London

The black airship had been drifting in silence, riding the wind to this high rendezvous while the defenders of Batmunkh Gompa were busy with fires and explosions. Now her engines burst into life, churning the drifting snowflakes and drowning out Tom’s cry of horror.
Valentine walked out along the barrel of a rocket launcher as nimbly as an athlete on a bar and sprang, spread-eagling himself for an instant on the naked air before his hands found the rope ladder that Pewsey and Gench had lowered for him. Catching it, he swung himself up into the gondola.

Tom ran forward, and was plunged into sudden darkness as the searchlight snapped off. Rockets from higher batteries came sparkling down to burst against the Elevator’s thick hide. One shattered some glass in the gondola, but the black airship was already powering away from the Wall. The backwash from its propellers slammed into Tom’s face as he knelt over Anna Fang, shaking her in the dim hope that she might wake

Chapter 29: Going home, Mortal Engines, 121/152 pg

Chrome smiles. “I was hoping you’d say that. One of my Guild’s Goshawk 90 reconnaissance
airships has been made ready for you. The pilots will retrace the city’s tracks until you find where the girl fell. If she and her companion are dead, all well and good. If they are alive, kill them. Bring their bodies to me.”

“and then?” asks the voice.

“And then, Shrike,” Crome replies, “I will give you your heart’s desire

Chapter 7: High London, Mortal Engines