Pan Am 617 Heavy

by Sean Monaghan

Chapter 3: Pan Am 617 Heavy

Particle Magnetron

part 1 of 2

Dominic and Keyshaa attempt to recover documents and cash from Miterall in a dieselpunk world of propellators and atom smashers.

Another shot hit the sand to Dominic’s right. He fired back, aiming over the heads.

Keyshaa fired. “Damn,” she said.

“Keep going,” Dominic said. “At least we’re making them duck.”

“They think we’re shooting at them?”

“Well, they are shooting at us. Will you just stop talking and shoot again already?”

“I’m sighting.”

“Shoot.”

“I wish...” she said, and pulled the trigger. The shot went wide. Miterall’s men continued to scatter. “I wish we’d brought some of those new phosphorus tracer bullets. I could see better where I’m shooting.”

“Just keep shooting. They’re pinning us down here.”

“Keep it together.” Keyshaa tilted her head a little and squeezed the trigger again.

The fuel tank exploded. Orange flame flared, engulfing the wooden frame.

“Let’s go,” Dominic said, already on his feet.

The tank tilted, spilling burning fuel across the sand and tarmac. Aviation fuel, Dominic thought. Nicely volatile.

Miterall’s men were yelling, running back from the flames.

Dominic sprinted towards the bunker, Keyshaa racing after him.

A siren started up. The men kept yelling. No one was looking at the doorway.

Everything was lit by the flames. The fuel surged out in fiery rivulets. Smoke billowed, blowing away through the trees.

The bunker door creaked open. “Stop there,” a man with a long-barrelled revolver said.

“Quick,” Dominic shouted at him. “Someone’s breached the compound. They’re starting fires. We have to lock things down.”

“What?”

“There are dozens of them,” Dominic said, only a few steps away.

The man glanced at the fire. “Where are the—”

Dominic grabbed the revolver, twisting it away. The man’s eyes went wide. Dominic put his hand over the man’s mouth. “Back up.”

Keyshaa arrived and smacked the man in the temple with a closed fist. Stunned, he fell through the doorway.

“What did you do that for?”

“He was slowing things down. We need to get inside.” She glanced at the spreading fire. It was beginning to burn out.

Dominic relieved the man of his gun and pouches of ammunition, and found a set of keys. Might be useful.

“Come on,” Keyshaa called from inside.

Dominic followed her into the bunker, taking a last look back at the fire. The men had a tender out and were spraying detergent and water over the edges of the blaze. It wouldn’t take them long to regroup.

The interior of the bunker was a single wide concrete-lined room. Desks and cabinets were arrayed around the walls with lamps showing plans and papers. In the corner a stairway led to the upper room. Dominic looked for a way to secure the door. It had a key lock, but no manual bolt.

“Okay,” Keyshaa said. “That’s the way down.”

“Won’t the plans be here somewhere?” Dominic flicked through the keys and found one to lock the door, then moved to the closest table, looking at the papers and a big smudged and annotated blueprint of a helical coil. Like something from a brewery. Not an aircraft. Perhaps a rocket?

“Down here.” Keyshaa was already in the corner by the stair, underneath and climbing down a ladder that led below ground.

“Uh, all right.” He followed her down. They came to a narrow landing with another ladder heading down.

“Opinion?” Keyshaa said. “This is not how I remember it.”

“Different?”

“We should get down,” Keyshaa said. She moved past him towards the next ladder.

“What do you mean different?” Dominic said following her down. “You’ve been here before?” He kept his hand on the rail.

“Long time ago.” Her feet echoed on the iron rungs.

The lights flickered and died.

“Maybe this is a good time for a flare,” he said, feeling for the first step with his foot.

She struck one, the pink glow shining around the next landing. Someone pounded the door above.

“When were you here before?”

She moved onto the third ladder. “When I worked for Miterall—”

“You worked for Miterall?” He followed her down.

Keyshaa moved faster and was on the next landing. They were on an open scaffold now, climbing down into a wide void. How deep does this go?

“When I left university,” she said. “I interned for him at Mojave.”

“I know about Mojave. I didn’t know Miterall was there. I didn’t know you’d come here.”

Dominic heard clear voices from above. The men coming down the first ladder.

“How did you think I knew about the compound? Knew about this building?”

“Didn’t you go to the records department?”

“Sure, to get a photostat of the map. But this has been here since the Germans almost invaded Poland, and the Japanese were mobilising to conquer the Pacific.”

“What?”

“Don’t you know your history? The Pentagon knew about the Japanese wanting to annex some Pacific islands so they, well mostly the Army, built loads of defenses all over. This is a remnant.”

Dominic realised he was getting closer to her. She’d stopped moving. He saw the pinprick glints of Keyshaa’s eyes and stopped. They’d come to the bottom of the ladders, were standing on a hard surface in a bigger room. Nearby he could hear the hum of machinery.

“This way,” she said, taking his hand, making their rings click.

Dominic squinted, could only see the outlines of the ironwork. “Where?” he said. He almost pulled his hand from hers.

“Finding Miterall.”

Someone above shouted. Dominic glanced up and saw five of them coming down the ladders carrying flashlights.

“When were you here?” he said.

“I was twenty-two, all right? Young.” She kept moving. “I didn’t feel young at the time, I felt weary.”

From the flare’s glow Dominic could make out details. Ahead was darkness. Iron girders angled in, almost from the sides, reaching up to the top. The ceiling was probably thirty feet above.

The building didn’t make any sense. The only entrance from above, into just a deep void. Strange, even for the paranoia of thirty years back. His parents’ era.

He saw, further ahead, where Keyshaa was heading, a darker patch. It was odd, the walls just seemed black, but even in the virtual absence of light, there was still a gray tinge to them.

“But you’ve been here?” he said. “Lived and worked here?” Perhaps that explained the business with the truck. She knew how things worked.

The men behind shouted again, and Dominic found himself bathed in light as they turned their lights from the base of the ladder shaft.

“I think we should shoot,” Keyshaa said.

“Planning on killing someone now?” Dominic turned and fired the stolen revolver at the left of the ladder. The men yelled and the lights jostled around. Another shot came back.

“Move out of the light.”

“You need to give me more details.” But he moved. No sense in getting killed.

Keyshaa fired and Dominic heard the bullet crack against the concrete side. Dominic fired again.

Keyshaa hurled the flare across to the side. Dominic had a glimpse of a tall machine, like stacked rings, with cables and glass piping. Helixes, like that plan.

“Miterall had rocketry ideas,” she said. She fired at the stairway, the bullet spanging off.

The flashlights went out, taking the void back into darkness.

“Come on,” Keyshaa said. She grabbed his hand again and pulled him around.

“I can’t see anything.”

“I know where I’m going.”

“Of course you do.”

She kept moving quickly, not quite running. “I was out here maybe a month before I got a ride home. Aw crap.”

“What?” Dominic could hear it too. Something was happening ahead. An arcing, crackling electrical sound.

“That can’t be good. Come on, run.” Keyshaa sped off, still holding his hand.

Dominic ran with her, holding his other hand ahead. He tried to visualize the bunker, knew that they were near the side. It was unnerving running in darkness and he almost stumbled several times.

The crackling continued and ahead he could see occasional distant flashes. Too far ahead. Then he realised what the patch of deeper darkness was. A tunnel. They’d already run beyond the side of the bunker. Keyshaa kept running.

Dominic glanced back. He could see flashlights flicking on and off as the men came down. They were trying to avoid being targets.

How high was the tunnel? Certainly there was no evidence of it on the surface. Not that he’d seen it all, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there.

Why build a tunnel on an atoll? They had to be below the water table here. Atolls could be pretty porous, so the tunnel would have to be lined well. If it was thirty years old, or more, then it was probably pretty unstable. Unless Miterall had built it himself, in the meantime.

But Keyshaa knew about it.

“Okay,” Keyshaa said. “Get ready to sprint.”

“Why? We can’t see anything. Where are we—”

“I’ll light a flare. The tunnel curves—”

“They’ll see us.”

“That’s why I said sprint.”

To be continued...

To Challenge 432...