23
Flight of the T47s
That night when they returned to their barracks from dinner, Peter felt a tension in the air that he hadn't felt before. He couldn't put a finger on what it was exactly, but it seemed like everyone's eyes were on him. He tried to shake it off, thinking he was just nervous due to the fact that they were about to hijack three T47 fighters from the TGA, but the feeling grew stronger and stronger as the night progressed.
Just moments before the night bell was due to sound, Peter felt a tap on his shoulder. He whirled around and found himself face to face with Evohn Cystrom, the candidate who he'd suspected of probing his mind and whom he feared was one of Videl's agents. His heart rate quickened. Was he looking into the eyes of another assassin?
"What?" Peter said trying to seem irritated rather than scared.
"I know who you are and what you're going to do tomorrow."
Peter swallowed hard. He had probed his mind as Peter had suspected, but how much did he actually know? Peter didn't think he could have learned all that much in the few seconds he'd been in Peter's mind. Was he bluffing? In one of their classes they'd learned a common interrogation technique—to act like you knew something in hopes the suspect would acknowledge it. Peter wasn't going to fall for that trap.
"So who am I?" Peter asked.
"You're the Liberator," Evohn said firmly.
Peter looked around to make sure nobody was listening. "What in the hell is the Liberator?"
"Amongst the Earthchildren will come a humble man, pure in heart, and steadfast in his belief in liberty and justice. He will rid Tarizon of corruption, restore faith in the Supreme Mandate, and liberate the Mutants, Seafolken, and the Nanomites forever."
Peter's face became rigid. "I'm from Queenland—you know—the Underland," he said firmly.
Evohn ignored his protest and continued, "Once you and your friends take off tomorrow, you won't be returning to base. You'll be flying south."
"You're nuts. Who told you this garbage?" Peter protested.
"You must know I'm telepathic. I sensed you were too."
Peter nodded slightly. "A little, perhaps. I didn't realize it until recently."
"Don't worry. I mean you and your friends no harm. I just want to come with you. I know you're going to join the Loyalist forces against Videl. I want to go with you. Some of my friends want to come as well. I've been told the Loyalist base is in the Beet Islands."
Peter shrugged. "I wouldn't know," Peter said wondering if he could trust Evohn."How many people have you told about these alleged plans?"
"Seven including myself. We were careful only to tell those who were loyal to the Chancellor and believed in the Supreme Mandate."
"So, why come to me? Go ahead and fly to the Beet Islands on your own. It's none of my business."
"It's not that easy. You have connections. You know how to find the base. If we have to search for it, we may not find it before we run out of fuel. As you are aware, once we vary from our flight plan, there will be no turning back."
"How do I know you're not an agent of Videl? If I did know how to find the Loyalist base and told you, he'd send a force there to destroy it."
"I detest Videl. I'd piss on him if I found him dying in the street. He killed my father."
"He did? When?"
"When he was commandant at Pegaport. My father was a recruit and died during his first week of training. Videl claimed my father had an undiagnosed heart condition and died of a heart attack during a combat exercise, but I know my father was in perfect health. When they refused to ship the body to my mother, I knew they were hiding something."
Peter nodded. It could still be a ruse, but he felt Evohn was being sincere. "Perhaps they tortured him for not living up to their expectations. I've heard some pretty horrible stories about Pegaport."
"So, can we join you?"
"How well do you know your friends? Would you trust them with your life?"
"Yes, I know them well. They are all loyal to the Supreme Mandate and anxious to join the Loyalist forces. I will vouch for them."
"Well, I know of no Liberator or plans to steal T47s for the Loyalists, but it's been an interesting conversation that I will share with my friends. I'm sure they will have a good laugh."
Evohn raised his eyebrows. "I won't laugh until Videl is in his grave."
It was late in the game to be altering their plans, but Peter thought seven more planes for the loyalist cause was a good reason to consider it. After the final alarm sounded the lights were still on, so Peter managed to run the idea by Sy and Red. They were pleased that others wanted to join their cause, but were reluctant to let them in on their plans without checking them out thoroughly. Unfortunately, they didn't have time to even find out which candidates wanted to join them, let alone have time to get to know them. They finally agreed it would be a gamble, but since they already knew about their plans, what choice did they really have? They either agreed to let them come along or abort the escape. If they aborted their escape plan, they might never get another opportunity to join the Loyalist forces.
The next morning Peter asked Sgt. Baig if he knew anything about Evohn Cystrom. He indicated he had considered him a suspect in the attempt to assassinate Peter and had him checked out. It turned out he was clean and his story about his father checked out. That made Peter feel better, so when he bumped into Evohn at the nutrition center, he told him his friends and he were welcome to join the defection, but that he wouldn't tell him the coordinates for the loyalist base until they were in the air and on their way.
He also didn't plan to tell them about their extraction mission to Muhl. They didn't need to know about that. As a further precaution, Sgt. Baig said he would be sure the planes the seven candidates flew would have minimal armaments in case their real objective was to find the loyalist base and destroy it. Despite all of these precautions, as the time of their departure drew closer, Peter grew fearful something would go wrong. If Evohn had so easily discovered their plans, one of Videl's agents might have done so too. Then Peter realized if they even had an inkling of what he and his friends were about to do, they would have arrested them by now. With this realization, his confidence returned and he was ready for the mission to begin.
After lunch all the candidates assembled in the hanger to prepare for flight training. Their instructor pointed to a life-sized manikin dressed in a flight suit and began to explain all of the equipment they would be wearing. "From top to bottom you have a helmet, mask, survival vest, flotation device, harness, gloves, g-suit, liner suit, and boots. Just above your boots you have a pocket for maps. This suit has been carefully engineered to protect you during flight or in the event of a forced ejection. As you've learned, during flight you will be subjected to temperature extremes, pressure variations, and g-forces that the naked body cannot withstand. It's critically important to suit up properly before every flight to avoid death or serious injury during flight. Everyone has been issued a flight suit, so lets put them on now."
It took them nearly thirty loons to suit up in their cumbersome flight gear. When they had finished, they were escorted out to their fighters. Seeing the big T47 for the first time, gave Peter goose bumps. It was a little scary climbing aboard but once he'd settled into the cockpit he felt at home. It was exactly like the simulator where all of them had spent many hours and become very proficient. Now it was time to put their training to the test.
Engines all around Peter began to roar. After checking all his gauges and inputting the required information into the onboard computer, he pushed the ignition button and his fighter came to life. Soon he was among a long line of fighters taxiing out to the runway.
Since their training flights were the only activity planned for the day, the tower gave them immediate clearance for takeoff. As Peter turned the T47into position, he gave it full throttle and the big fighter roared down the runway and into the air. The surge of power was exhilarating beyond anything he'd ever experienced. Soon Peter was fl
ying in formation high above the base along their predetermined flight plan. The instructors were communicating with them from the ground and monitoring every move. They had agreed to break the flight plan at the farthest point from the base. This was to occur about twelve loons into their flight. When the moment came Peter said, "Five tiks to course variation."
A voice came over his radio and asked, "What course variation? Explain yourself, candidate."
Ignoring this instructor, Peter said, "Change now to alternate communication channels. Four, three, two, mark."
“What course variation!” an angry voice said over the radio.
The voice went silent when Peter switched channels. They were headed north over Pogo Island flying back toward the base, when they suddenly banked sharp to the left, swung out over the Coral Sea, and did a complete one hundred and eighty degree turn. Since they had broken off communications and gone off their flight plan, the tower and their instructors would know something was wrong. There were eleven other candidates in the air that could have given them chase, but this was their first flight so it was unlikely they'd be sent to pursue them. As a precaution against any of them trying to be a hero, Sgt. Baig had made sure they had only enough fuel aboard to do their flight training.
It was possible the tower would scramble some fighters to go after them, but by the time they got in the air they'd be long gone. At mach-8 in a stealth aircraft it would be nearly impossible to find them after getting a ten minute head start. What Peter wasn't counting on, however, were the Muscan missiles that came screaming after them. They had learned about them in class. They were heat-seeking missiles that would relentlessly pursue a target until it was destroyed.
"Three missiles on the radar closing fast," Red barked. "Taking evasive action."
This scenario wasn't new to them. Peter had practiced it a hundred times in simulation. Unfortunately, all he could think about were the many times he'd been blown up by some careless misstep. Now if he wasn't perfect in his evasive maneuvers, his life would be over and the hopes and dreams of freedom for the Mutants, Seafolken, and the Nanomites would go down in a fiery ball of flames.
Peter pushed a green button on the T47's control panel and a dozen hot metal decoys were ejected from a discharge shoot at the rear of the fighter. Then he banked hard left distancing himself from the decoys. There was an explosion from behind that rocked the plane, then another and another. He pressed his com button and said, "Everyone in one piece?"
There was a tense moment of silence and then Red replied, "Renegade 2 alive and well."
A moment later Sy checked in, "Renegade 3 still in one piece."
"Renegade 8's been hit!" Evohn screamed. "His plane has exploded. Oh, Sandee. No!"
Peter banked right and could see a ball of fire plummeting toward the ground. He cringed at the sight. The poor kid. Oh, God what a way to die. "Anything else coming at us?"
"No, we're out of range,"Sy replied.
After a few moments, Peter regained his composure and put the fighter back on course. Soon they were on their way toward Muhl and the Beet Islands. As they approached Muhl, Peter radioed Evohn and gave him the coordinates for the Loyalist base. Then he said, "You head on to the islands, we've got a little errand to run before we join you."
"Can't we help out?" Evohn asked.
"No, we don't want to look like an invasion force. Three of us are enough for this mission. You all head on to the base. They'll be expecting you."
"Confirmed. Good luck," Evohn said.