Chapter 32 · People Falling from the Sky

The radar screen lit up like Christmas.

I was halfway through chewing out Reynolds for letting the fuel depot burn when the tech at the monitor started yelling. "Contact inbound, northwest vector, low altitude—"

"That's our bird." I shoved past two runners and crossed the command shack in four strides. The blip was moving fast, too fast, cutting straight through contested airspace like it didn't care who was down there with a launcher. "Six hours early. What the hell happened?"

Reynolds was already on the radio, trying to raise the pilot. Static. More static. Then a man's voice, clipped and shaking. "Iron Gate, this is Cargo-Seven-Niner. We are—shit, we are taking fire, say again, taking fire, requesting immediate—"

The line went dead.

I grabbed the handset. "Cargo-Seven-Niner, this is Iron Gate Actual. What's your status?"

Nothing.

"Cargo-Seven-Niner, do you copy?"

Still nothing.

The blip kept moving. Closer now. I could see the trajectory—straight for us, but wobbling, the line on the screen jerking left and right like the pilot was fighting the stick. My gut twisted.

"Get everyone to the yard," I said. "Now."

Reynolds stared at me. "Boss, if Hammer's shooting at that thing—