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David's vision whited out, and he clapped his hands over his ears at the noise. Squinting, he tried to see through the shower of sparks slowly fading to black, but his vision was blown. Hannah grabbed his shoulder and pulled; he could barely make her out but followed her tugs. She led him back into the hallway and up the stairs, and finally he could see that she was following Jeannie Miller, who carried a flashlight. Its light bounced back from the aluminum corridor revealing the way ahead.
At the top of the stairs Jeannie switched it off and turned back to them, grasping Hannah's hand. "Okay, we need to get out of here right away. Evan and Radek and Laura rigged the building to blow, so we only have about thirty minutes."
"To blow?" David gasped. This was so cool, he thought, grinning. "Wow, I" --
"David," Hannah said, sounding like the confident and experienced spy he was convinced she was. "Not now. Now you fuel the plane as quickly as you can. Jeannie, do you have everything?"
As David hurried toward the Beaver, he saw Jeannie gesture behind her and realized she wore an enormous backpack, the weight nearly pulling her backwards. He wondered if she'd let him see the contents.
The lone light at the fuel pump still gleamed and he realized it had been jerry-rigged to a car battery. These people, he thought admiringly; they thought of everything. The fuel dispenser had been as well, so he was able to pump the high-octane aviation gasoline. He thought he heard velcro tearing, and saw from the corner of his eye Hannah help Jeannie into the backseat of the plane, heard their soft voices. Beyond them, the water glimmered beneath a sky thick with stars, the dense arch of the Milky Way glowing. He tried to imagine seeing his galaxy from the outside, seeing the galactic plane of another galaxy from another world. He could not, he decided, and clicked off the pump.
Clambering into the pilot's seat and buckling the seat belt, David asked, "Ready?" He flicked a switch and the instrumental panel glowed, comforting in this very dark night. "How much time've we got?"
"None," Jeannie said, sounding tense.
He started the engine and began to taxi away from the dock.
"Hurry," Hannah said, and he gunned the motor, moving faster than he liked but feeling the women's tension. He peered ahead, looking for obstacles, remembering the size and shape of the inlet. A small fairway buoy came into view and he accelerated.
"Buckled in?" he asked, not taking his eyes off the faint gleam of the water ahead of him.
"Go," Jeannie said urgently, and he went. He took a deep breath, straightened up, sent a thought to his cousin John, and gave himself to the hazards of this take-off.
The familiar growl of the engine intensified and water splashed at the pontoons. He felt the tail dip, heard the women shouting to each other, increased acceleration slowly until the water finally released them. He pulled up sharply, relieved, when suddenly the scene before him flipped from night to day and again his ears were assaulted.
"Holy shit!" he shouted, laughing, because he was young and safe and had successfully escaped -- he'd escaped and rescued his friends! Jeannie clapped her hands, and Hannah laughed, turning to high-five Jeannie, nearly clouting him on the ear. He twisted around in his seat, trying to see, then banked to the left. The building slid into view: no flames twisted from its doors but the site glowed deep red and gold.
"Don't fly over it," Jeannie shouted over the engine. "More coming!"
David increased altitude, heading east and inland, toward the interior of the island but he kept the site in view. He had decided Jeannie was wrong, that there would be no further explosions, or maybe it had already gone off. His vision returned to normal as the actinic light faded, leaving blue spots floating before him. Then the building flattened. Just flattened as if sucked inward. Imploded, one part of his mind thought, and then his floatplane skipped sideways, pushed aside by the explosion. "Jesus," he gasped. He felt a pressure against his skin, in his chest, his ears throbbed, and his heart jarred into a new racing rhythm. "Jeannie!" he shouted, just as she cried, "That's it! Now let's get the hell out of here." He took a last glance back but the site was now invisible. Whatever had happened had disappeared.
A few minutes later, David said, "Um, where are we going?"
"Oh, yeah," Hannah said. "To Lake Atlin. I've got the coordinates here." From the messenger bag she had tucked by her feet she drew a wad of papers. "Flashlight?" she said to Jeannie, putting her left hand up. Jeannie smacked the small flashlight into Hannah's palm. She leaned forward to mask the light; David appreciated the consideration. "It's almost due north," she said. "We'll have to fly over Alaska, but I guess that's okay." She didn't sound at all confident.
"Got a bearing?" David asked.
"355.616°. It's four hundred and thirty-five miles till we can re-fuel." She looked up at him from her crouched position, her body still shielding the light so as not to blind him. "Is that okay?"
"With this weight? We'll make it," he said. He tried not to show how rattled he'd been by that weird explosion. He took a deep breath, then another, before setting their course. Nearly due north, as Hannah had said. She was good at this, told himself, but his heart still hurtled in his chest and he was freaked by the notion that the weight of his plane had just been shoved aside.
"Are you all right?" Jeannie asked him, leaning between the two front seats. "Coffee?" She handed him a travel mug.
"Where the hell did you get this?" he asked. Hannah took the mug until he could reach for it.
"Um, before you arrived. Also, nice to meet you, David. You look a lot like John."
"Thanks!" He sipped cautiously; the coffee was still scalding. "Nice to meet you, too, and hell of a job you guys did."
"Thank you," she said, sounding prim.
"I've, uh, I've been following your work," he added. "Really impressive stuff."
After a silence, Hannah said, "He's a journalist. Proto-journalist. Not stalking you."
"Blogger," he corrected her. "So, Doctor Miller, why didn't you go to Atlantis?"
Behind him, he heard her sigh. "I have a husband and a little girl. Also, if you've been following me, you must know I don't have my doctorate."
"Might as well," he said. "Who were all those people? I recognized your brother, and my cousin, of course, and Hannah's brother Evan. And Radek Zelenka, but all the others?"
After a moment, Jeannie said, "Just people who wanted to go home."
"That's enough, David," Hannah said in her big-sister way. He made a face even though no one could see him. He was still charged up on adrenaline and a bit star-struck by those he'd recognized, and in his head having conversations with his cousin now several million miles away, but he realized that Jeannie and Hannah were worn out. He sipped at his coffee and fell silent. They had almost four hours of flying ahead of them, in the dark, and part of it over hostile territory known as Alaska. He had his work cut out.
Jeannie leaned forward again, this time passing a mug to Hannah, who took it gratefully. "You all right?" Hannah asked her. David couldn't hear what Jeannie said, but he saw the look on Hannah's face. "You'll see him again," Hannah said firmly. "I know I'll see Evan again."
"Not for years," Jeannie said, loud enough for David to hear. "But when I go, I'll come for you."
Hannah grinned back at her, and then at David. "Come for him, too," she said, gesturing with her mug at David. "You want to see Atlantis, too."
"Oh god, yeah," he said, and they laughed again.
He loved being in the air, and tonight was magic. The visibility was perfect, the sky dense with stars but no moon. Beneath, water glistened. He passed Hannah his coffee so he could slide open the side window an inch to smell the ocean air. He brought the Beaver up to around twenty thousand feet, high enough not to have to worry about any mountains. The air was cold, though, bitterly so, and he realized he was trembling so he shut the window.
"It's okay," Hannah told him, her voice kind.
Jeannie reached over his seat back and put her hands on his shoulders. "I should have warned you," she shouted into his ear. She began to rub his shoulders and he discovered he'd tensed up as if expecting more explosions.
"It's okay," he repeated, and then more firmly, "I wanted to be here, hell, I've been working on this story for years."
"There is no story," Hannah said, and Jeannie's hands froze.
"No, no, not, not like that," he said quickly. He adjusted their heading. "I mean someday I'll bust this wide open but not when you guys are in any danger. Just keep me in the loop, okay? Promise?"
Jeannie began to work on his shoulders again. "Your muscles are locked up solid," she said. "I don't even do this for my husband. Hannah, he's still shaking," she added.
"There's no place to set down," Hannah said to them. "We can't land in the US, not with Jeannie aboard. Are you going to be okay?"
David started to answer but made himself think about her question. Jeannie shook him gently; he sighed, and felt himself begin to relax. "Yeah." He laughed. "Hell, yeah! What an adventure! What's next? Seriously, what's next?"
He saw Hannah's face in the dim interior light; she was laughing at him, but kindly, and he knew Jeannie was, too. "First, we refuel at Atlin Lake. Then we head to Banff and get rid of this Canuck." She gestured her thumb toward Jeannie. "Then we pick up my brother-in-law Bruce the Trotskyite; we'll probably have to bail him out of jail, knowing him. And then, if you're lucky, I'll take you home to meet my mom."
"Your mom?" he echoed, disbelieving.
"Hey, her mum's great," Jeannie told him, squeezing hard enough he yelped.
"But, you know, everything that's happened -- there'll be more, right?"
Jeannie's hands grew still and she leaned between them again. "David, they can disappear us, you know. Your government, mine, the IOA -- that's the problem, they have too much power. You have to be careful."
"I've been thinking," Hannah said, and something in her voice made David look at her. "You graduate next May, right? Have you thought about law school afterwards? It'll make you a better journalist for the kind of work you want to do." She paused, her eyes narrow. "Maybe work with me."
David felt his smile grow bigger and bigger. He started to speak, then looked ahead, out at the starry night, the Pole Star gleaming before them. "Yeah," he said. "I think I'd like to be a spook."
Hannah smacked his arm, but all three of them laughed. Jeannie gave a final squeeze to his shoulders before settling back. He heard her digging through her enormous pack and then she passed a brown paper bag to Hannah, who peered inside. "Cookies!" she said, and handed one to David.