Breaking Sky(52)

“I am on the same frequency, you punk,” Sylph growled over the channel. Pegasus pulled up from a thick cloud and chased Phoenix across the horizon.

Sylph had about as much luck as Chase in getting Phoenix between the crosshairs. Tristan was as fast as ever and executed evasive maneuvers she hadn’t even heard of. What made matters worse—he knew how to engage missile lock while he seemed to be trying to escape. He got Chase twice by hitting the brakes and pulling an inverted loop to maneuver behind her.

Chase swore under her breath in a long string, but she also kind of loved it. Speed and a solid challenge were exactly what she needed to get her head back into trial preparation.

Pegasus reappeared without Phoenix. Sylph attempted to get a lock on Chase, but she pulled one of Tristan’s moves—inverting them long enough for Pippin to complain.

“Warn me next time,” he said. “All the blood is in my face.”

“What say we take out Sylph?” Chase asked, hoping a common enemy might bring them closer together. Pippin didn’t respond, but Sylph did.

“We’re taking turns, Nyx,” Sylph ordered over the radio. “Swapping defense and offense. Those are the rules you agreed to.”

“There won’t be any rules when we’re up against red drones,” Chase pointed out.

“Indeed,” Pippin said, and that tiny moment of accord blunted her thorny feelings inside.

Experimenting with more of Tristan’s moves, Chase went after Pegasus. By the time she’d achieved missile lock on Sylph four times, she was feeling much better. Chase fielded Sylph’s protest and agreed to let Pegasus attack in the next round.

Chase counted down. “One, two—”

“Three,” Tristan’s voice cut in.

Phoenix flashed by so fast that Chase took seconds to recover before blazing after him. Sylph vanished from her thoughts as she sped after Tristan. She caught him at Mach 3, streaking over the green glisten of the Great Salt Lake. His low laugh filled the shortwave.

The two jets spiraled together until Chase went light-headed. When they reached the thinnest layer of atmosphere, Phoenix and Dragon dove in tandem. Tristan broke left, and she swept under him, their metal bodies grazing. Chase couldn’t help wondering what it might feel like to get that close to Tristan without jets. Skin to skin.

Her body thrummed, so much so that she missed the first emergency beacon lighting up her controls. “What’s the problem, Pippin?”

“Emergency code from the Star. They’re paging in a satellite link.”

Chase held her finger over the switch. “But it could be a code virus trying to get control of the flight software.”

“Is it coming from the Star?” Tristan asked.

“Yes,” Pippin said. “Unless Ri Xiong Di has figured out how to reroute the signal.”

“But if it’s home base, and they’re bothering to reach out, this has got to be important.” Chase didn’t wait to deliberate. She flicked the link on, holding her breath and waiting for Dragon’s controls to be overridden.

Waiting.

Kale’s voice came instead. “Phoenix and Dragon, get to Pegasus!” He yelled so loudly that Chase’s ears hurt. “Get to Pegasus!”

“Where is she, Pip?”

“Balls of fire.” Pippin filled in the coordinates that came over the line. “Sylph’s too far west. Past the coast. She’s over the demarcation line.”

? ? ?

Chase and Tristan flew like a pair of bullets. They reached Mach 4, the world going blurry beneath them long before the silver flash of Pegasus appeared high in the sky.

A maroon dot caught Chase’s eye. It was too close to Sylph. Too close at every turn.

“Is that a—”

“Red drone.” Pippin’s voice cracked. Chase’s speed faltered as her arms shook, pulling back on the throttle.

“What’s she doing out here?” Pippin asked. “And how’d she pick up that tailer?”

“You mean, why hasn’t she lost it yet?” Romeo yelled in. “We’re supposed to be way faster than them.”

“Shut up,” Tristan snapped. “What are we doing, Nyx?” She tightened when he said her call sign, her whole body tuning in. He was deferring to her, asking for her lead, which was kind of shocking.

“Sylph’s too slow. She won’t be able to break away, and she won’t bring the drone over land.”

“She can’t,” Pippin said. “We don’t want that thing anywhere near civilians.”

“It’d be nice if these freakin’ missiles under our wings were more than ornamental,” Romeo said. “If that thing scans one of the Streakers…”

“Oh, God!” It was Riot, close enough to pipe through the shortwave feed. “Help us!”


“Sylph!” Chase cried out. “Say your state!”

“Low fuel.” Sylph gasped. “This thing has locked on me over and over. I keep shaking him, but I can’t outstrip him. I can’t even focus! Why is it so fast?!”

“Nyx.” Tristan’s voice was cool as glass. “What’s the plan?”

“Lead her home, Arrow. I’ll lose the drone.”

“I’m faster,” he argued.