Receiving no reply, he checked the headset connection and then repeated the message. “Payload, do you copy?”
All he heard was static.
He put the headset down in frustration. “Intercom must be out. I’m going to check on the missiles.”
He unbuckled his harness, stood up, and stepped toward the cockpit door. A knock sounded as he grew near. He opened thedoor, expecting the payload chief, and was instead confronted by two men with guns.
Knowing that if they got shot down in China, he wasn’t going to go quietly or allow himself to be captured, the flight leader had exercised his prerogative to arm himself.
Reaching for his sidearm, he tried to shout a warning. Before the words left his mouth, Kurt struck him with the rifle stock of his MP5. The blow cracked the flight leader’s jaw, the sound barely audible over the engine noise and the rushing wind.
He crumpled backward, landing on the deck as the two men rushed past him to get the drop on the pilots. The two pilots turned at the commotion, twisting in their seats, but strapped in by their harnesses and unable to do much more than look at their attackers in astonishment.
Kurt had entered the cockpit first and leveled his gun at the pilot, while Joe leaned around him to cover the copilot. For the moment both pilots held still, their hands rising off the controls and held up in an instinctive surrender position. The plane remained straight and level, the dark sea and whitecaps whipping past below them.
“Easy,” Kurt said. “Nobody move. Joe, how are we doing?”
Joe looked over the panel. “The autopilot appears to be on.”
Kurt found that to be a relief, but much like cruise control in a car, it could be disabled by the slightest movement of the controls. He kept his eyes on the pilot’s raised hands. If they flinched he would fire.
“Who are you?” the pilot demanded.
“We’re Americans,” Kurt said. “And we’re here to stop you from causing a war.”
“You’re too late,” the pilot replied. “Saber One will begin taking down your aircraft any minute now.”
Kurt figured it was a good time to engage in a conversation. The longer the plane flew on autopilot, the closer it would get to Saber One. “How far are we from the rendezvous?”
No one answered.
Kurt pushed the barrel of the gun toward the pilot.
“Nine minutes,” the pilot said finally.
Kurt tried to remember the details of the briefing. Saber One’s first attack would come against an American tanker. That would be happening in a few minutes.
“Out of the seat,” he demanded. He needed access to the radio.
The pilot looked at Kurt and then glanced at the copilot. He put a hand on the harness buckle and released it. Before he could stand, he shouted a command in Mandarin.
Both pilots moved instantly, one lunging for Kurt, the other grabbing for the control stick. The pilot managed to knock the muzzle of Kurt’s gun aside as he rushed him. Hesitant to fire inside the cockpit, Kurt released his grip on the gun and grabbed the pilot’s lapels as he bulled into him. He used the pilot’s momentum to fling him out of the cockpit, both men falling backward into the rear cabin and tumbling over the unconscious flight leader.
The pilot landed on top, grabbing Kurt in a clinch and trying to headbutt him in the face. Kurt managed to turn away at the last instant, feeling a metallic object poking into his lower back. It was the holstered pistol of the flight leader, whose limp body was beneath his. The pilot lunged again with the crown of his head, striking Kurt on the cheek. Kurt brushed off the pain, bucking the pilot enough to free his right arm and reach behind him. He grasped the pistol and swung it high, striking the pilot on the side of the neck with the weapon’s handle. The pilot’s eyes fluttered a moment and then he collapsed to the deck.
Kurt rose quickly and stepped to the cockpit. He felt his stomachrise as the plane suddenly tilted. Joe had dispatched the copilot with a well-aimed blow to the temple, but the man had fallen forward. Though he was restrained by the belts, his arm flopped onto the control yoke, twisting it to the side and causing the plane to roll.
The autopilot disengaged, the copilot fell backward in his seat, and the yoke came up. As a result, the Starlifter went into a steep, climbing turn.
Both Kurt and Joe fell backward, nearly pulled out of the cockpit by the sudden application of gravity.
Chapter 62
Kurt grasped the doorframe to keep himself from tumbling backward. Joe latched onto the arm of the jump seat and held tight.
The nose of the C-141 continued to tilt upward. It was losing speed and rolling. At any moment, it would either stall and fall out of the sky or roll over and nosedive.
Wedging his foot against a notch on the deck, Kurt lunged toward the pilot’s seat. He grabbed the backrest and pulled himself forward, struggling to slip into the seat. The plane was pointing upward as if climbing a steep hill. It started to shudder.
