Breaking Sky(15)

Wheezing air filled the sudden silence.

“All right back there?”

Pippin groaned. “I think I just lost forty IQ points.”

“You have enough to spare.” A bit of the insane red was leaving her vision. She might really be on the Down List after this stunt, but she didn’t regret it. “I had to,” she said before Pippin could ask.

“Yeah, well.” He sounded more resigned than angry. “You always do.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Team Nyx,” he said, and she felt his honesty like an embrace. “Maybe you’ll finally get me sent home this time.”

“Knock it off.” Nothing got under her skin faster than when Pippin joked about wanting to leave the Star. “You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not.”

“If you tell me you’re in love with me, I’ll have to point out that you don’t know me.” Pippin’s line had all the appearance of a joke without the tone. Chase made a note to mull that one over later. For now, she scanned the sky for their rescuer.

She didn’t have to wait long.





8


    BOARDS OUT


   Speed Brakes Extended


A jet screeched overhead.

Phoenix looped into the canyon, the right wing a little higher than the left. The pilot set down like Chase often did, hard and tight and not like Sylph. There was nothing careful or overly rehearsed in his maneuvers, almost like he was making it up as he went.

She burned to know what else they had in common, and she had to hold herself back from flipping the canopy open and jumping out to greet him. Instead, she played dead and ordered Pippin to do the same.

Phoenix taxied over. The third Streaker was identical to the other two, except it didn’t bear any standard markings. No Air Force symbol. Not even the Navy’s—which she had prayed it wouldn’t. Nothing worse than dealing with the TOPGUN know-it-alls. But then, where did the Streaker come from? Why all the mystery and hush-hush?

The bird’s nose turned just to the right of Dragon’s, sidling them cockpit to cockpit.

And there he was: Mr. Red Helmet.

Only a few feet away.

He could have been anyone behind his mask and visor. A robotic lizard, Pippin had suggested, but Chase didn’t see a tail. What she saw was a large, gloved hand pressed to his canopy as he peered close. She saw shoulders like Kale’s and arms that made Riot’s look like pencils.

“I owe you five bucks,” Pippin said. “Looks like a boy to me. The RIO too.”

“I want to meet them,” Chase said.

“And how do you propose—”

“Easy. Let’s follow them home.” Chase unsnapped her mask and showed Phoenix’s team a wide smile. “Got you,” she mouthed.

The pilot’s head panic-swung left and right before he launched Phoenix into the air. Chase shot after them, mangling the takeoff on her popped tires.

“Bad idea, Chase! Way worse than your first one.” If Pippin had given up on her call sign, he really was desperate, but she was so far beyond coming down. She smelled a challenge, and she wasn’t wrong. Phoenix should have been long gone by the time Dragon hit the sky, but she found him right away.

He was waiting for her.

Dragon slid under Phoenix as they left the canyon behind. Flying low, way too low, they clipped across the barren desert—right before the other pilot punched the throttle with such ferocity that she screamed when she mimicked his move. She left her old speed record way behind while they raced wildly. Chase’s body was all pressure and heat, but her mind danced, delighted.

Phoenix wasn’t trying to escape. She felt like he was playing, flirting, and she found herself teasing him right back. Before the spotted green edge of the Gulf of Mexico, he stole the lead, and she executed a double cross so close that Pippin whooped with joy or terror—or more likely both.

When the bingo fuel alarm went off, Chase overrode it and kept after Phoenix. He was heading northeast, the same direction he had escaped during their last flight.

“Nyx, no gas for this,” Pippin said.

“Yeah, but double or nothing says he knows where there’s a gas station close by.” She could feel Dragon’s limits. They were going much slower now but still too fast, still burning through their limited fuel. And yet she couldn’t disengage. Where was he going? What did he look like? And why did she so desperately need to see him?

The right engine went out.

Dragon’s wings shook as Phoenix crossed the Hudson Bay and set down on a hiccup of an island.

“Wait.” Pippin’s voice trembled. “This is bad, Nyx! Turn around! Turn around while you still have altitude!”

“I can’t.” Her voice was cool, but her mind was blazing. “I’m going to land behind him. He’s a friendly, remember?”

Pippin didn’t buy her forced calm. “This is bad, bad, bad. That’s not U.S. soil. Remember the Declaration of No Assistance?”

She did. Shit.

Too late.

The left engine flickered and died. She managed a fast coast of a landing, skidding sideways on popped tires while metal squealed against the pavement.

Boards out.

? ? ?

Dragon shook when it finally stopped, and Chase noticed the runway for the first time: military green.