Black wind

from the pilothouse window. Like a contestant running a timed obstacle course, Pitt ran, jumped, and hurdled his way across the platform to the corner column support and sprinted down the steps to the water’s edge. In their haste to evacuate the platform, Tongju and his men had not thought it necessary to let adrift the NUMA sub. Pitt was thankful to find her still tied to the column steps as he exhaustedly reached the water’s edge.
    Untying the line, he jumped aboard and scrambled down the Badger’s top hatch, sealing it closed behind him. In seconds, he had activated the submersible’s power systems and opened the ballast tank for submersion. Engaging the throttles, he quickly maneuvered away from the Odyssey’s forward column and proceeded down the interior length of the platform before positioning the submersible for the task at hand. Holding the submersible steady, Pitt activated the controls to the bow-mounted coring device and, with just minutes to spare, prayed that his cockamamie plan would work.
    The Korean launch team aboard the Koguryo watched the video screen with curiosity as the silver blimp touched down on the Odyssey’s helipad and the crew of the platform jammed into the gondola. Kim grimaced with anger but noted that Tongju remained calm.
    “We should have killed the crew and destroyed that airship when we had the opportunity,” Kim hissed as they watched the Icarus lurch off the platform. An alternate camera was turned toward the blimp, showing the airship fight for altitude before turning out to sea. Tongju nodded toward the video image with assurance.
    “She is overloaded and unable to make speed. We shall easily catch and destroy her after the launch,” he said quietly to Kim.
    His eyes returned to the launch countdown and the noisy jabber of the engineers within the control center. The room was a flurry of activity and pressure as the final minutes drew to a close. Ling stood
    nearby, reviewing the output from a series of launch vehicle assessments. Beads of sweat rolled from his forehead in tense anticipation despite the cool temperature of the air-conditioned bay.
    For Ling, there was every reason to be nervous. In the world of space vehicle delivery, there was an astounding rate of mortality. He knew all too well that roughly one in ten satellite launches ended in failure, and that the fault could come from a thousand and one sources. Failure of the rocket at launch was still not an uncommon occurrence, though most satellite losses were due to deploying the payload in an incorrect orbit. The short, suborbital flight of the mission at hand eliminated a great deal of the problematic issues associated with most rocket flights, but the risk of a catastrophic launch failure never went away.
    Ling breathed easier as he digested the latest status updates. All critical systems appeared operational. There was nothing to indicate that the trustworthy Zenit rocket would not fire off in its usual dependable manner. With less than five minutes to go, he turned to Tongju and spoke with a glimmer of confidence.
    “There will be no launch holds. The countdown will proceed unimpeded.”
    Their attention turned to the image of the rocket on the video screen in its last minutes before takeoff. Despite the multitude of studious eyes converged on the image of the rocket and platform, no one in the room noticed the tiny movement at the periphery of the picture. Only the camera saw as a dark-haired man ran to the edge of the platform and scrambled out of sight down the corner column stairwell.
    Pitt had wasted no time in engaging the full set of thrusters that powered the Badger. Though he knew it was the worst possible place to be, he quickly guided the submersible down the underbelly length
    of the platform and maneuvered the vehicle to a stop alongside the rear starboard support column. Directly above him was the recessed launchpad flame deflector, which would route the titanic blast of the Zenit’s thrust toward the sea at liftoff.
    Pitt turned the nose of the submersible until it was aimed at the column, then backed away from the rotund support leg as he submerged the vessel to a depth of fifteen feet. Using a set of manipulator controls, he lowered the huge coring probe until it stretched perfectly horizontal in front of the submarine’s prow, protruding like a medieval jousting lance. Pitt braced his feet against the metal deck plate and muttered, “Okay, Badger, let’s see your bite,”