Chapter 22
Tell me why we’re doing this again,” Colt said, feeling nervous for the first time as he listened to the crowd chant, “Phan-tom Fly-er! Phan-tom Fly-er!” over and over.
“Because people need a symbol of hope,” Danielle said. “And like it or not, that’s you.”
Colt was uncomfortable with all the adulation, but at least they weren’t chanting, “Betrayer! Betrayer!” He looked over at his grandfather, who was standing with his arms folded across his chest as he listened to a conversation between Superintendent Thorne and Giru Ba. Grandpa was everything that the Phantom Flyer was supposed to be. Tall with broad shoulders and a wide jaw. Confident. Unflappable. He was what the world needed, not a sixteen-year-old kid who had no idea what he was doing.
“Can you see the president?” Grey asked, peeking over Colt’s shoulder.
“Not from here,” Oz said when Colt didn’t answer. “But I’m pretty sure he’s up in the press box behind that wall of bulletproof glass. And it looks like Pierce’s dad is right up there with him. Making sure he’s getting in all the photos.”
A single snare drum rattled, and a hush went over the crowd as Colt watched four marines in dress uniform escort a girl to the middle of the field. She wore a formfitting dress covered in gold sequins that shimmered beneath the lights. Spiraling blond hair bounced with each step, and there was something about the way she walked . . . It was familiar, but it was also impossible.
“Lily?”
Colt’s heart raced as he watched her follow the marines up onto a dais, and as she stepped up to the microphone and sang the first five words, he knew that it was Lily singing “The Star-Spangled Banner.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Colt said to no one in particular.
“I didn’t know,” Danielle said.
“Me either,” Oz said. “Just make sure you keep your head in the game. I don’t care what they say about these flight suits, if you crash at a hundred feet, you’re not walking away.”
“She’s amazing,” Stacy said.
“Yeah, she is,” Colt said, savoring every note.
Cameras flashed in an erratic sequence like fireflies lighting up a summer night as the song hit the crescendo, but when it ended there was an odd silence. Then someone whistled and a few people started to clap. Before long everyone in the stadium was standing and cheering.
“Okay, everyone, it’s showtime!” Captain Starling said.
Fireworks exploded, showering the night sky in a burst of color as smoke machines at the mouth of the tunnel whirred to life. Smoke issued from the tubes, rising like fog over a swamp as the crowd continued to cheer.
“Ten seconds,” Captain Starling said.
“Do you think she’s transferring?” Colt said as he watched her stand there smiling at the cheering crowd.
“Here? Yeah, right,” Oz said. “What’s she going to do, sing for the Thule?”
“I know it’s hard, but don’t be a jerk,” Danielle said.
Captain Starling started his countdown. “Five . . . four . . .”
The snare drum started to beat again, and Lily followed the marines back down the steps. She hesitated when she got to the bottom, and for a moment it appeared like she was looking at Colt. A gust of wind buffeted her hair, and she reached up to pull back a strand that had fallen across her forehead.
“Three . . . two . . .”
She walked away, across the field and back into the shadows of a tunnel. Colt felt empty and alone, and when he looked down at his uniform, he suddenly felt like a fraud. There was no way people were going to believe that he was the reincarnation of the Phantom Flyer. He was too short. Too young. Too scared.
“One!”
Oz was the first one out of the tunnel, hefting an enormous American flag in his hands as he sprinted to the center of the field. The rest of the flight team followed, and as the smoke swirled around them, Colt imagined that they were the original Agents of CHAOS running out to meet the Nazis somewhere in the Ardennes.
“Where’s the star of our show?” Captain Starling asked as the public address announcer introduced the Agents of CHAOS.
Colt took a last look at Grandpa, who nodded. “This is your time,” Grandpa said, as though he could hear the doubts swirling in Colt’s mind. “Go out there and make us proud.”
A litany of excuses rushed through Colt like raging water. They formed on his tongue and pressed to escape through his lips, but instead he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Thanks.” A simple word, but it was all he had to offer.
Bright lights flashed through the stands as Oz slammed the flagpole into the ground. The crowd was raucous as he stood there with his hands on his hips and his feet set wide, striking a classic superhero pose as the Stars and Stripes snapped in the wind behind him. “Let’s go, McAlister,” he said through his comlink.
“It looks like you have things under control,” Colt said, smiling as he shook his head. Oz was improvising, and Colt was fairly certain that Captain Starling was about to have an aneurysm.
“That’s off script,” Starling said as though on cue. “Colt, can you hear me? Colt . . . Colt?”
“I can hear you, sir.”
“Are you waiting for an invitation or something? Get out there!”
“Yes, sir.” Colt ran down the tunnel and out onto the airfield. The sun was long gone, but the stadium lights flared bright enough that Colt had to shield his eyes, even with the tinted visor on his helmet.
“It’s about time,” Oz said as trumpets sounded and snare drums snapped.
The crowd grew frenzied, and Colt wondered if this was what the quarterback of a Super Bowl team felt like when he ran onto the field before the game. The emotions were strange. Excitement. Embarrassment. Pride. Awe. And for a moment it was hard to breathe.
“Ladies and gentlemen . . . the Phantom Flyer!”
Colt raised his right hand and waved to the crowd. The stadium shook as the people stamped their feet and clapped their hands, and Colt knew that whatever was happening, it wasn’t about him. They weren’t looking for someone to save them; they wanted to be inspired, to believe that they could overcome. They wanted hope.
“Wait for it,” Captain Starling said.
Rockets hissed as fireworks shot into the sky. Smoke trailed behind, and when the rockets reached three hundred feet they hung in the air, but only for a moment. The first rocket burst, sending streams of red light showering through the darkness. Another exploded, this one white. Then another. Blue. They continued to erupt, lighting the night in a brilliant display.
“And go!” Captain Starling said.
As one, the Phantom Flyer and his Agents of CHAOS ignited their jet packs. Colt hit the thrust, and fiery exhaust spit from his engines. Even through his armor he could feel the heat against his legs and lower back as his feet left the ground. Power surged and Colt rose, arms tight against his body and toes pointed as he looked up at the sliver of moon that hung in the sky.
The Agents of CHAOS formed a perfect circle around him, and as they climbed, the frenzied sounds of the crowd faded. Soon the stadium looked like nothing more than a toy that was small enough to fit in Colt’s palm.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the starburst!”
As Colt rose, he slowly spun, and his exhaust trail formed a corkscrew. The other pilots veered away, their own exhaust bending as they cascaded back toward the stadium. Colt extended his arms and arched his back like he was diving backward into a swimming pool, and when the crown of his head was pointed at the ground, he pulled his arms to his body and increased throttle, heading back toward the stadium like a falling star.
The Agents of CHAOS flew maneuver after maneuver, cutting across the stadium in a diamond pattern and then a V. They shot straight up, weaving in and out until the tails from their exhausts twined to form what looked like a giant length of rope. They flew backward and upside down, did barrel rolls and arching loops, spins and dives.
Colt pulled away from one formation and took a pass over the crowd. They cheered, jumping up and down and waving, but none of that mattered. He was looking for one person. When he finally spotted Lily, she was seated next to Grandpa in the box seats next to the railing. She looked beautiful; her hair danced in the wind and her blue eyes sparkled as they reflected the stadium lights.
“I thought we talked about this,” Captain Starling said as cameras flashed all around. “It’s important that we stick to the script.”
Colt ignored him as he raced toward Lily, every eye in the stadium following. He pulled up and hovered in place, wondering if any of this was real. There she was, not more than five feet away. Colt wanted to pick her up in his arms and fly away, but that would have to wait.
“Hi,” he said, feeling both awkward and elated.
“Hi.”
“I’m kind of in the middle of something, but I was wondering if you wanted to hang out after this. I mean, unless you’re busy.”
Her face flushed red as she smiled. “Like a date?”
“Yeah, like a date.” Colt was thankful that she couldn’t see his face, because now it was his turn to blush.
“Then I accept.”
“Ahem.” Captain Starling cleared his voice. “Cadet, if you’re finished, we have a show to put on.”