Executive Intent

“Are you hurt, Noble?”

“I don’t know,” Boomer replied, sounding as if he was drowsy. “I think I’m okay. My head must’ve cushioned the impact.”

“Sounds like he’s got a concussion, sir,” Seeker said.

“Then we’re going to have to keep him awake until Stud Two can get to him,” Kai said. On the radio he said, “We’ve got Stud Two and a tanker getting ready to launch within the hour, Boomer. If nothing vital got hit, you have enough air for a while. Hang on. We’re sending everything we have up there to get you.”

“I can’t get to Jeff,” Boomer said. “My canopy won’t open.”

“You stay in your seat and stay strapped in, Boomer, and this time it’s a damned order,” Kai said. “Save your strength and your air-you’re going to need every bit of both to assist rescuers. We’re going to bring Stud Two up and transfer you and McCallum to their cargo bay and then back here. You think of anything to help that process and let us know-otherwise, stay put.”

“Yes, sir,” Boomer said. A few moments later, he added, “I screwed up, didn’t I, General?”

“You did your job, Boomer. Your job is to fly the spaceplane, and you did it.” He took a deep breath, then said, “I pulled the umbilicals and authorized you to push. After Jeff was done, I should’ve had you return to the station, or at least go into another transfer orbit-if Jeff’s fix didn’t work, you would’ve had to come back anyway. There was no reason to power up Eight with you guys just a mile away. It’s my fault and my responsibility, Boomer, got that?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now let’s stop thinking about the accident and start thinking about survival and rescue,” Kai said resolutely, as much to himself as to Hunter Noble. “You’ve got at least a couple hours before Stud Two can get to you. What we’re going to do is start evaluating your condition, and then the condition of your ship, because we need to pass as much information to Stud Two as we can before he launches. You’ve got battery-powered lights on your helmet and suit, so let’s get them on and take a look around.”

“Roger,” Boomer said. He felt as if he was underwater, perhaps in the big NASA EVA training tank in Houston -everything was moving in slow motion. But he touched the control on the side of his helmet on the first try, which illuminated two LED lamps on either side of his helmet.

“I’ve got a hole in my forward windscreen on the upper right side,” Boomer radioed. “That’s probably jammed the canopy closed. We’ll probably need the ‘Jaws of Life’ to pry us out of here.” He turned to his right and felt a stab of pain run through his neck. “Wrenched my neck, but I can move it.” He let the LED light play outside the Black Stallion. “I see a white cloud surrounding the ship, so I’m probably leaking something. Not sure if it’s jet fuel or oxidizer-might be both.” He then noticed the Earth-it was traveling overhead from left to right. “Looks like we’re slowly spinning, x-axis, counterclockwise, not real fast, maybe two revs a minute-just enough to be annoying.”

“Good info, Boomer,” Kai said. “Keep it coming.”

“Roger.” His fingers began finding their way across the forward and side instrument panels-he was familiar enough with the cockpit layout that he didn’t need lights to find them. “I’m shutting off any switches that are still on, but I’ll leave the battery switch on for now so we can communicate.” After he made sure all switches were off, he continued his scan. “Looks like whatever came through the windscreen exited through the left side of the canopy-probably missed me by just inches.”

“Lucky at cards, lucky with flying debris.”

“Unlucky at love, right?”

“We haven’t finished writing that chapter yet, have we?” Kai asked.

“No, we haven’t, sir. What’s going on with the Chinese?”

“They’re still heading for Mogadishu, and now we’re tracking a large formation of high-subsonic aircraft heading that way, too.”

“Looks like someone’s going to get clobbered down there.”

“One crisis at a time, Boomer. Check your oxygen lines and fittings.”

“Roger.” He let his fingers travel along the oxygen lines. He felt some pain when moving his right shoulder, but it wasn’t as bad as his neck. “Can’t feel any breaks in the oh-two line.”

“Roger that. Stud Two is taxiing for takeoff, Boomer. The tanker is airborne. They’ll be with you in about two and a half to three hours. Intermediate orbit, transfer orbit, rendezvous.”

“Not bad. Lucky again.”

“How’s your suit?”

“Stand by.” Boomer raised his left arm, then winced as he reached up with his right hand to turn on the suit control panel. “EEAS is on ship’s power,” he said. “ Battery status is one hundred percent and still being charged with ship’s power. Everything else looks like it’s in-”