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Lee hopped into the pilot’s seat and familiarized himself with the controls, quickly identifying the various toggle switches and warning lights. He worked the pedals, feeling how stiff and sluggish they were. As he expected, there was no ignition key, just a master switch. He pumped the throttle to get fuel flowing and flicked the master switch. The hum of an electric pump was a good sign, bringing a smile to his face.

“Jump over the back,” Lee said to Jason as Sun-Hee’s brother ran over to the cockpit. There wasn’t much room behind the seats, but there was enough space for Jason to crouch down, sitting on a toolkit.

Lee flicked several toggle switches and brought the engine slowly to life. The exhaust spluttered and coughed. He kept the clutch engaged, disabling the rotors while the engine came up to speed.

“Halt!” came a cry from the motor pool.

One of the guards had a rifle leveled at them.

Lee worked with the cyclical control, revving the engine. He engaged the rotors. Slowly, reluctantly, the rotor blades began to turn.

A shot rang out.

Sun-Hee’s brother had his door open, with one foot resting on the chopper skids. He fired his rifle in response. The guard took cover behind one of the trucks.

“Shoot through the metal,” Lee cried and Sun-Hee’s brother responded, firing at the wheel arch. A body slumped to the ground, sprawling on the gravel.

Several other guards came running over from the barracks.

The rotor blades wound up to speed and began thrashing at the air.

White cracks appeared in the plastic dome of the chopper. It took Lee a moment to realize they were bullet holes. With the deafening roar of the engine, he couldn’t hear the shots being fired.

He pulled back on the cyclic control stick with his injured right hand and his face contorted in agony. With his left hand, Lee worked the collective, adjusting the pitch of the blades as he increased the throttle. His heart leaped with joy as the chopper lifted off from the motor pool. A soft touch on the right foot pedal corrected some yaw, while a nudge of the cyclic counteracted a slight pitch to the right. For a moment, he was back in basic training. The sensation of hanging in the air, even if only a foot above the ground, had never felt so good. The artificial cyclone thrown out by the helicopter forced the soldiers back, kicking fine stones and debris into their eyes. Several kept firing, but Lee could see they were firing wide.

The helicopter gained height, clearing the huts and then the trees as they raced away from the camp heading due north.

“You are going the wrong way,” Sun-Hee’s brother yelled over the noise as he fought to close his door. He pointed behind them, back to one side at the gates of the camp slowly receding into the darkness.

“I know,” Lee cried over the sound of the rotor blades beating at the air. “Believe me, I know!”

Chapter 14: Learjet

“Am I the only one that thinks irradiating the West Coast is a really bad idea?” Jason asked as the RV pulled up roughly fifty feet from the Learjet. He wondered how much sway he could have over a decision that had clearly already been made. “We’re talking about millions of people being exposed to radioactive fallout!”

“Ah,” Lachlan said, getting up from opposite them at the table. “What we’re proposing is more theatrical than actual. The jet has been modified so it can be piloted by remote control using the same technology found in drones. Think — Hollywood special effects! Big bang! Lots of flames! No actual damage.”

Bellum opened the RV door and stepped outside. Immediately, Jason could hear the high-pitched whine of the jet engines on the Learjet warming up. Lachlan and Stegmeyer were quick to follow, as was the driver.

Against his better judgement, Jason followed Lily out the door, making him the last person to leave the RV.

There was no hint of compulsion, no pressure on him to follow. The others walked away from him as though there weren’t a doubt in the world that he’d join them. If it’s reverse psychology, it’s working, he thought. Whether he liked it or not, he was in too deep to back out now. Perhaps by going with them he could steer things in a more rational direction. And if this was all true, he had to see it. The chance to lay eyes on a craft from another world was a prize beyond compare. The implications were profound: there was another intelligent species in outer space, and it had made contact with Earth. Granted, this wasn’t the First Contact he’d ever hoped for, but if they were right, it was First Contact nonetheless, and that was overwhelming to contemplate. First Contact represented a seismic shift for humanity. First Contact was a significant turning point in the 3.8 billion years life had existed on Earth.