Black wind

sat hovering on the Odyssey’s helicopter pad.
    “We cannot fire upon them while they are positioned near the platform. They can do no harm at this late time. Perhaps they will stupidly burn in the launch themselves. Come, let us enjoy the liftoff. We will dispense with them later.”
    With Kim in tow, Tongju left the bridge and quickly made his way aft to the launch control center. The brightly lit bay was packed with white-coated engineers sitting at workstations arranged in a horseshoe shape around the room. On the front center wall was a large flat-panel video screen that showed a full image of the Zenit rocket at the launch tower, wisps of vapor emanating from its sides. Tongju spotted Ling hunched over a monitor conversing with a technician and approached the launch operations engineer.
    “Ling, what is the launch status?” Tongju asked.
    The round-faced engineer squinted at Tongju through his glasses.
    “The fueling will be complete in another two minutes. One of the backup flight control computers is not responding, there’s a low-pressure reading in one of the cooling lines, and the number two auxiliary turbo pump indicator shows a fluid leakage.”
    “What does that mean for the launch?” Tongju asked, a sudden flush rising over his normally placid face.
    “None of the items, either individually or collectively, are mission critical. All other systems are showing nominal. The launch will proceed as scheduled,” he said, eyeing a digital launch clock beneath the video panel, “in exactly twenty-three minutes and forty-seven seconds.”
    At twenty-three minutes and forty-six seconds, Jack Dahlgren looked up from the Odyssey’s ticking launch clock to the Icarus, which seemed to be fixed hovering above the pilothouse. He knew there was no chance that they could have been spotted by the high-flying gondola, but he still wondered if Pitt or Giordino might somehow find a way to stop the launch. He strained to turn toward Dirk beside him, expecting his friend to be looking at the blimp with hopeful optimism. Instead, Dirk was oblivious to the airship, his full attention focused on defiantly trying to break the bounds of his ropes. Jack started to offer some words of encouragement but his lips froze when he saw a movement inside the hangar. He blinked and took another hard look. Sure enough, he could see it was a man sprinting through the hangar directly toward them.
    “Dirk, there’s somebody coming our way. Is that who I think it is?”
    Dirk glanced toward the hangar while continuing to strain at his bound hands and feet. He squinted at the lone figure bursting out of the hangar and tearing across the platform carrying what looked like a long stick in his hand. The figure was tall and lean with dark hair and Dirk suddenly stopped struggling at the ropes when he recognized the gait.
    “I don’t ever recall seeing my father move that fast before,” he said to Dahlgren, a broad grin spreading across his face.
    As the head of NUMA drew closer, they could see that it was a fire ax, not a stick, that he toted in his right hand as he ran. Sprinting up to the tower, the elder Pitt smiled in relief at seeing that the two men were uninjured.
    “I thought I told you boys never to accept a ride with strangers,” he gasped, patting his son on the shoulder as he examined the rope restraints.
    “Sorry, Dad, but they offered us the moon and the stars,” Dirk grinned, then added, “Thanks for dropping by to get us.”
    “I’ve got a taxi waiting. Let’s just get out of here before they ignite this thing.”
    Eyeing the center of the rope, he took a full swing and laid the blade through the rope that secured Dirk’s elbows. With another swing, he cut the wrist binds, the blade of the ax ringing loudly as it cut through to the tower beam. As Dirk worked to untie his ankles, Pitt repeated his Paul Bunyan routine on Dahlgren’s ropes. The two men quickly scrambled to their feet as Pitt tossed the ax aside.
    “Dad, the Sea Launch platform team is locked up inside the hangar. We need to get them out.”
    Pitt nodded. “I thought I heard some banging around in there. Lead on.”
    Almost as one, the three men dashed back across the open platform at full speed, knowing that every second counted. As they ran, Dirk looked at the launch clock above his head. Just twenty-one minutes and thirty-six seconds remained before the platform would be engulfed in a blasting inferno. As if that wasn’t enough motivation