36: A Novel (35 page)

There were heating instructions printed on a label stuck to the outside and I got the first one going in the microwave.  As it heated, I poked around until I found plates, forks, knives and napkins. 

“Hungry?”  I called to Julie after sticking my head around the bulkhead that separated the cabin from the galley.

“Yes,” she said without looking up from her phone.

As the food continued to warm, I thought about the conversation we’d just had.  Well, it hadn’t been much of a conversation.  It was mostly me telling the story of the past decade or so of my life. 

Did she believe me?  Hell, could she believe me?  Was what I said really any less fantastical than if I’d told her I was from an alien civilization, here to save the world?  A soft beep from the microwave interrupted my thoughts.

I removed the first tray and put the second one in, starting it heating.  Unwrapping the steaming food, I transferred it to what I was almost certain was expensive China.  The flatware was solid and heavy and I was willing to bet it was sterling silver.  Only the best for the charter air traveler, I guess.

Soon the second tray was done, and I quickly had the food on another plate and carried both back into the cabin.  Julie was staring at her phone, occasionally swiping the screen with her fingertip as she read something.  I put the plates on the table, went back to the galley and returned with two bottles of water.  As much as I’d have enjoyed another drink, I needed to be clear headed when we arrived in DC.

Sitting, I began eating in silence, letting Julie do whatever it was she was doing.  She knew the food was there and would eat when she was ready.  I, on the other hand, was famished.  Every bite vanished quickly and I sat back and drank most of one of the waters.

Julie put her phone away and stood up.  Stepping around the table she leaned over me and lifted her hands, pausing with them only inches from my face.

“May I?”  She asked before touching me.

“What are you doing?”

“I want to see something,” she said.

I looked at her for a moment before shrugging.

“Go ahead.”

She began examining my head and face.  Gently probed with her fingers and leaned close for a better look at the skin behind my ears and under my jaw.  She moved hair aside and inspected my scalp, then pressed on the bridge and tip of my nose.  As she checked me over I caught a whiff of a subtle perfume and barely resisted the urge to reach up and wrap her in my arms.

“Well, at least that part of your story is true,” she said, returning to her seat and picking up her fork.  “You’ve definitely had extensive plastic surgery.”

“You should see me when I don’t shave,” I grinned.  “I look like Patches the Poodle.”

Despite everything, she smiled.  I decided it was time for me to shut up.  There wasn’t anything else I could say to prove I was telling the truth.  It was up to her to think about what I’d told her and make up her own mind.  I’d truthfully answer any questions she asked, but other than that there wasn’t anything else I could do.

“You were better looking before your face was changed,” she said.

“What?”

“I looked you up on the internet.  Figured there would be plenty of stories about a cop killer who was executed.  There were.  Found your real name, too.  Robert.”

I blushed, not wanting her to know how much I liked hearing my real name.  Or how much I liked hearing her say it.

“But what I found was a very different version of events than what you told me.”

I started to open my mouth to protest, staying quiet when she held her hand up for me to stop.

“I believe you,” she said, looking me in the eye.  “Lord help me, I don’t know why, but I believe you.  As wild and crazy as your story sounds, I do.  Honestly, I’m struggling with the whole time travel thing, but the rest of it rings true.  Especially after some of the things I’ve seen.”

“Thank you,” I said.  “And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“Actually, I’m not sure I blame you,” she said.  “If you’d told me any of this right off the bat, I’d probably have dismissed you as a crank.”

She put the last bite of food in her mouth and chewed slowly.  Wiping her lips with the linen napkin, she sat back and took a sip of water.  We sat there looking at each other for a while, the silence stretching out but not growing uncomfortable.  Finally, I checked my watch and cleared my throat.

“Three hours to DC.  We’d better get some rest.  I don’t think we’ll have time for a nap once we’re on the ground.”

Julie nodded and took our plates to the galley.  Back in the cabin, she poked around and found blankets and pillows.  Tossing one of each into my lap, she sat down and belted herself in.  A large button on the side of her chair activated a motor that lowered the head and raised the feet until it turned into a bed.  She punched the pillow before putting it under her head, then spread the blanket over her body.

“Goodnight, Robert,” she said, eyes already closed.

I sat there watching her for several minutes.  Wanted to go lean over and gently kiss her.  Thank her for being the only person in the world I could count on.  Gently brush the hair off her face and tell her just how special she was.

I settled for pushing the button on my chair and rolling over to get some rest.

42

My eyes flew open when someone shook my shoulder.  Turning my head, I saw Julie leaning over me, a worried expression on her face.

“Something’s wrong,” she said.

Those two words dumped about a gallon of adrenaline into my system.  Throwing the blanket off, I sat up without bothering to use the button to return the bed into a chair configuration.

“What?”  I whispered.

“I don’t know,” she mumbled, still leaning close to me.  “I woke up when the pilot opened the cockpit door.  He was checking on us.  Saw me open my eyes and immediately slammed the door and locked it.”

“That could be nothing,” I said, hoping she was just jumpy.

“You didn’t see his face when he saw I was awake,” she said.  “He was worried.  Not frightened, but he wasn’t the same smiling guy he’s been.”

“What could be wrong?”  I asked, a bad feeling descending over me as an idea popped into my head.  “You still have internet access?”

Julie grabbed her purse and got her phone.  She tapped a couple of times and squinted at the small screen.

“Yes,” she said a moment later.

“Check your bank account.”

“Why?”  She asked.

“Just do it,” I said.  “See if everything looks normal.”

It didn’t take long for her to look up with fear in her eyes.

“It’s locked,” she said.  “I can’t get in.  That’s never happened before.”

“FBI,” I said.  “They either found those two agents, or they got free.  They checked your bank records and found the transaction for the flight.  Froze your account and called the charter company.  The pilot probably just got a call, checking on his safety and letting him know he had two fugitives on board.”

“What do we do?”  She asked.

I checked my watch.  Forty minutes to DC.  If that’s where we were still going.  For all I knew, the FBI had told him to divert to a different location.  Either way, there were going to be men with guns waiting for us when we landed.  The only question was whether they’d be there to arrest us, or kill us. 

I didn’t voice these thoughts to Julie.  We needed to get control of the pilot.  There was really no other option.  Had to find out where we were going.

“We have to take control,” I said.

“Can you fly?  I can’t,” she said, looking at me like I was crazy.

“I mean we have to get control of the pilot.”

“How?  The cockpit door is locked and I don’t think we can break through.”

I looked around the cabin, an idea taking shape when I spotted an intercom for communicating with the flight deck.

“Call the cockpit on that,” I nodded at the small panel.  “Tell them I’m sick.  No, not sick.  Having a heart attack.  Really sell it.”

“Will that work?”

“Got a better idea?”  I asked.

After a moment she shook her head and stood up.  I reached behind me and drew the pistol, hiding it beneath the blanket as I stretched out on the bed facing the cockpit.  Grabbing a bottle of water off the table, I used it to dampen my face and hair as if I were sweating heavily.  Meeting Julie’s eyes, I nodded.

She did a masterful job of acting.  With terror and panic in her voice, she pleaded with the pilot for help.  He didn’t want to leave the cockpit, and this confirmed for me that our suspicions were correct.  Normally he’d break his neck to get to the side of an ill passenger as quickly as possible.

After almost two minutes of frantic pleading by Julie, the cockpit door cracked open.  I moaned loudly, peering through squinted eyes.  The pilot was still on the flight deck, the door only a foot open as he looked into the cabin.  I groaned, pulling my knees up and acting as if I was writhing in pain.

“Please, help him!”

Julie had heard the door open and now she stood behind me and yelled at the pilot.  She kept it up, sinking to her knees and rubbing her hands across my face and chest like a distraught wife.  Finally, the pilot started to move.  Slowly, the door swung the rest of the way open and he stepped through. 

He approached cautiously, and I was glad to see the cockpit door remained open.  Beyond him, the co-pilot leaned to the side with her head turned, watching.  I’d have to be very careful that she didn’t have an opportunity to jump up and close the door.

Finally, he reached the edge of the bed and knelt down.  Julie had maintained her role, begging for help and pleading with me to be OK.  When the pilot began to reach out to touch me, she grabbed his wrists and held them tightly.

His body blocking the co-pilot’s view, I brought the gun out and pressed the muzzle against his chest.  His eyes opened wide and his mouth fell open in surprise.

“Make a sound and you’re dead,” I whispered, waiting to make sure he was going to comply.  “Where did they tell you to go?”

“Who?  What are you talking about?”  He asked in a shaking voice.

“The FBI.  Last time I’m going to ask nicely.  What did they tell you to do?”

He swallowed a couple of times, sweat popping out on his face.

“Andrews Air Force Base,” he stammered.

Shit!  If we landed on an Air Force Base, Julie and I would never be seen again.

“How far are we?”  I asked.

“Maybe half an hour.”

“OK, listen very closely,” I said.  “I don’t want to hurt you or your co-pilot.  But I will, if you don’t do exactly as I say.  Do you understand?”

He just stared back at me, frozen in fear.

“Tom?  Everything OK?”  The co-pilot called from the cockpit.

“Careful,” I whispered.

He swallowed hard, again, and took a deep breath.

“He’s not doing so good,” he shouted.

“Where can we divert?”  I whispered.

“I don’t know,” he stammered and I ground the muzzle of the pistol against his chest.

“You’d better think of something.  Now,” I said.  “We’re not going to an Air Force Base!”

“Fredericksburg, Virginia,” he said after a moment of panicked thought.

“Stand up slowly and don’t try to run,” I said.  “You can’t move faster than I can shoot.”

He jerked his head up and down in a nod, and slowly stood on trembling legs.

“Now back up,” I said, shifting and getting my feet on the floor.

He was between the open cockpit door and me, and I carefully stood, hoping I was screened from the co-pilot’s view. 

“Back to the cockpit.”

I followed tight against his back as we covered the short distance.  Julie stayed right behind me.  Reaching the open door, I stopped the pilot with a firm hand on his shoulder. 

“Got him?”  I mumbled over my shoulder.

“Yes,” Julie answered quietly, and from the corner of my eye I could see her gun come up and aim at the pilot.

Quickly stepping around him, I moved through the door and pressed the muzzle against the back of the co-pilot’s neck.  She went rigid and let out a tiny squeal of fright.

“There’s a pilot available right outside the door,” I said in my most menacing tone.  “Do as I say and you’ll live.  Otherwise I’ll shoot you and let him take over.”

“Tell me what you want,” she said.  “Just please don’t shoot, mister.  I’ve got a daughter I want to see again.”

“Do what I tell you and don’t try anything foolish and you will,” I said, not liking myself very much at the moment.  “Fredericksburg, Virginia.  Change course, and put us down there.”

“OK,” she said.  “No problem, but I have to call them on the radio.”

“No!”

I tapped her on the neck with the muzzle, stopping her before she could reach the transmit button.  The FBI already knew what plane we were on.  If that plane called in a destination change, they’d know immediately and would be in hot pursuit.

“Where can we land that you don’t need to call ahead?  And don’t fuck with me.  My dad was a retired pilot.  I know there’s smaller airports that don’t have towers.  You can just sit down without any notice.”

“I need to look at the GPS,” she said.  “I’m not from here.  I don’t know the area.”

“Carefully,” I warned.

I watched closely as she began searching for a general aviation airport that wasn’t staffed by the FAA.  It took a few minutes, then she tapped an entry on the screen.

“Gore, Virginia,” she said.  “No tower.  Runway is long enough for us to land safely.  We can be on the ground in ten minutes.”

“Do it,” I said to the co-pilot, then to Julie, “Take him and you two buckle up.”

She herded the pilot away as the jet banked and began to descend.  I bent my knees slightly to absorb some slight turbulence.

“I’m going to stay right here,” I said to the co-pilot.  “Just in case you get any ideas about trying something, like braking hard when we land or suddenly turning, I’m going to keep the muzzle of this gun pressed against the back of your neck. 

“And don’t forget my partner back there.  She’s buckled in.  You might knock me over, but if you do she’ll get you.  Stay cool, do what I’m asking, and you’ll walk away from this with a great story to tell.”