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Rated: E · Fiction · Action/Adventure · #688117
Part of a story. Pursued, Mikhail and Irina steal a Cessna 206.
Irina followed Mikhail closely as they ran down nondescript corridors that twisted and turned. He did not know if they had eluded their pursuers but knew they were far from safe. He stopped before a pair of double doors.

Panting lightly, he noticed the odor of chlorine and other cleaning solutions leaking through the clearance between doors and floor. Irina waited for his decision, hands on the knobs. His debate with himself ended when faint echoes of footsteps reached him. She looked at Mikhail, nodded then slowly opened the door.

The sleek one hundred-fifty meter spacecraft, a Draconian flagship in pristine condition three years after the war, dwarfed the airplane. Irina ran toward the smaller vessel. To Mikhail, it looked like an eight-meter long metal catfish with ten-meter wings stuck on its back a meter aft its nose. She opened the left door and smiled at him, key dangling in her hand.

Flaps ground metallically down. Mikhail went around the thing wondering if it was airworthy. A sign declared - Cessna U206F 1973. Though his demeanor revealed no flicker of emotion, something akin to horror filled him. He stared at the young woman going through a checklist. She was on her belly atop the right wing, legs dangling a meter off the ground looking at a stick she had put into some opening. How could she be smiling when she was about to take flight in an aircraft two centuries old!

"We have the key, a working battery, and if the other tank is just as full, we'll have around six hours of fuel," Irina informed him as she dropped down. She ran her hands around the spinner and propeller edges.

After her pre-flight, she snapped him out of his reverie. "Help me push. There should be an exit around here somewhere." The Cessna slowly inched forward as she coaxed it with brute force. Mikhail followed her lead and took his place, hands on the right strut that ran from the bottom of the fuselage to mid-wing. As they reached a wall, it swung up high enough to let the airplane through.

The planet's dual suns rose over a range of mountains in the east bathing the airstrip in soft reds and yellows. Irina took little notice as she directed the aircraft at a parallel to the building. Mikhail straightened and looked around. There were no other artificial structures around. Other than the paved movement area he was standing on and one thousand meters of runway, there were trees, trees, and more trees as far as the eye could see.

"Sir, I think it would be better for you to stay back while I start the engine." Irina said.

Mikhail looked squarely at her. "I will not leave you to face the unknown alone."

She sighed. "Being practical, sir. You can't start her up. And I don't know how or where to contact whomever." Irina got into the seat and buckled on the seatbelt and shoulder harness. "Besides, there shouldn't be a problem. She's in excellent condition."

Against his better judgment, Mikhail walked a distance from the aircraft, mentally shaking his head. He watched through the back window. Irina's head bobbed from side to side and disappeared a few times. He saw the red strobe light begin to flash on the aircraft. A steady green light went on the left wing tip and a red one on the right. "Clear prop!" her disembodied voice reached him before both doors swung shut as the engine caught. Mikhail turned away as heat from the exhaust and loose gravel picked up by the turning propeller assailed him. He squinted and looked back. Irina signed for him to get in.

Mikhail caught a movement. Three men rounded the corner of the building. He broke into a run as weapons came into sight. He swung into his seat. "Go!" he shouted over the whine of the engine. Irina pointed at his seatbelt and saw the pursuers. She pushed a black knob, the leftmost of three on the lower central part of the instrument panel. He heard the increase in rpm and the aircraft began moving. He looked behind. Someone took aim and Mikhail saw flashes as several shots were fired.

The high-wing made its way from ramp to runway. Irina brought the knob all the way to full power, pushing Mikhail into the seat as the aircraft accelerated. He struggled to put the seatbelt and harness on. After what he thought was an inordinately long time, Irina pulled on the yoke. The 206 leapt into the air, into the early morning light.

Neither spoke. Irina busied herself with checklist, instruments, levers and switches. The aircraft steadily gained altitude. They leveled off at seven thousand five hundred feet according to the altimeter.

The constant drone was making him sleepy and he eventually nodded off. Irina saw his eyes close and breathing deepen before she dared lick away the salty taste of sweat that had dried on her lips. She returned to the job of keeping the plane in the air.

He was unsure how long he had been out but Mikhail knew something was wrong the moment he opened his eyes. After the continuous roar of the engine, the sudden silence was deafening. He could taste bile working itself up his throat as he looked with dread at the propeller. It turned one last time and seized. He shut his eyes tight, counted to five, opened them and found himself staring out the window at the blue stain left by fuel that had leaked out a hole under the right wing. Below him stretched a forest that disappeared into the horizon. He watched Irina pull the rightmost of the knobs on the panel, reach down to turn a lever on the floor, and calmly turn off all but one of the switches while scanning outside the aircraft. She tapped the window on her side with a finger then signaled down with her thumb. She banked the high-wing.

The break in the trees was about five miles away. The sweet, clean scent of evergreens filled the cabin as they glided toward the clearing. Would Irina bring the airplane down in one piece? He took a deep breath, cleared his head and silently prepared plan B.

The landing area opened up before Mikhail as the aircraft lost altitude. His sigh of relief lodged in his throat when the clearing suddenly disappeared behind a canopy of trees. Knuckles white, his hand clutched the hand rest. Irina pushed a lever on the panel one notch down. He heard the sound of flaps extending. The airplane jerked up. His free hand grabbed Irina's right shoulder as he prepared a space transfer. Before his thoughts coalesced he felt his stomach drop as the 206 sailed over the top of the trees, the change in wing configuration providing the extra lift to hurdle the obstacle. He removed his hand from the shoulder and glanced at her. She seemed not to have noticed anything but the task at hand. She pushed the flap lever to its last notch, narrowed eyes switching between instruments and windshield. The ground rushed closer. She pulled back on the yoke smoothly bringing the wings level and past as the nose pitched up. A warning horn blared just as the main landing gears touched down, nose wheel following lightly a heartbeat later.

Irina immediately raised the flaps the high-wing settling firmly on the uneven ground. They barreled down the grassy stretch, slowing perceptively as she worked on rudders and brakes with her feet. They were making a beeline for the bushes and tree trunks at the far end. Mikhail silently swore that they had survived the treetops to end up a fireball on the ground.

Suddenly, the scene spun wildly as the aircraft swung left. The centrifugal force pinned Mikhail. The right wingtip dipped and flashed less than a meter away from the solid mass of trunks. Before he could catch his breath the airplane righted and stopped. While it still rocked, Irina turned off the master switch and made final checks.

Mikhail wiped sweat from his brow with a hand. He exited and checked the breach in the wing. "The hole goes all the way through. We are lucky they were using bullets instead of power weapons."

There was no response. Worried, he strode quickly to Irina's side and opened the door. He found her pale, staring sightlessly into space.

"Ms. Dark?" Her hand was cold and clammy when he took it from her lap. "Irina!"

Her eyes focused. She looked at Mikhail, a brilliant smile on her face. "I've never done that before. That was actually fun. Want to do it again?"

Oh no, he did not want to do THAT again. Ever. It must have shown on his face because she burst out laughing. "Just kidding. Neither do I."

He grinned and helped her out of the aircraft.
© Copyright 2003 PJ Karina (pjkarina at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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