Happy Tuesday! Here wishing everyone a blessed day ahead.
2nd last chapter already. Enjoy the read!
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Chapter 26:
Nyechenko had managed to reach the galley when he heard the gunshots ring out. He had been using a hidden passage on the Globemaster when the left engine failed, throwing him onto the wall. Lucky that the virus sample hadn’t been released from its container, or he may have been the sole victim to his creation. He shoved the trapdoor open lightly, making the carpet roll up, and poked his neck through the hole.
There was nobody there.
At their current rate of descent, Nyechenko estimated that they had only minutes before the plane crashed and the glass box was breached, spreading the virus globally within two days. Sliding down the galley floor and onto a wall, he noticed a trail of blood leading to a massive, gaping hole that had been clearly made by an explosion. He then noticed a thin stream of blood running down the cargo bay floor, and decided to follow the path to the MI6 agents.
© 2021 TINKERBELLSAN tinkerbellsan.wordpress.com ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Written for tinkerbellsan.wordpress.com with permission from the Author, Red Wolf. If you are not reading this from tinkerbellsan.wordpress.com, then this original novel has been posted without the permission of the author.
McCain had gone into the cockpit and noticed the trapdoor, cursing to himself as to whether he should go after the scientist, or try and stabilise the plane. Opting to save the aircraft and prevent a potential crash, he tilted the joystick slightly to the right and managed to return the plane altitude to normal. He then reset the autopilot and flicked some switches which he somehow knew would keep the engine running. That was when he left the cockpit, only to be received by three poor shots from an Rsh-12.
Nyechenko was holding the gun in his right hand, while holding all the tubes in his left. The glass box was on the floor, empty.
“Don’t you dare move, British dog.” he spat the words out slow, as if chiding a young toddler.
McCain raised his hands in the air and slowly climbed down the stairs. He had barely touched the floor when Nyechenko, tucking the vials into his back pocket, grabbed him by the collar and dragged him towards the open cargo bay door.
“You ruined everything.” Nyechenko sneered, pressing the hammer. This caused the cylinders to rotate sixty degrees. “All you had to do was bring me to your stupid airfield, put me on the fucking flight to London. And you were so close to letting me win. I would return home a hero to my country. Now?”
He fired, a bullet barely missing McCain’s cheek. The MI6 agent fell backwards, clutching his wound.
“I’m a disgrace because of you. The whole world knows about the Globemaster and the bombs. MI6 will rescue you, and you’ll just reveal my glorious, patriotic scheme as nothing but an attempted “crime” on your petty island.”
© 2021 TINKERBELLSAN tinkerbellsan.wordpress.com ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Written for tinkerbellsan.wordpress.com with permission from the Author, Red Wolf. If you are not reading this from tinkerbellsan.wordpress.com, then this original novel has been posted without the permission of the author.
McCain stood up.
“Your back pocket. I know you have something inside.” Nyechenko extended his left hand out. “Give it to me.”
Silence.
“Now!” the professor barked.
That was when McCain, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out the Fairbairn-Sykes dagger, approached the smug Nyechenko. They stood silently for several seconds, their eyes communicating their mutual hatred for each other.
Then, he struck.
McCain grabbed Nyechenko’s free hand and raised his knife, pulling the professor’s arm close to his chest as he swung the blade clean through his wrist. A thin fountain of blood was gushing from the wound as Nyechenko let out a horrified scream, unable to do anything but stumble onto the floor.
McCain picked him up and clenched his left fist, delivering a concussive blow to the scientist’s face.
Another punch.
And another.
He couldn’t stop throwing his fists wildly at the fallen villain’s face until it became a bloody mess. By now, the bleeding had only gotten worse, and Nyechenko had to endure the pain as he pressed his raw flesh and bone against his business suit. Then, he suddenly lashed out, using the butt of his revolver to strike McCain in the parietal lobe. The British agent was forced onto the floor, an advantage which Nyechenko used. He rolled over the spy, pressing the muzzle of his gun against McCain’s frontal lobe.
“Once again, I get the upper hand.” the scientist sneered, his finger leaning gently on the trigger. “This time, I won’t be so kind as to spare your imperialist, insignificant life. That said, I will permit you to state your last words, if you have any.”
McCain chuckled, raising his arms past Nyechenko’s abdomen.
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“Yeah, I do.” the spy answered. “As you said back in Moscow, thanks for trusting me to save the world.”
He then grabbed Nyechenko’s bottom and used his left leg to kick the professor off his body. The blow was so powerful, it actually sent him flying towards the edge of the bay doors. The professor landed with a hard knock, standing up only after a few seconds.
“That’s it.” he grunted, using the raw strength of his right hand to push himself up. “You’re dead meat.”
When he raised the revolver to McCain, he was shocked to see the spy holding the knife in one hand, and the virus samples in the other.
But by then, he was too late.
McCain hurled the blade straight for Nyechenko’s chest, landing a perfect bullseye right in the middle. The professor looked down to see a puddle of blood, then looked up again with defeat in his eyes, as McCain threw himself forward and pushed the knife even deeper with a mondollyo chagi. The second kick threw Nyechenko’s dying body overboard, and he closed his eyes as the strong winds tossed him closer and closer to land.
Dimitri Nyechenko, the real enemy, was gone.
But McCain had the problem of holding the virus samples. He quickly returned them to the box and reentered the cockpit, assuming control of the joystick and steering the aircraft away from Polish territory and towards the nearest possible country. Strapping the box into the co-pilot’s seat, McCain noticed two EA-18G Growlers approaching the Globemaster, most likely intent on shooting it down. Shutting off all communication channels, McCain brought the plane to a descent, nearing an empty stretch of road far away from any signs of life.
Time, twenty-nine minutes to ten in the morning.
Original Novel by Red Wolf
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