Chapter Forty-Nine
Sweat slithered down Connor's back, which spasmed as he gave the pry bars a final push. The last section of the mangled shuttle tore free of the bulkhead, with a terrible shriek of metal. Fine particles sprayed from the ruined wing segment, leaving a sharp smell of rust mixed with the subtle tinge of fuel.
Finally!
He tossed the pry bars to the deck, where they clanged like bells that rocked the work lights lined along the base of the vehicle.
Dust hung in that light as Connor massaged his back.
His pocket computer chimed.
Of course it did. He pulled his work gloves off. “Go ahead."
Drew was on the screen, her pale, strained face streaked with black grime and perspiration. “Nearly finished in airlock."
“Same here. I need to put the tools away."
Getting the shutt
