Dateline

New Year's Eve, 2155 local / T plus 16 hours, 55 minutes

Over California

Able was frustrated and becoming increasingly worried. Since his one short, aborted sat-phone call with his contact at Edward's, he had been unable to get through. Every time he tried he got a no-service tone. He'd tried his mobile once or twice too, but that also couldn't connect. Next to him in the pilot's seat, Cat was muttering to herself while she paged through various system diagnostics on the plane's flight management system. She was stabbing at the FMS keyboard in obvious frustration and annoyance.

"What's up?"

"We lost GPS for a while there. If that happens again we might have a problem. I can't see anything; I don't think the runway lights are on at Edwards. None of the navigation aids seem to be working either, and without them it will have to be a visual approach. Hard enough in daylight. Very dangerous in the dark, even with the runway lights on. Add to that I can't get any response from the tower and I have no airfield pressure reading, so I'm relying on GPS height to tell me how far above the ground we are."

"Okay. Anything I can do?"

"Keep looking out the window ahead. There's a bit of moonlight. The runway should show up against the desert sand."

Able sat forward and stared out ahead, eyes straining to make out any features on the faint desert plain below. Cat turned down all the instrument lights and dials to minimum settings, the cockpit becoming almost completely dark to help their night vision. He was startled when Cat called out, "Nearly there. Tell me the moment you see something." The plane took on a deeper rumble as Cat configured the plane for landing and lowered the undercarriage. 

"Read out the speed and height for me would you. Airspeed from that dial, height from this screen here." 

He did as he was told, reading out the figures every few seconds, glancing out the windows in between. "Four-fifty feet, one forty-five knots ... three-hundred feet, one forty-two knots ... two hundred feet ... one-fifty feet ... one hundred feet, on thirty-eight knots..."

"I have the runway..."

Able looked out the window but everything was just a dark blur, his eyes struggling to focus further than the glass. Then with a sudden shift in perception that made his head swim, he saw the runway flashing by beneath, the big 757 just feet away from touchdown. How the hell had Cat managed to see it? Then with a thump and shudder, the wheels made contact with the ground. 

Cat seemed to hesitate, just a heartbeat or two. Able heard her take a sharp intake of breath.

"Jesus!" Cat slammed the throttles forward and the engines picked up to a scream. Able stared out the window, just as the landing lights picked out shining bits of debris spread across the runway. Larger parts, some pieces as big as a car, were littered across the runway. There was a disconcerting bang as something hit the undercarriage, and the plane began to snake from side to side.

"Come on baby, get your ass off the ground!" Even in the dark, Able could see that Cat was grimacing. He caught sight of his own reflection in the cockpit window and saw an expression of stupid surprise on his face. As the plane lifted off the runway, they glimpsed the wreckage of something large just off to one side, thankfully just out of the way enough to miss the 757's wingtip.

"Let's try that again, shall we? Only this time, lets use the other runway." Cat was grinning now. She really seemed to be enjoying this. Crazy lady, thought Able. But I like her style.

The next time round, things went better. For a start, their aborted landing seemed to have got someone on the ground stirred up. The end of the clear runway was marked by two cars with headlight beams crossed. Cat had got her eye in now, and her approach was better. When the wheels touched, a couple of tires, damaged from the first landing attempt, burst and sent debris rattling off the air frame. Cat skilfully kept the plane under control, keeping it on the centre line despite the flat tires making it weave and crab before it came to a stop.

"No moving it from here with all that damage."

Able looked at his watch, saw that is was almost midnight. His heart rate skyrocketed, then he remembered that it was still set to eastern standard time. They had a couple of hours before it happened where they were now. Would that be enough time?

"Hey Cat. How long does it take to clear a runway of debris like we just saw?"

"Depends. With a full crew available, maybe an hour. More if there isn't anyone here. Why?"

"Because we're gonna that other runway clear. It's the only one with enough length."

Cat looked thoughtful. She didn't ask Able to explain, for which he was thankful. Just said, "In that case, we need to get out now and hot foot it to the plant store." Cat pressed a switch that allowed her to speak over the cabin tannoy. "This is your captain. We need to evacuate right now. Cabin crew, forward exit please." 

Cat was shutting down the engines as she spoke. A moment later, there was the sound of the escape ramp inflating. They made their way to the cabin and down the ramp where the others were gathered, watching the lights of an approaching jeep. When it stopped, Able was relieved to see Mike Pompey, the big Delta Force commander who Able had got to know through his military contacts. Sometimes, thought Able, you make your own luck.

"Hey Able. Been expecting ya'll for like, two hours." Mike was eyeing the American Airlines 757. "What happened to the Lear Jet?"

"Some trouble at LaGuardia. Had to fly commercial. Look, are we good to go?"

"Yeah, about that. Might be a problem."

"The crashed plane on the runway? We saw that. From really close up."

"That's the least of our worries."

Able felt a cold grip settle on his stomach. "Tell me."

"Well, put it this way. There was a fight over who got to take your girl out tonight." Mike looked apologetically at Able and the others. "'Fraid she got in the way of bullet or  two."