Third Transmission Read Online Free PDF

would take less than twenty seconds for them to break through. He turned back to the doorway. The helicopter was coming, but not fast enough. It was still at least a minute away.
    For a crazy second he wondered if the heavy-pressure diving suits on the rack would be thick enough to protect him from the rain. He grabbed one and felt the rough material. No. The acid would eat through it in five seconds, then he’d have maybe another ten before he was dead from the burns.
    Six gritted his teeth. He had three options. One: stay where he was and get shot to bits by the soldiers. Two: run outside and get eaten alive by the acid rain.
    Three: surrender.
    Thunder boomed overhead. The first hinge broke off the hatch with a grimy
clank
. One more to go.
    If Six surrendered, he would never see daylight again. Assuming he survived the detonation of the SOL-bomb, he would be tortured, so ChaoSonic could learn more about the Deck. Then he would be experimented on, so they could get more data about Project Falcon. Then he would be executed, or sold to the highest bidder, one organ at a time.
    The Deck would be overrun. ChaoSonic would have complete control. The City would fall apart.
    But what choice did he have? Dead later was better than dead now. A little hope was better than none.
    He raised his phone. ‘Kyntak,’ he said.
    â€˜Nearly there, Six,’ Kyntak said. ‘Forty seconds.’
    â€˜No, I –’ Six broke off.
    What could he say? Turn back? I give up, nice knowing you?
    There was another way out of this. It was dangerous – perhaps even insane – but better than surrendering.
    â€˜Change course,’ Six told Kyntak. He pulled the diving suit onto his legs. ‘Line up the chopper so you’re approaching from the bow of the ship. Perfectly in line with the front, got it?’
    â€˜Got it,’ Kyntak said. ‘I have no idea what you’re doing, but good luck.’
    Six put his arms through the sleeves and pulled the helmet over his head. He grabbed the Parrot from his belt before he zipped up the sides.
    Okay. Ready to go.
    Clank
. The other hinge snapped off. Instantly the hatch was shoved half-open. A grenade flew through the gap, and bounced onto the floor of the hangar.
    Six almost laughed. Surrender hadn’t been an option anyway.
    He dashed through the doorway, out into the storm, and headed for the runway.

    The suit was heavy. Running in it was like wading through a shallow swimming pool. Six could hear a
snap, snap
asblobs of acid smacked against the helmet. His breaths were fast and shallow.
    He wouldn’t be able to run all the way to the bow of the ship, jump into the water, and swim out to the approaching helicopter. Not in the fifteen seconds it would take for the acid rain to reach his bones and shred them.
    But the CNS
Gomorrah
was no ordinary ship – it was an aircraft carrier.
    Most fighter jets couldn’t get enough speed to take off from such a short runway. That was why a horizontal rail ran along the centre of the runway, with a metal hook at one end. The wheels of the jet would be attached to the hook, and then an operator on the bridge would push a button, unleashing a burst of pressurised gas underneath the runway. The gas would hit the base of the hook with hundreds of tonnes of force. The hook would shoot along the rail, shoving the jet forwards at supersonic speeds, and firing it off the bow of the ship.
    Six didn’t have a fighter jet. But he didn’t need to take off. He just needed to be hurled far enough to reach the helicopter.
    Boom
. The floor of the ship hummed as the grenade detonated inside the hangar. There was no turning back now. In moments the soldiers would be pouring in through the hatch.
    Six pressed one foot against the top of the hook and stared down into the narrow gap between the rail and the deck. He could see the outline of the gas tank.
    Splat.
Hiss.
The acid was burning through Six’s suit.
    He