After Days - Chapter 11

The wind rushed and whipped through Berlin, pushing Zayn to the limit of his piloting skill just to keep himself and his crew from crashing into the sea as they broke through the cloud. The instruments and displays flashed and beep to try and prove that it was not safe here, ironically, every fibre of Zayn agreed. But this was fixed, he had to be here and he had to do this, if he didn’t the consequences would not be worth contemplating.

“Can you take her in?” Tessa asked through the small entrance to the cockpit, yelling into her headset over the sound of drumming rain. Straps held her tightly to her seat but she still had to steady herself on the railing above, the turbulence trying to throw her about.

“Not in this storm. We might just have to drop and call for an extraction when we’re done.” Zayn said as he tackled with the steering.

The thrusters mounted on the broad wings and tail of the Falcon heaved to try and keep the white craft steady, but with the unpredictable shifts in air pressure they weren’t of much use. The Falcon tumbled through the air as Zayn tried to figure out how best to get himself and his team onto the rig. He could see several options, each as hopeless as the next, but he had to act quickly before the storm outwitted him.

“Alright, here’s the plan.” His words grabbed the attention of his team through their helmets’ communications. “I’m going to head in as low as I can, at that point, everybody eject. This thing is going to go down hard so we lose the element of surprise. As soon as you touch down, make for the centre structure, from then on it’s a simple secure the package job. Got it?”

A dozen crackles of ‘understood’ confirmed as Zayn had already began his bumpy descent. Barely moving forward by a few yards, the turbulence amplified into a spine-crunching quake as the right wing broke away. An explosion at the wing’s socket tossed the Falcon into a spin as Tessa ripped free from the seat and threw herself into the cockpit, squeezing in next to Zayn.

She tried to focus through the twisting view of the narrow screen, looking for anything that could have hit them. All of the station’s defences were visibly online, but none were responsible for the damage. Then from the corner of her eye she glimpsed an unmistakable, metal hull poking through the clouds.

“A Hailbard?! How did we miss that?” Tessa screamed as the large cannon aiming at them prepared for a second shot.

“Change of plan!” Zayn planted his hand firmly against a flat, red bumper. The bay door of the craft detached, being sucked out into the storm. The soldiers took their cue, unstrapping their belts and diving out of the Falcon, keeping their bodies rigid to prevent the wind from twisting them.

“You too, Tes.”

“You’re coming with me.” She grabs a fist full of the suit at his chest, turning to drag him out the seat. His belt kept him pinned.

“Just go!” He snatched Tessa by the wrist and forced her out of the cockpit. She stumbled as the ride bounced her to her knees, but before she could argue, the Falcon spiralled – she wasn’t sure if it was Zayn or the wind – and tipped her out of the back.

* * *

Thomas gripped tightly onto the wheel of the Hailbard, adrenaline rushing though him. He had been left in charge in the General’s absence, he was not going to allow Halsey’s trust to be displaced. “Fire again!” He ordered through the microphone to the marksman manning the hull’s cannon.

In the few seconds since the last shot, he had already prepped and armed another round without a conscious thought, habit and muscle memory commanding him. With a sharp pull of the trigger, the long barrel beneath him rebounded, shaking his glass lookout.

The round ripped through the rain and split the Falcon in half, detonating into a blinding ball of green flames as splinters of metal dropped into the waves.

“Perfect shot.” Thomas grinned, but not into the microphone, feeding on the pride for himself, mentally rehearsing how he would relay the few moments in his report. Needless to say, it glorified him more than was just.

* * *

The shockwave from the explosion pushed into the back of Tessa’s fragile, outstretched wingsuit as she was blown off course, having to grab onto an aerial post to stop her fall. Momentum twirled her around the post until she came to a stop. Her shoulder was pulled and her exposed fingertips burned with the friction, but she was on the rig and she was alive. As she looked to the sparking, sinking wreckage of the Falcon, she knew she couldn’t say the same for Zayn.

“Ma’am, what do we do? He had the comms relay and we needed him for this mission.” A man reminded, one who was also looking into the sea.

“Don’t be such an arsehole.” She snapped. “You’ve still got me. Make yourself useful and find us a ride out of here.” Her eyes remained fixed on the spot where her the craft was swallowed, icy rain lashing against her soft skin. ‘You stupid bastard. Why didn’t you just come with me?’