The Last Mission of the Living (The Last Bastion #2)(86)

To protect the lower, ancient city, the upper city had been built on enormous platforms supported by pylons sunk deep into the earth. Crisscrossing roadways, walkways, and monorail tracks created an almost beautiful web between the elevated cityscape. Their flight path took them beneath the lattice of metal and concrete. The engineers of the city had created passages for aircraft underneath the upper city.

As the tiltrotor rose out of the food depot, Scoggins followed the flight path of the other departing aircraft. Watching the feed from the cameras under the cockpit, Lindsey was relieved when Torran’s tiltrotor cleared the passage and turned over the river that wound through the city. Her tiltrotor was just a few seconds behind, and the harness caught her body firmly as the craft banked to the right.

A deafening explosion was followed by the tiltrotor bucking wildly. Flung to one side, the straps keeping her secure bit hard into Lindsey’s armor and the pressure shoved the air out of her lungs. The interior lights flickered on and off, then went dark. The emergency klaxon sang through the gloom.

“Report,” she gasped. “Scoggins! Report!”

“...right rotor... engine...” The pilot’s voice was garbled.

Another boom sent the tiltrotor into a terrifying spin. The centrifugal force drove Lindsey against the seat as the feed on her helmet flashed wildly. One image, sent from an aerial drone following the tiltrotor, revealed that the cockpit was severely damaged and fire spreading along the right side of the aircraft. Straining to hit her wristlet, Lindsey saw the terrified faces of the squad around her illuminated by the lights in their helmets. Across from her, Hobbes and Franklin clasped hands.

The autopilot flipped on and attempted to pull the tiltrotor out of the sickening downward spiral. Lindsey was tossed forward as an auxiliary engine sputtered to life. Relief flooded her as the tiltrotor stopped its wild rotation and attempted to straighten as the autopilot regained control. Shaking fingers pulling at the release on her harness, Lindsey’s mind was already a whirlwind of plans on how she could take over the pilot controls and get them to safety.

The harness release didn’t budge.

Again, she pulled at it, desperate to get to the cockpit.

A second later, she realized it was too late when the feeds from the tiltrotor’s exterior cameras refreshed on her helmet screen.

The aircraft slammed into the river.



*



The chief defender’s tiltrotor circled the struggling aircraft at a safe distance. Torran watched his feed and listened to the pilot attempting to reach Scoggins. The chief defender’s voice didn’t even register in his mind as he watched the tiltrotor ferrying Lindsey spinning wildly out of control.

“...emergency protocols should activate...” someone was shouting, then Torran realized it was Dr. Curran.

To his relief, the auxiliary engine extended out of the side of the ailing craft and flared to life. His heart in his throat, he watched the other tiltrotor manage to break its spin, but then a hush fell over the comm as it dropped like a stone into the river below. The aerial drones whipped around the crash as the tiltrotor listed to one side, obviously taking on water, then swiftly started to vanish beneath the dark waves.

“We have to rescue them,” Torran shouted. He’d hit the release on his harness and was on his feet before he even realized it.

“We can’t rescue them,” the chief defender replied, her face and voice tense.

“There are twenty people down there. Our people!”

“The Scrags are already rushing to the crash site. I will not risk this squad...”

The rest of her words became white noise. Torran stared at his commanding officer shouting at him and made his choice. Tearing off his helmet, he ran to the back of the tiltrotor.

“MacDonald!”

Popping the emergency hatch, he saw the dark water of the river below, but knew he had scant seconds before the aircraft would be over the dead city again. Clutching his helmet in one hand while securing his weapon to his armor, he dropped out of the tiltrotor. The wind tore at him as he plunged. He straightened his body, aiming to land feet first, and let go of his helmet. Pulling his arms in tight to his body, he exhaled as the dark river rushed up.

When he struck the water, the impact was jarring, but not painful. Thankfully, the river was deep enough that he didn’t hit the bottom. The coldness of the water stunned him for a brief second, then he kicked toward the surface, his helmet bobbing on the ripples left from his dive was his target. When he broke through to the air, he grabbed it firmly with one hand while dragging moist air into his lungs.

Flipping onto his back, Torran floated while reattaching his helmet. The feed immediately started to reboot once it was connected to his armor. The sound of the departing tiltrotor faded into the distance and the impact of his decision sent tremors of fear through him. One look toward the wing of the crashed tiltrotor sticking out of the murky water was enough to spur him into action and ignore the fright blooming in his mind. His weapon bumped against his chest as he swam. The armor’s internal regulators switched on and started to warm him. Teeth still chattering, he swam as fast as he could manage.

“...we’re almost out of range...” the chief defender’s voice said, bursting through the speakers in his helmet as the comm rebooted. “...you’re on your own until...”

Torran was fairly certain a rescue team wouldn’t be in route until after the convoy had returned to The Bastion. He didn’t even attempt to answer. All of his energy was exerted in using his arms and legs to cut through the water. Lindsey needed him and he would not let her down.