Blink: Phantom (Book 3)

12

Amber wrenched the control stick of the gunship savagely to one side as Brock's shuttle exploded from the side of the building, weapons' fire spewing from its jaws, sending shattered chunks of masonry flying in all directions. The powerful engines roared and she felt herself getting pushed against the chair. Right now they had a small edge: the gunship was specifically designed for in-atmosphere combat. Its aerofoils carved for purchase in the humid skies of Detton-Mouré and they wheeled to the right out of the enemy's ship's path.

Her heightened reactions saved both their lives.

One of the other gunships wasn't so lucky. A long jet of ice-blue fire from the shuttle's nose-mounted cannon slammed into the unfortunate pilot's cockpit, ripping a ragged gash through the canopy in blood and fire. Secondary explosions bloomed from the impact point as the shot smashed through one of the elevator turbines, and a few seconds later the smoking wreckage plummeted down to crash in the city below.

She forced the image from her mind, frantically punching in adjustments to the thrust control and flinging the gunship into a violent u-turn. Even as they swung around to the rear of the enemy shuttle another Wyvern vanished in a blazing fireball as Brock's Gatling cannon punched a neat incision through its ammo cache.

"Stone me," Brannigan exclaimed. "This guy shoots like a damned computer!"

"He's been trained to kill people his whole life." Amber swallowed hard, even as she banked and gunned the engine in pursuit. She glanced nervously at her young companion. "Think you can do better?"

"Just give me a clean shot." The other operative gritted her teeth, her hands curling around the weapon controls with murderous intent.

Locking on to the rear of Brock's shuttle, Amber obliged. She keyed the Wyvern's engine up to its maximum level, angling the elevator turbines to increase their thrust, and they shot off in hot pursuit.

Strangely, rather than breaking straight for the open sky, the other ship stayed low, barely a hundred meters off the ground, and she seemed able to keep pace with him – for now at least. Amber wondered if Brock had taken a calculated gamble when he used his ship to ram a hole in the building. A normal shuttle would probably have smashed apart in such an attempt, and while Brock's heavily armoured craft had survived the impact, she doubted he could have done so without sustaining some kind of damage.

"Amber!" Darien's voice sounded in her ear. "What's your status?"

"He's airborne," she snapped back. "But we're on him. I think he damaged his shuttle breaking out of that loading bay. We're closing in."

She saw on the HUD that the remaining gunships of Olsen's flight had now swung into position behind them, but they lagged back, not reacting as quickly as she had to the danger. Right now it was up to her to keep Tannis Brock from shooting off into the atmosphere.

Easier said than done. The enemy craft, obviously aware of them, jerked and swerved in wild, unpredictable motions, blazing a trail towards the large inhabited structures of Detton-Mouré's capital city. It seemed that Brock's skill-set was not confined to killing, as he made it impossible for the gunships to fire without hitting the nearby structures.

"Crap," Brannigan muttered. "He's cutting too close. I can't risk a shot in the middle of those buildings."

Amber knew as much. The armour piercing rounds that the Wyvern fired would tear through windows and concrete with ease, along with any human beings unfortunate enough to be in their path. With an effective range of nearly a kilometre, if they missed their target the shots would hit something in such a densely packed urban area. Brock's shuttle hugged the walls of the concrete forest – he knew the game, and had been playing it longer than any of them.