.
Saber One seemed to be dealing with the same problem. Thin trails of smoke now streamed from two of its four engines. It had slowed enough for Joe to think he could get past it at the next bridge. But with his own overtemp issue Joe had to reduce power.
It was a temporary fix. Damage had been done. Catastrophic failures were imminent. At the same time, they were only five miles from the control center. Less than two minutes at these speeds. One way or another that marked the end of the road.
The two jets roared along the water, whipping up the surface in a cloud of mist and spray that trailed them like a pair of water demons or angry specters.
They roared toward the Langqi Minjiang Bridge, one of thelargest in China. The span between its great towers stretched over eighteen hundred feet. A gap of two hundred feet stood between the deck and the water. High enough and wide enough for the large jets to fly under with relative ease.
Joe could see the problem now. Saber One was going to stay along the deck. Their last chance to make up ground would never happen. The Chinese command hub lay on an island two miles beyond the bridge.
The planes thundered closer. Joe willed Saber One to climb, but it stubbornly clung to the river, blocking him. He had no choice. He shoved the throttles to full, gained what speed he could, and pulled back on the stick.
Aboard Saber One the laser technician saw the Starlifter rise. It suddenly appeared into the targeting field. He’d been focusing on the command center up ahead, but this was their chance to deal with the Americans. He tapped the screen, locked onto their pursuer, and activated the laser.
The mirrors changed their position and focused. The high-pitched squeal sounded once again. The laser fired.
But instead of a fuel-driven explosion, all he saw through the camera was a sudden wall of darkness followed by a small eruption of dust and debris.
Saber One had flown under the bridge and the six-lane concrete deck had come between the laser and its target. The powerful beam vaporized a section of the concrete, superheating it instantly and causing thousands of small fragments to eject outward in a thermal explosion. A section of steel girder took the second shot, melting asthe laser burrowed through it. A third shot sliced one of the harp-string-like cables, while a fourth blasted the main tower.
The damage was significant, but the bridge stood. The Starlifter passed overhead, shielded by its bulk. When the technician reacquired the pursuing plane, it was directly above them. It dove downward and pulled in front.
