James Katt's Arc

Chapter 2 of 7

The chase ended at the airfield fence. James and Telari left the car and crossed the last stretch on foot. Ahead, the THRUSH jet sat on the runway, sleek and silver, its insignia bright under the lights. The dossier was inside that plane. James was almost close enough to reach it. A shout broke the quiet. Muzzle flashes lit the perimeter. Bullets tore the dirt near James's boots. He dropped flat behind a fuel drum. Two THRUSH gunmen had spotted him. They fired in short bursts, pinning him in the open. The plane's engines whined to life. Every second cost him the dossier. "They've got the angle on you," Telari called. She crouched behind a low crate to his left. Her Beretta was already up. Years of working beside her had taught James her signals without words. She tapped two fingers against the crate, then pointed right. She would draw their fire. He would take the shot. "On three," James said. He counted down. Telari rose and fired twice, loud and fast. The gunmen turned toward her. The lead man swung his rifle her way. James recognized his hard face from the mission file. Moe. THRUSH's first gun, the one who never missed. But Moe missed now. Telari's shots forced him to duck, and James pushed up from the drum. He fired three rounds. Moe fell. The second gunman spun toward James and squeezed his trigger. Telari shot him first. He dropped beside Moe and did not move. Silence returned. Smoke drifted over the runway. James stayed low, breathing hard, waiting for more guns. None came. The perimeter was clear. "You good?" Telari asked. She came to his side, reloading as she moved. "Good," James said. He rose and looked at the plane. Then his stomach dropped. The jet was rolling. Its wheels turned faster on the runway. The gunfire had bought Thuldark the warning he needed. The engines roared to full power. James sprinted toward the moving plane. Telari ran beside him. The jet picked up speed. Its nose lifted from the ground. James pushed harder, but the runway ran out. The wheels left the tarmac. The plane climbed into the dark sky and shrank to a point of light. James stopped. He watched it go. His chest heaved. The two dead gunmen lay behind him. He had won the fight and lost the plane. The dossier was gone, higher and faster than any car could chase. Telari stopped beside him. "He didn't take that jet home," she said. "He took off too fast. He knew we were close." James stared at the fading light. "Then he's changing the plan." He turned toward the dead men and knelt beside Moe. In the gunman's jacket he found a folded slip of paper. A set of coordinates. Not the enemy border. Somewhere else. Wherever Thuldark had truly gone.