The Last Survivor (A Wilde/Chase Short Story)

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Authors: Andy McDermott
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painted helicopters coming and going in an almost constant stream as they took tourists on aerial tours of the city.
    ‘He’s definitely heading for the heliport,’ Nina confirmed. The Bikeway ran alongside the FDR as the freeway dropped down towards the entrance to the Battery Park tunnel, only open pavement separating them at ground level, but Kroll was sticking to the riverside rather than swerving right to get on to the road.
    ‘We’re not gonna catch him!’ Eddie warned. The police car’s brake lights flared again, Kroll hurling his vehicle sharply through the entrance to the heliport’s parking lot.
    The Nazi might have been inexperienced, but he was also apparently a fast learner, managing to control the skid as he made the turn. A metal gate beside the terminal building restricted access to the pier – but it burst open as the Taurus smashed into it and continued on towards the helipads.
    Unable to make the tight turn into the parking lot, the truck instead slithered to a tyre-smoking stop at the entrance. Eddie jumped out and sprinted after the stolen car. ‘Eddie, wait!’ Nina yelled as she fumbled with her seat belt, but he was already gone. Cursing, she scrambled out after him.
    A red, white and blue helicopter on a pad halfway down the pier was unloading one group of passengers as it prepared to take on another. Kroll aimed the police car straight for it. The waiting tourists and their ground-crew escort stared in confusion and disbelief as the Taurus charged at them, finally fleeing as he slewed to a stop less than ten feet from the chopper.
    The Nazi leapt out, gun in hand. He yanked open the rear door, about to drag Natalia with him, but then saw Eddie clear the terminal building. He spat a German curse, firing a single wild shot that forced the Englishman to duck and swerve, then rushed to the helicopter. It was a Bell LongRanger, a stretched version of the ubiquitous Jet Ranger, with an extra row of seats in its cabin. The port-side hatch to the passenger compartment was still open. Kroll scrambled inside, pulling the door shut.
    The startled pilot looked back at his unscheduled passenger. ‘Hey, what the hell’s goin’ on?’ he demanded in a nasal Bronx accent.
    Kroll glanced back outside. Eddie was still running towards the helicopter, Nina rounding the terminal behind him. Another muttered obscenity, then the Nazi turned to shout at the pilot: ‘Take off! Take off now!’
    ‘I ain’t goin’ anywhere—’
    ‘
Fly!
’ The high seat backs made it impossible for anyone in the passenger compartment to climb forward, but there was still enough of a gap between the headrests for the Nazi to reach through and jam the muzzle of his gun against the pilot’s temple.
    ‘Uh, okay, we’re movin’.’ Face filled with fear, the pilot twisted the throttle to full and pulled up the collective control lever. The LongRanger squirmed with the sudden increase in power, then left the pad.
    Eddie raced towards the helicopter as it took to the air, squinting into the rotor’s gritty downdraught. Twenty feet away, ten, but it was six feet up and climbing fast. A glimpse of Natalia in the back of the police car as he passed told him that she was frightened but apparently unharmed, though there was no time to check on her. ‘Eddie,
stop
!’ Nina cried behind him, but to no avail.
    He threw himself at the aircraft, arms outstretched—
    One hand caught the rear tip of the port-side landing skid as the LongRanger banked away. His shoulder crackled as it took his full weight. He grunted, swinging beneath the fuselage.
    The edge of the pier whipped past below him, the surface of the East River rapidly receding as the chopper gained height. Already thinking he had made a huge mistake, Eddie kicked and twisted, trying to bring up his other arm to get a hold on the skid.
    The pilot let out a yelp as the cabin rocked, hurriedly adjusting the controls to compensate. ‘What was that?’ demanded Kroll.
    ‘I

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