Coldfire by Dean R. Koontz

control. The disabled craft’s maddening tendency to turn endlessly to

the right was now to be incorporated into a breathtakingly conceived

plan that would let it find its way into the barn like a stubborn bull

determined to resist the herder and follow its own route home. If the

radius of each turn was carefully calculated and matched to an equally

precise rate of descent, they might eventually be able to bring head-on

to a runway and all the way in.

Impact in five minutes.

Jim twitched in shock and almost spoke those four words aloud when they

came to him.

Instead, when the captain finished talking to the tower, Jim said, “Is

your landing gear operable?”

“We got it down and locked,” Delbaugh confirmed.

“Then we might make it.”

“We will make it,” Delbaugh said. “Unless there’s another surprise

waiting for us.”

“There is,” Jim said.

The captain glanced worriedly at him again. “What?”

Impact in four minutes “For one thing, there’ll be a sudden windshear as

you’re going in oblique to you, so it won’t drive you into the ground.

But the reflected updraft from it will give you a couple bad moments.

It’ll be like you’re flying over a washboard.”

“What’re you talking about?” Anilov demanded.

“When you’re making your final approach, a few hundred feet from the end

of the runway, you’ll still be at an angle,” Jim said, once more al

lowing some omniscient higher power to speak through him, “but you’ll

have to go for it anyway, no other choice.”

“How can you know that?” the flight engineer demanded.

Ignoring the question, Jim went on, and the words came in a rush: “The

plane’ll suddenly drop to the right, the wing’ll hit the ground, and

you’ll cartwheel down the runway, end over end, off it, into a field.

The whole damn plane’ll come apart and burn.”

The red-haired man in civilian clothes, operating the throttles, looked

back at Jim in disbelief “What crock of shit is this, who the hell do

you think you are?”

“He knew about engine number two before it blew up,” Delbaugh said

coolly.

Aware that they were entering the second of the trio of planned degree

turns and that time was swiftly running out, Jim said, “None of you in

the cockpit will die, but you’ll lose a hundred and forty-seven

passengers, plus four flight attendants.”

“Oh my God,” Delbaugh said softly.

“He can’t know this,” Anilov objected.

Impact in three minutes Delbaugh gave additional instructions to the

red-haired man, who manipulated the throttles. One engine grew louder,

the other softer, and the big craft began its second turn, shedding some

altitude as it went.

Jim said, “But there’s a warning, just before the plane tips to the

right.”

“What?” Delbaugh said, still unable to look at him, straining to get

what response he could from the wheel.

“You won’t recognize what it means, it’s a strange sound, like nothing

you’ve heard before, because it’s a structural failure in the wing

coupling, where it’s fixed to the fuselage. A sharp twang, like a giant

steel-guitar string. When you hear it, if you increase power to the

port engine immediately, compensating to the left, you’ll keep her from

cart-wheeling.”

Anilov had lost his patience. “This is nuts. Slay, I can’t think with

this guy here.”

Jim knew Anilov was right. Both System Aircraft Maintenance in San

Francisco and the dispatcher had been silent for a while, hesitant to

interfere with the crew’s concentration. If he stayed there, even

without saying another word, he might unintentionally distract them at a

crucial moment.

Besides, he sensed that there was nothing more of value that he would be

given to tell them.

He left the flight deck and moved as quickly as possible toward row

sixteen.

Impact in two minutes Holly kept watching for Jim Ironheart, hoping he

would rejoin them.

She wanted him nearby when the worst happened. She had not forgotten

the bizarre dream from last night, the monstrous creature that had

seemed to come out of her nightmare and into her motel room; neither had

she forgotten how many people he had killed in his quest to protect the

lives of the innocent, nor how savagely he slaughtered Norman Rink in

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