Artemis Fowl: The Opal Deception

She flicked her eyes towards the readouts. The core temperature of the craft was dropping, but would it be quick enough? This section of the chute was reasonably straight, but there was a kink coming up in thirty miles and they would crash into it like a fly hitting an elephant.

 

Butler crawled up towards the rear of the ship. On the way he snagged two fire extinguishers and popped their pins. He tossed the extinguishers into the engine room and closed the door. Through the hatch he could see the extinguishers cartwheeling, covering the engine with freezing foam.

 

The engine temperature dropped another notch.

 

The missiles were closer now, and gaining.

 

Holly opened all the vents wide, flooding the shuttle with cool air. Another notch towards green on the temperature readout.

 

Come on, she said through rippling lips. A few more degrees.

 

They hurtled down and down, spinning into blackness. Little by little the ship was drifting to starboard. Soon it would smash into the kink that rose to meet them. Hollys finger hovered over the ignition. She would wait until the last possible moment.

 

The engines cooled even further. They were efficient energy-saving units. When they were not in use, they quickly funnelled excess heat to the life-support batteries. But still the missiles held their course.

 

The kink in the chute wall appeared in their headlights. It was bigger than an average mountain and was composed of hard, unforgiving rock. If the shuttle impacted, it would crumple like a tin can.

 

Artemis squeezed words from between his lips. Not working. Engines.

 

Wait,Holly replied.

 

The flaps were vibrating now, and the shuttle went into a tumble. They could see the heat-seekers roaring up behind them, which were now in front of them, then behind them again.

 

They were close to the rock now. Too close. If Holly delayed just one more second, she would not have sufficient room to manoeuvre. She punched the ignition, veering to port at the last millisecond. The bow plates sent up an arc of sparks as they scraped along the rocky outcrop. Then they were free, zooming into the black void. That is, if you count being pursued by two heat-seekers as being free.

 

The engine temperature was still dropping and would be for maybe half a minute while the turbines heated up. Would it be enough? Holly punched the rear camera view up on the front screen. The rockets were still coming. Unrelenting. Purple fuel burning in their wake. Three seconds to impact. Then two. Then they lost contact, veering away from their target. One went over the top, the other under the keel.

 

It worked, sighed Artemis, releasing a breath he didnt realize hed been holding.

 

Well done, soldier, grinned Butler, ruffling Hollys hair.

 

Mulch poked his head through from the passenger area. His face was slightly green. I had a little accident, he said. No one enquired further.

 

Lets not celebrate just yet, said Holly, checking her instruments. Those missiles should have detonated against the chute wall, but they didnt. I can think of only one reason why they wouldnt keep travelling in a straight line.

 

If they acquired another target, offered Butler.

 

A red dot appeared on the plasma screen. The two missiles were heading directly for it.

 

Exactly. Thats an LEP supersonic attack shuttle, and, as far as theyre concerned, weve just opened fire on them.

 

Major Trouble Kelp was behind the wheel of the LEP attack shuttle. The craft was travelling at over three times the speed of sound, booming along the chute like a silver needle. Supersonic flights were very rarely cleared, as they could cause cave-ins and, in rare cases, be detected by human seismographic equipment.

 

The shuttles interior was filled with impact-gel to dampen the otherwise bone-breaking vibration. Major Kelp was suspended in the gel in a modified pilots suit. The ships controls were connected directly to his gloves, and the video ran into his helmet.

 

Foaly was in constant contact from Police Plaza.

 

Be advised that the stolen shuttle is back in the chute, he informed Trouble. Its hovering at one twenty-four miles.

 

I have it, said Trouble, locating the dot on his radar. He felt his heart race. There was a chance that Holly was alive, and aboard that shuttle. And if that were true, he would do whatever it took to bring her home safely.

 

A sunburst of white, yellow and orange flared on his scopes.

 

We have an explosion of some kind. Was it the stolen shuttle?

 

No, Trouble. It came from nowhere. There was nothing there. Watch out for debris.

 

The screen was streaked with dozens of jagged yellow lines as hot metal shards plummeted towards the centre of the Earth. Trouble activated the nose lasers, ready for anything that might head his way. It was unlikely that his vessel would be threatened the chute was wider than the average city at this depth. The debris from the explosion would not spread more than a mile. He had plenty of room to steer himself out of harms way.

 

Unless some of the debris followed him. Two of the yellow streaks were veering unnaturally in his direction. The on-board computer ran a scan. Both items had propulsion and guidance systems. Missiles.

 

I am under fire, he said into his microphone. Two missiles incoming.

 

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