Into third, now doing eighty, snicking the gear lever through the gleaming chrome gate…

In the mirror he saw that the Jeep had almost reached Starkman, the other vehicles now pouring onto the bridge.

The other end of the bridge was coming up fast, but he could only guess how much time he had left before the explosive detonated. Just moments.

One hundred miles an hour and accelerating, but still a few seconds from solid ground-

The image in the mirror disappeared in a flash of light. A moment later came a huge crack like a thunderbolt, immediately followed by a lower, more sinister rumble.

The flat plane of the bridge suddenly became a slope-

It was collapsing!

Starkman’s bomb had blown out the center of the sweeping arch, the two halves of the structure plunging into the river below. All Chase could do was keep his right foot jammed to the floor and hope the Ferrari reached the end of the bridge before the whole thing dropped out from under him!

He was now driving uphill, speed falling alarmingly as a wave of jagged cracks swept past up the road surface. “Oh shit-”

Everything tilted, and the road disintegrated beneath him-

The Ferrari shot off the end of the collapsing bridge as it tumbled into the fjord, crashing down onto solid ground. The exhaust pipes were torn away as the underbody hit the road, the engine note becoming a raw, ragged rasp.

Chase fought to keep the car under control as it slewed around. He stamped on the brake. The Ferrari juddered as the antilock system kicked in, but it was skidding sideways, tires straining, threatening to burst.

He hauled at the steering wheel. The car spun backwards towards a wall.

Foot off the brake, and accelerate-

With a shriek of tortured rubber, the Ferrari came to a stop in a cloud of acrid tire smoke barely a foot from the airfield’s perimeter wall. Chase coughed as the swirling mist blew past him. Through the smashed windscreen he saw another cloud, a ghostly line of dust marking where the bridge had been. The security forces pursuing him were gone, having plunged into the river with their boss.

And Starkman.

Chase paused to give his ex-comrade a silent word of thanks.

Then he turned to look down the runway. In the distance, he saw the hulking white shape of the A380 against the dark backdrop of the surrounding hills, about to turn around.

About to take off.

He put the battered Ferrari into gear, then set off with a screech of tires.

TWENTY-NINE

The A380 slowed as it approached the end of the taxiway, preparing for the wide half-turn to point it down the two-kilometer-long runway.

Chase kept his eyes fixed on the aircraft as he accelerated, clicking up through the Ferrari’s gears. The blasting wind forced him to squint, eyes streaming, but all he had to do was keep going in a straight line.

He had never been aboard an A380, knew almost nothing about its internal layout beyond it being a double-decker. But that was the passenger version-this one was a freighter, meaning he was even more in the dark. He would have to wing it when he got on board.

He would have to wing it to get on board. Trying to block the plane’s takeoff with the Ferrari would be like trying to stop a tank with a cardboard box. The enormous aircraft would blow the sports car aside as if it weren’t even there.

And he couldn’t try to stop the plane by shooting at it-there was too much risk of killing Nina if it caught fire or crashed as a result.

Although if it meant stopping the virus then it might have to be a necessary sacrifice-with himself going the same way…

He was doing over 140, barely able to see the speedometer through his watering eyes. The A380 was a white blur ahead as it moved into its turn.

Whatever he was going to do, he had to think of it fast…

“Ms. Frost!” The pilot’s voice echoed over the intercom. “There’s a car on the runway!”

Kari went to the port side of the cabin to look down. “What?” she gasped. Nina peered past her. She saw the runway stretching off into the distance as the plane turned-and racing down it, a scarlet Ferrari convertible!

The car charged towards them at incredible speed, its lone occupant taking on form. Even at a distance she recognized the balding head behind the wheel the moment she saw it. “Oh my God! It’s Eddie!”

Kari reacted with shock, then went to the intercom. “This is Kari Frost. Under no circumstances are you to abort the takeoff. Whatever he does, get this plane into the air. That is an order.” She returned to the window. “What the hell is he doing?”

“Trying to stop you,” said Nina.

Kari set her jaw, her expression turning hard. “He won’t succeed.” She moved to the top of the stairs and shouted down to the guards, “Get your guns and open the hatch! Somebody’s trying to stop us from taking off-”

Nina realized that Kari’s back was to her, and she had only the lightest hold on the handrail.

She didn’t even have time to consider the thought rationally. Instead, she acted on pure instinct, rushing at Kari with both arms held out like battering rams and pushing her down the stairs.

Taken completely by surprise, Kari had no chance to stop herself from falling. She screamed as she tumbled down the metal steps, flailing limbs smashing against the hard edges, then hit the floor with a bang, bleeding and dazed.

Nina stared down at her almost in shock at what she’d done before instinct took over again. Fight or flight…

Flight!

She ran to the door at the back of the cabin, praying it wasn’t locked. It wasn’t. Darting through, she found herself inside the upper hold, a vaulted tunnel of bare metal ribs holding a line of cargo containers, rattling against their restraints. Banks of white LEDs mounted along the ceiling provided ghostly illumination.

There was no lock on the door. She hurriedly looked around for some way to secure it.

The nearest container was just a few feet away, held in place by thick straps attached to lugs in the floor. She yanked at what she hoped was the release lever. With a loud clack, the strap came free. She looped it behind a spar in the wall before tying it around the door handle, pulling it tight. It wouldn’t stop the door from being opened, but it would make it much harder for anyone to squeeze through the narrow gap.

She stepped back, looking down the hold.

The virus…

For the virus to be released in flight, whatever container it was in had to be somehow plumbed to the skin of the Airbus. If she could find the container, there might be some way to sabotage it.

Loud footsteps from the cabin: someone racing up the stairs.

Nina ran down the hold.

The A380 was about to complete its turn, and Chase was almost at the end of the runway. He wiped his eyes, trying to get a clear look at the aircraft. Under the fuselage were five undercarriage legs, one at the nose and the other four spreading out the plane’s weight as widely as possible.

When the undercarriage retracted into the plane’s belly, there should be access hatches he could use to enter the fuselage if he got onto one of the landing legs.

Might be access hatches, he reminded himself.

He had to take the chance. It was now or never. The A380’s four gaping engines were spinning up.

The Ferrari’s tires screeched again as he swerved to one side of the runway. Not to get out of the plane’s way, but to make as tight a turn as possible without losing too much speed, preparing to come in under the aircraft.