Matthew Reilly - Area 7

side of Schofield's head, one of them brandishing a

knife!

It was the 7th Squadron commando on the back of the

cockroach. With his head held above the driver's compartment,

he was reaching in with his hands to kill Schofield.

On a reflex, Schofield grabbed the man's knife hand,

while the assassin's other hand clutched madly at his face.

They were still rushing toward Marine One, the cockroach--its two front tires punctured, its driver fighting for

his life--caroming wildly across the shiny hangar floor.

Grappling with the commando behind him, Schofield

saw Marine One ahead of them, saw its rapidly spinning

vertical tail rotor, a blurring circle of motion about six feet

off the ground, a few inches higher than the roof of the

cockroach ...

Schofield didn't miss a beat.

He threw the fast-moving cockroach into a skid, fishtailing

the big vehicle sideways--sliding it underneath the

tail rotor of Marine One, so that the buzz saw-like blades of

the vertical rotor passed low over the cockroach's roof.

Then he heard the commando behind him scream in terror

before--abruptly--the yell was cut short as the tail rotor

sheared the commando's head clean off his body and a

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shocking waterfall of blood gushed down from the roof of

the driver's compartment.

The three men of Alpha Unit standing near Marine One

hurled themselves clear of the sliding towing vehicle as it

shot beneath the tail boom of the President's helicopter.

The cockroach emerged on the other side of the chopper,

skidding to a sideways halt, so that now the bullet

battered towing vehicle was facing the great square hole that

was the elevator shaft.

Schofield saw the yawning shaft before him--with its

wide hydraulic platform inside it, still making its ponderous

descent; saw the AWACS plane's flying-saucer-like roto

dome about ten feet below the floorline.

He revved the engine.

Love Machine saw what he was thinking.

"You are out of your mind, Captain."

"Whatever works," Schofield said. "Hang on."

He gunned it.

The cockroach shot forward, rear tires squealing,

rushed toward the edge of the shaft.

Speed is everything, Schofield thought as he drove. He

needed enough forward velocity so that the cockroach

would reach the ...

The cockroach rushed toward the rim.

Bullet sparks exploded all around it.

Schofield drove hard.

Then the cockroach hit the edge of the elevator shaft

and launched itself out into the air ...

THE COCKROACH SOARED—WHEELS SPINNING, NOSE HIGH.

Then, as it fell, its forward bumper began to droop and

it resumed the appearance of three tons of steel that was

never intended to fly.

By this time, the elevator platform had descended about

thirty feet below floorline, but the body of the destroyed

AWACS plane—and its intact rotodome—made the fall for

the soaring cockroach only about ten feet.

The cockroach landed—smash!—right on top of the

AWACS plane's downward-slanted rotodome.

The rotodome, titanium-based and very rigid, resisted

the downward energy of the falling vehicle valiantly.

Its support struts, however, did not.

They buckled instantly, snapping like twigs, as did the

body of the airplane underneath the rotodome.

The AWACS's cylindrical fuselage just crumpled like

an aluminum can under the weight of the falling towing vehicle,

effectively cushioning the roach's fall.

The rotodome was driven down into the fuselage, creating

a ramplike effect which allowed Schofield's cockroach

to skip off the other side of the plane and bounce down onto

its destroyed left-hand wing.

Schofield and Love Machine were thrown about like rag

dolls as the cockroach bounced and jounced and thundered

forward.

Somehow, Schofield managed to hit the brakes and the

cockroach skidded and spun, before slamming to an abrupt

halt against the far wall of the shaft, right next to the

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square-shaped hole that normally housed the detachable

mini-elevator.

Schofield was already moving when the cockroach

stopped, helping Love Machine out of the driver's cabin just

as the first 7th Squadron men emerged from the twisted steel

forest around them and opened fire.

But their bullets were too slow.

Indeed, they could only watch in stunned amazement as

Schofield handed Love Machine the Football, draped the

wounded man's arms over his shoulders, and without even a

blink, jumped with Love Machine down into the hole in the

platform, disappearing into the blackness beneath it.

LIKE A PAIR OF TANDEM SKYDIVERS, SCHOFIELD AND LOVE

Machine dropped down the side of the massive elevator

shaft, dwarfed by its immense size.

As instructed, Love Machine gripped Schofield's shoulders

as hard as he could--holding on to the Football as he

did so. That didn't stop him screaming "Arrrrrgghh!!!" all

the way down.

The gray concrete wall rushed past them as they free fell down the side of the shaft.

As he dropped, Schofield looked down and saw a

square of white light stretching out from the hangar on Level

1, illuminating the tiny mini-elevator platform stopped there--two hundred feet below.

He unholstered his newly acquired Maghook, snapped

open its grappling hook.

He couldn't fire it up at the underside of the main platform.

Maghooks only had one hundred and fifty feet of rope.

It wouldn't be long enough.

No, he had to wait until they dropped about fifty feet,

and then--

As he dropped past it, Schofield lodged the Maghook's

grappling hook into a metal bracket sticking out from the

greasy concrete wall. The bracket kept a series of thick cables

running down the side of the shaft bundled together.

As the Maghook gripped the bracket, Schofield and

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Love Machine continued to fall, the hook's rope playing out

above them, unspooling rapidly, wobbling through the air.

The mini-elevator's deck rushed up toward them at

shocking speed.

Faster, faster, faster ...

Jolt.

And they stopped, three feet above the mini-elevator's

deck, in front of the massive doorway that led into the Level

1 hangar bay.

Schofield released his grip on a black button on the

Maghook's forward grip--it was a trigger that initiated a

clamping mechanism that bit into the Maghook's unspooling

rope. He'd hit it just in time. He and Love Machine were

lowered the final three feet.

Their boots touched the ground and they turned to find

that they had company.

Standing in front of them just inside the hangar bay

doors were Book II, Juliet and the President. With them

were Mother, Brainiac and the scientist, Herbie Franklin.

"If anybody makes a joke about 'dropping in,'" Mother

said, "I will personally rip that person's throat out."

"WE HAVE TO KEEP MOVING," SCHOFIELD SAID WHEN HE'D

reeled in his Maghook. The giant aircraft elevator was still

lumbering down the shaft above them—with its cargo of 7th

Squadron commandos.

Schofield's group headed for the vehicle ramp at the far

end of the enormous underground hangar bay, Book II and

Mother carrying the wounded Love Machine between them.

Juliet Janson came alongside Schofield. "So, now what?"

"We've got the President," he said. "And we've got the

Football. Since the Football was the only thing keeping the

President here, I say we ditch this party. That means finding