complained.
“Nobody said they weren’t!” Kane, Brigid and Grant responded in unison.
Chapter 4
Serra do Norte, Brazil
Eighteen hours later, two slope-winged aircraft shot across the skies over the Juruena River, vying for position in the cloudless sky.
Identical in appearance, the aircraft were constructed from a bronze-hued metal that glimmered in the early-morning sunlight. Their graceful designs consisted of flattened wedges with swooping wings curving out to either side in mimicry of the seagoing manta ray, which was why they were called Mantas. Each Manta’s wingspan was twenty yards, and its body length was almost fifteen feet. The entire surface of each vehicle was decorated with curious geometric designs: elaborate cuneiform markings, swirling glyphs and cup-and-spiral symbols. Aerodynamically flat in design, each vehicle featured an elongated hump in the center of the body, which provided the only indication of a cockpit.
Graceful as they appeared, right now the two craft were involved in what appeared to be deadly combat. The lead vehicle swept dangerously low over the canopy of trees, kicking up leaves in its wake. Its trailing companion followed it move for move, nose cannon spitting a steady stream of bullets as its pilot sought to knock it out of the skies.
Inside the lead vehicle, Grant jerked the joystick to the left, sending his craft away to port in a turn so sharp that the Manta appeared to stand on one wing for a moment. He wore an all-encompassing helmet, colored bronze like the craft and locked into the back of the pilot’s seat. A small oxygen supply was attached to it.
Grant was also dressed in a shadow suit, a body glove made from an incredibly durable fabric that acted as armor without hindering movement in the slightest. The shadow suit could deflect knife blades and redistribute kinetic impact. Microfilaments in the weave regulated the wearer’s body temperature to keep the wearer comfortable in extremes of temperature, and the shadow suit also offered protection from environmental threats. Grant had augmented the shadow suit with camo pants and he had also brought a long duster coat, which was folded on the backseat in the two-man cockpit.
With a growl, Grant yanked at the joystick again, reeling as a series of bullets from his pursuer kicked against the back fins with a rattle like dice on a craps table.
“Son of a...” he spat out. “Give me some space to climb already.”
Grant’s pursuer didn’t hear the instruction, though if he had there was a reasonable chance he would have ignored him. Evidently, he was set on bringing Grant’s craft down, preferably as a fireball.
Grant urged more power to the engine as he pulled back on the stick, sending his Manta up in a near-vertical climb, grimacing at the sudden increase in g-forces inside the cockpit. Internal gravity compensators would kick in in a moment, he knew, but for the next few seconds he would feel as if he weighed as much as a blue whale.
“The next time Shizuka tells me she’s worried about her weight,” Grant muttered to himself, “she’s going up in one of these things.”
* * *
I NSIDE THE TRAILING VEHICLE , Kane tapped something on the control board, cutting his speed to a whisker below 100 miles per hour, allowing Grant breathing space to gain a little extra distance as he stood his Manta on its tail.
“You go for it, pal,” Kane muttered. “Keep running—let’s make it look good.”
Kane was also dressed in a shadow suit, to which he had added a simple denim jacket and camo pants.
The Mantas were very ancient and they had been in use when the Annunaki had first invaded Earth many millennia ago. The two that now flew in an elaborate game of cat and mouse over the Brazilian countryside had been acquired by the Cerberus team for long-range missions after being discovered where they had been left discarded on Earth thousands of years before. They’d be found by CAT Team Alpha during one of
“Nobody said they weren’t!” Kane, Brigid and Grant responded in unison.
Chapter 4
Serra do Norte, Brazil
Eighteen hours later, two slope-winged aircraft shot across the skies over the Juruena River, vying for position in the cloudless sky.
Identical in appearance, the aircraft were constructed from a bronze-hued metal that glimmered in the early-morning sunlight. Their graceful designs consisted of flattened wedges with swooping wings curving out to either side in mimicry of the seagoing manta ray, which was why they were called Mantas. Each Manta’s wingspan was twenty yards, and its body length was almost fifteen feet. The entire surface of each vehicle was decorated with curious geometric designs: elaborate cuneiform markings, swirling glyphs and cup-and-spiral symbols. Aerodynamically flat in design, each vehicle featured an elongated hump in the center of the body, which provided the only indication of a cockpit.
Graceful as they appeared, right now the two craft were involved in what appeared to be deadly combat. The lead vehicle swept dangerously low over the canopy of trees, kicking up leaves in its wake. Its trailing companion followed it move for move, nose cannon spitting a steady stream of bullets as its pilot sought to knock it out of the skies.
Inside the lead vehicle, Grant jerked the joystick to the left, sending his craft away to port in a turn so sharp that the Manta appeared to stand on one wing for a moment. He wore an all-encompassing helmet, colored bronze like the craft and locked into the back of the pilot’s seat. A small oxygen supply was attached to it.
Grant was also dressed in a shadow suit, a body glove made from an incredibly durable fabric that acted as armor without hindering movement in the slightest. The shadow suit could deflect knife blades and redistribute kinetic impact. Microfilaments in the weave regulated the wearer’s body temperature to keep the wearer comfortable in extremes of temperature, and the shadow suit also offered protection from environmental threats. Grant had augmented the shadow suit with camo pants and he had also brought a long duster coat, which was folded on the backseat in the two-man cockpit.
With a growl, Grant yanked at the joystick again, reeling as a series of bullets from his pursuer kicked against the back fins with a rattle like dice on a craps table.
“Son of a...” he spat out. “Give me some space to climb already.”
Grant’s pursuer didn’t hear the instruction, though if he had there was a reasonable chance he would have ignored him. Evidently, he was set on bringing Grant’s craft down, preferably as a fireball.
Grant urged more power to the engine as he pulled back on the stick, sending his Manta up in a near-vertical climb, grimacing at the sudden increase in g-forces inside the cockpit. Internal gravity compensators would kick in in a moment, he knew, but for the next few seconds he would feel as if he weighed as much as a blue whale.
“The next time Shizuka tells me she’s worried about her weight,” Grant muttered to himself, “she’s going up in one of these things.”
* * *
I NSIDE THE TRAILING VEHICLE , Kane tapped something on the control board, cutting his speed to a whisker below 100 miles per hour, allowing Grant breathing space to gain a little extra distance as he stood his Manta on its tail.
“You go for it, pal,” Kane muttered. “Keep running—let’s make it look good.”
Kane was also dressed in a shadow suit, to which he had added a simple denim jacket and camo pants.
The Mantas were very ancient and they had been in use when the Annunaki had first invaded Earth many millennia ago. The two that now flew in an elaborate game of cat and mouse over the Brazilian countryside had been acquired by the Cerberus team for long-range missions after being discovered where they had been left discarded on Earth thousands of years before. They’d be found by CAT Team Alpha during one of
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