Temple of the Gods - Andy McDermott [105]
Eddie turned the tank again to demolish one last truck, then swung it back towards the giant hangar doors. There were other guards ahead, but they were already scurrying for safety. The way out was now clear. The M60 was at its full speed of thirty miles per hour: hardly blistering performance, but with so much weight behind it the armoured vehicle was almost unstoppable. He kept his foot down, glancing at the fuel gauge.
It was practically on empty. Whatever happened, the tank wouldn’t take them much further than the end of the valley outside – if it even got that far.
That would leave them on foot, in the desert . . . not far from Groom Lake, one of the most heavily patrolled and jealously protected military facilities in the United States, if not the world. They were still a long way from being safe.
Before they could worry about that, though, they still had to get out of Silent Peak itself. Nina looked through her periscope. ‘Can this thing break through that door?’
‘It weighs over fifty tons – I don’t think it’ll be a problem. But hang on anyway. There’ll be a bit of a bump.’
‘My husband, master of understatement,’ Nina said. Eddie grinned and psyched himself up for the looming impact. The M60 barrelled straight at the towering doors, a metal wall filling his narrow field of vision—
The gun punched through the steel as if it were paper – but the rest of the tank had a 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