critical.
It wasn’t easy. Without the electronic controls the throttles were
sluggish and the engines unresponsive. Gilligan was like a man trying to
take a shower when the hot water is boiling and the cold water is
freezing. It’s painful and it takes a lot of fiddling to get things right.
Gilligan was fiddling furiously.
Gilligan looked up and saw the windshield was opaque with dew. The
windshield wipers had quit working along with everything else. He also saw
by the ball indicator that the plane was banking right and descending.
Instinctively he corrected and put the throttles forward to add power and
get away from the water. The engines seemed to hesitate and then they
caught with a burst of acceleration that pressed Gilligan back into his
seat.
It almost worked. In fact it would have worked if Gilligan hadn’t
forgotten one other automatic system. When the power came on, the Eagle’s
nose came up. Too far up. The Boundary Layer Control System that is
supposed to keep the F-15 from stalling at high angles of attack was also
dead. The nose went up and then back down as the Eagle stalled and
plummeted toward the ocean.
Senior Lieutenant Abrin had lost contact with his base and the rest of his
flight, but his radar seemed to be working perfectly. He watched on the
screen as the Americans performed the highly unusual maneuver of splitting
up and one of them turned back. Then he saw the other plane make a pass at
something and then disappear from the screen.
That was enough. He quickly turned his plane in that direction to see what
had happened.
Patrol Two broke out of the clouds almost in the water. Frantically the
rider signaled the beast to climb for everything he was worth. The dragon
extended its huge wings fully and beat the air desperately to keep from
smashing into the sea. Spray drenched dragon and rider alike, but somehow
they avoided the ocean.
The dragon beat its wings strongly to climb away from the water and
suddenly roared in pain.
Fortuna! Patrol Two thought. Somewhere in the last minute’s violent
maneuvering the dragon had injured himself. The rider touched the
communications crystal worn on a neck thong, but the bit of stone remained
cold and dead.
Gilligan reached for the yellow-and-black handle next to his right leg. I
hope to Christ this still works, he thought as he pulled the ejection
lever.
The ejection seat was designed as a fail safe, electronics or no. The
canopy blew off and Gilligan was blasted into the air scant feet above the
water.
There was a whirling rush and then Gilligan was kicked free of the
ejection seat. Suddenly he was dangling under his parachute, floating down
in a clammy fog to the water he knew had to be below him.
Below and off to one side he saw a tiny splash as his ejection seat
hurtled into the Bering Sea. Then the fog closed in around him and all he
could see was cottony grayness.
Gilligan cursed luridly. In the personal effects compartment of his
ejection seat was his map case and in that map case were several letters
he had intended to mail-including the alimony check to his ex-wife which
was already a week overdue.
Sandi’s lawyer is going to kill me! he thought as he floated soundlessly
through the fog for an unknown destination.
Patrol Two was in no better shape. The dragon was favoring its right wing
in a way the rider knew meant the beast would not be able to bear them up
much longer.
Pox rot this place! Patrol Two swore silently and then concentrated on
trying to remember the way to the nearest land. It was a terrible place to
set down, but from the way the dragon’s chest muscles tightened with each
wing beat Patrol Two realized they would be doing well to make it at all.
Lieutenant Smith hadn’t seen Major Gilligan go in, nor had he heard the
distress cry from the F-15s transponder. But the major was supposed to
make a quick pass and come back to join him. As the minutes ticked by, the