Page 138 of Aviatrix

“You ready?” I ask as VAL transmits the coordinates to him.

“I’ve never been more ready,” he replies.

I grip the controls tighter. “VAL, let’s show these assholes what we’re made of.”

Gary and Scooter pull up behind us. Formation locked. Targets in sight.

All hell is about to break loose.

THIRTY

FLIP AND BURN

We can’t screw this up.

If we do, we lose the time we need to figure out VAL. What she’s capable of, why Rourke wants her, and how to keep her safe. Frances didn’t say this was just about control. She said it was about power. Which, frankly, tracks. Rourke doesn’t just want to lead the country. He wants to own it.

Aliens showing up exactly when he needs a scapegoat? That’s more than convenient. It’s calculated.

But I don’t have time to unravel his motives. Not yet. Right now, we have one job. Fake an explosion.

And we’re almost at the rendezvous point.

“Atlas, this is Nova,” I radio. “You ready?”

“Thirty seconds out,” he replies, just as Eli blazes ahead and cuts across our path before peeling back to cover Gary and Scooter.

“Have we heard from Glitch?” I ask, my chest tightening with worry for Thea.

“No,” Scooter answers. “But she’s resourceful. She’ll find a way out.”

God, I hope he’s right.

“Preparing Operation Fly Away Birdie in ten seconds,” Gary calls out. “You ready, Nova?”

Lark shifts uncomfortably beneath me, his hands finding my waist. It’s too close for comfort, but we don’t have much of a choice.

“Three seconds,” I say into the radio.

“Two…,” Gary begins the countdown. “One.”

“VAL,” I command, “initiate Operation Fly Away Birdie.”

Without hesitation, VAL ejects a burst of flares that scatter behind us like shrapnel made of light, followed by a thick chaff and smoke cocktail that floods the sky with static and fire. A deep, concussive boom rips through the air as a sonic pulse detonates mid-flight loud enough to sell the lie.

VAL, for all intents and purposes, has been blown to shreds.

Then, we vanish.

No signal. No visual. No radar. Stealth Mode engaged.

“Talk to me, Nova,” Gary’s rasp shatters through the chatter in my head. “You and Cobra okay?”

“Affirmative,” I reply, slumping back against Lark. His hands remain firm on my waist, his body rigid behind me.

“Meet at the rendezvous site,” Gary says. “Keep an eye out for other aircraft in the air.”

“Will do,” I respond, dragging a hand down my face.