tougher time as it ran into the frame supporting the enormous structure. Even braced, Eddie was still pitched out of his chair as the M60 was almost dragged to a halt, ensnared in the tangled gridwork. The diesel snarled, the tracks shrieking as they fought for purchase – then suddenly the behemoth ripped itself loose and slithered out on to the runway. Wreckage crashed down behind it.
Off to one side, he saw the Learjet. He briefly thought about crippling it, but remembered that Abbot and his co-pilot were aboard, and that a tank was not a precision weapon – he didn’t want to add murder to the list of charges against himself and Nina. Instead he drove the M60 past it and headed down the valley.
‘We made it!’ Nina shouted. ‘We got out!’
‘We’re out of the hangar,’ he replied, ‘but it’s about ten miles to the nearest road, and we’ve only got a teacup of diesel left.’ The fuel gauge was now on empty.
She clambered through the connecting passage into the driver’s compartment. ‘How many miles per gallon does this thing get?’
‘None. It’s more like gallons per mile.’
‘So, not exactly a Prius, then.’ She looked through the peri-scopes. The dust-covered runway stretched away to the southern end of the valley. Even at the tank’s top speed, it would be another couple of minutes before they reached open desert. ‘How far will we be able to get?’
As if in answer, the diesel’s roar momentarily hiccuped. The engine was straining to draw the last dregs of fuel into its cylinders. ‘At a guess, maybe, er . . . fifty yards?’
He checked the valley walls. Off to the runway’s left they were too steep to climb, almost cliffs, but those on the right were lower and more accessible, with potential for concealment. The downside was that going that way would take them deeper into the enormous military range, in the direction of Groom Lake and Area 51.
But there was no other choice. He angled the M60 across the runway towards the lower western side of the valley. The engine coughed again as its insatiable thirst drained the fuel tank dry. Their speed began to drop.
‘Shit, we’re not even going to reach the bottom of the hill,’ he realised. ‘Go back into the turret and open the top hatch. Soon as we stop, get out and run for that little gully there.’ He pointed at a narrow channel winding up into the brown rocks. ‘I’ll be right behind you.’
Nina retreated to the commander’s position, pulling the lever to unlock the hatch above. She glanced back though a porthole at the gaping hole in the huge door – and saw tiny figures spilling through it. ‘Eddie! They’re coming after us!’
‘In jeeps or on foot?’
‘On foot.’
‘Good – that gives us a few minutes’ start, at least.’ The lack of fuel reaching the choking engine caused a literal death-rattle to echo through the cabin. The M60 slowed sharply. ‘That’s it, we’re done. Get out now!’
Nina forced the heavy hatch open and climbed out on to the top of the turret. Behind her, the massive diesel finally cut out. The squeal of the tracks faded as the tank ground to a standstill. She lowered herself to the hull, then jumped off, running for the gully.
Eddie exited via the driver’s hatch and quickly caught up. ‘Dunno how the fuck we’re going to get out of this one.’
‘No, no no,’ Nina admonished. ‘You’re supposed to say something positive.’
‘I would, but unless somebody offers us a free helicopter ride we’ll have a job.’ They reached the gully and started up it. The ascent was steeper than it had looked from the tank, wind-deposited sand making finding footholds a treacherous task. ‘Head over to your left, it looks a bit easier.’
She hauled herself up to a flatter area of rock, looking back towards the base. The running figures were making worryingly rapid progress. ‘Oh God, they’re catching up! How long before they can shoot at us?’
Eddie followed her up. ‘If any of ’em are good shots, they already can! But they’re air force, so we’re probably safe until they’re within twenty feet . . .’
‘Why do people in one branch of the forces hate everyone in the others more than the people they’re supposed to be fighting?’ Nina gasped as she ran up the slope. A clump of boulders ahead offered temporary cover from gunfire.
Beyond them, a hundred or so yards distant, rose a ridge. ‘We need to get over that,’ said