Free Dragon Airways by Brian Rathbone Page B

Agger continued to move back and forth in front of her, making the urge to shoot almost irresistible. Then, beyond him, the fleet materialized. He was lining himself up to land on the carrier Terhilian. That left one other carrier with a clear deck—the carrier Arghast —Admiral Meekam's flagship. This ship was farther out, and she cursed Agger for not allowing her and Grunt to land on the closer carrier. He knew she would have burned more fuel because of the extra weight, and he also knew how much Admiral Meekam detested her. Knowing he did it on purpose, she considered shooting him down. It would be a difficult thing to explain away. She could almost feel Grunt gripping the seat behind her. He would probably have been grinning, knowing what Agger had done, but it also put his own life at risk. Agger might not realize just how close he was to losing the only ally he had. Argus frequently paired the two men up due to complementary skill sets. Grunt was not a man she wanted as an enemy.
    Looking to her left, Casta pondered the yellow lever, which would blow the hatch. All pilots were required to hand assemble an entire plane before gaining flight clearance, and she knew every inch of this jet. The red handle would eject both seats. She'd hoped never to use either lever, but she also knew she could disconnect the charge beneath her own seat first. If she pulled the red lever without first pulling the yellow, Grunt wouldn't live to tell anyone anything. Slowly she reached down.
    "Don't even think about it," Grunt said.
    Cold steel on her neck made Casta freeze. "Just getting ready to land this thing," she said. "Agger put us at a disadvantage. We could run out of fuel at any moment. I can feel how light we are."
    Grunt said nothing. His gun barrel remained where it was. At such close range, air rifles could be deadly. No matter how large the carriers were, they now seemed small. Twice before on this trip, Casta had landed her U-jet at sea to refuel; both times had been terrifying. Now she was lower on fuel than either time before. She could not afford a single wave off and would get only one chance at this. Towering waves tossed the ships, and a chill wind blew. The landing strip did not simply bob up and down on the waves; it pitched and rolled.
    The jet engine's tone changed; fuel was about to run out. Grunt screamed as they dipped lower.
    "We might have to ditch," she said through gritted teeth.
    Grunt stopped screaming long enough to say, "Don't you dare."
    Casta was torn. The pitching deck drew closer, but the U-jet continued to lose altitude. The deck crew waved her off. Too fast. Too low. The crew fled the deck, seeing Casta maintain course. Just before the U-jet struck the deck at an odd angle, Casta pulled back hard on the stick. The nose climbed until she could no longer see the ship at all. She and Grunt stared into the late-afternoon skies until the plane's tail struck the deck, slamming them down with concussive force.
    Bouncing and skidding, Casta watched the catch rope approach and slip past without slowing them as it should have. Perhaps the only thing to save them was hitting the deck at an angle and getting turned toward the ship's support structures. Still moving at high speed and her engine fluttering, the U-jet slammed into the aft deckhouse. Fire erupted and Casta struggled to get her belts loosened. Grunt made not a sound behind her. Unbearable heat assaulted Casta. Yanking the yellow lever with one hand to blow the hatch, she unbuckled with the other. She barely heard the charge blow.
    Grunt surprised her by making it out of the cockpit first. Grabbing Casta by the shoulder, he pulled her from the wreckage. Perhaps she would have made it out on her own, but she couldn't deny that he'd helped her. She was ashamed to realize she wouldn't have done the same for him.
    "That's for keeping us out of the water," Grunt said. "Agger is going to have to eat soft foods for a while when I'm done with him." It was