36: A Novel (36 page)

“I’m no hero.  I just want this over with.”

“Smart lady,” I said.

I watched the gauges as she flew, finally spotting the altimeter.  We were descending rapidly for a landing.  I just hoped there was time once we were on the ground to get out of the area before the FBI showed up.

“When we get a little closer, I have to dial in that frequency and press the transmit button on the radio,” the co-pilot said, pointing at the screen.  “Unmanned airport.  That’s how I get the runway lights to come on.”

I did actually know this, remembering listening to my dad and his pilot buddies telling stories when I was little.  I told her that was fine and a minute later she did.  There was a several second delay, then a lighted runway appeared in the darkness ahead of us.

She landed the plane so gently I barely felt the bump as the landing gear touched the tarmac.  Braking cautiously, she slowed the jet and steered onto a taxiway.  Following it, she brought us to a stop near a terminal building not much larger than a convenience store.

“Shut down and move back into the cabin,” I ordered.

She threw several switches and the engines quickly spooled down to silence.  She removed her headphones and started to unbuckle her flight harness, but I stopped her.

“Power it all the way down.  No need to be emitting any signals,” I said.

She pressed some more buttons and the instruments all went dark, one of them whining down the musical scale as it came to a stop.  Harness off, I stepped back to give her room.  I pointed at the door, and she opened it, the stairs automatically unfolding and deploying to the ground.

“Can you watch them?”  I asked Julie.

“Yes, but why?  What are you doing?”

“Going to find something to restrain them so they don’t call the cops the second we leave.”

I descended the steps, moving away from the jet.  It was warm and humid in Virginia, the fresh air invigorating.  I looked around, but the airport was dark.  Shut down for the night.  No one was around and other than frogs and insects singing in the surrounding forest, it was quiet.

Gaining entry into one of the two hangars was simple.  Once inside, I looked around until I found what I needed.  Gathering up some medium weight chains and a few padlocks with keys sticking out of them, I returned to the plane and climbed aboard.  Julie had the two pilots seated in the main cabin, and I quickly secured each of them to their seats and snapped padlocks in place.

“I’m sorry about this,” I said, making sure they couldn’t slip the chains and there wasn’t enough slack to allow them to reach anything that could be used to call for help or break free.  “Someone will be along in a few hours.  You’ll be fine until then.”

“You’re not going to kill us.”

The co-pilot made it a statement, not a question.  I paused, looking at the relieved expression on her face.

“Don’t know what the FBI told you about me, but whatever it was probably isn’t true,” I said.  “I don’t kill people that aren’t trying to hurt me or someone else.  Thanks for the flight.  I’ll be sure to leave a good review and use your company again.”

I don’t know why I said that.  Probably just needed a little relief after the tension of forcing them to land the plane.  I guess we all did as both of them began laughing in nervous giggles.  Behind me I heard Julie snort.  Turning, I lead the way out of the aircraft and into the night.

43

Once outside, I raised the stairs and secured the cabin door before retrieving the suitcase from the luggage hold.  Lifting it out, I gently placed it on the ground and paused, tilting my head up towards the dark sky.  Something, barely audible, was making noise on the horizon.  I listened for a moment, then fear coursed through me when I remembered the briefing I’d received from Carpenter about the assassination.

The analysts believed the Hellfire missile that had killed the President had been fired from a helicopter.  And I was pretty sure the faint sound I was hearing was the sound of a rotor.  Could they have more than one missile?  Would they be willing to use it to stop me and sound the alarm that there was someone out there with a Hellfire in their possession?  I didn’t want to find out the hard way.

“Run!”  I hissed to Julie.

Snatching the suitcase off the ground, I sprinted away from the parked jet.  Julie was on my heels, and I was gratified to see that she hadn’t wasted time wanting to know why I was panicking.  We were halfway to the hangar where I’d found the chains and locks when there was a whooshing sound behind us.  Then we were picked up and propelled through the air by a massive explosion.

The force of the blast wave was tremendous.  I tumbled through the air, my brains nearly scrambled.  Falling to the tarmac, I rolled until striking the base of the hangar wall.  Somehow I’d managed to hold onto the suitcase and it slammed into my head when I came to an abrupt stop.

I don’t know how long I lay there, aware the chartered jet was burning furiously, unable to make my body start moving again.  Sounds were muted from the pummeling my eardrums had received, and I hoped they hadn’t been ruptured by the violence of the explosion.

Suddenly, full awareness and control returned and I realized I was in danger of being cooked by the raging fire.  The heat was blistering, the air around me so hot that it hurt to take a breath.  Sitting up, I looked around for Julie.  She was twenty feet away, apparently still stunned or unconscious as she lay against the hangar wall.

Scrambling to my feet, I rushed towards her.  The side of my body facing the jet felt as if it were being roasted and I ducked and turned my face away as I ran.  There was a large secondary explosion from the devastated aircraft, and I was nearly flattened again.

Reaching Julie, I slowed long enough to grab her wrist.  I knew enough to not move someone who’s been injured.  Understood that she could have suffered a neck or spine injury from the initial blast, and that moving her could make the damage worse.  But if I didn’t get us clear of the fire, we were both going to be burned to death.  I didn’t even consider not moving her.

Holding tight to her wrist with one hand, and the suitcase with the other, I dragged her unconscious form behind me as I headed for the corner of the hangar.  Making the turn, the tall, metal structure shielded us from the searing heat and the air instantly cooled.  Still moving, I pulled her to the midpoint of the wall, putting the majority of the large building between us and the inferno.

Dropping the suitcase, I came to a stop and leaned over Julie.  It was pitch black in the shelter of the hangar and I couldn’t see anything.  Carefully, I reached out and touched her body.  Gently, I moved my hands over her limbs, afraid at any moment I’d feel a deformity that would mean a broken bone.

Both legs felt fine and I fumbled around until I was able to check her arms.  Also good.  I began working my way down her torso from her shoulders, tentatively pressing lightly on her ribs, then placed my hand flat on her abdomen.  If she had any damaged organs, I might be able to tell by feel. 

But that would mean she was bleeding internally and there wasn’t anything I could do to help.  I snatched my hands away in surprise when she suddenly spoke from the darkness.

“If you grab my tits, I’m going to kick your ass,” she said, then slowly sat up with a groan.

I helped her, a small amount of reflected firelight allowing me to see a grimace of pain on her face.  We needed to get away from here.  The explosion and fire would almost certainly have been noticed, and emergency crews were probably already on the way.  We didn’t have much time.  But what about the helicopter?

Was it hanging around, waiting to finish us off?  Was it possible they had a third missile?  Hell, they’d obviously had a second one.  There was no reason to think they couldn’t have a third.  But maybe they wouldn’t want to stick around and risk being seen. 

This wasn’t exactly a third world battlefield, or even the empty Arizona desert.  We were only a couple of hours’ drive from the nation’s capital, and they’d just blown up a jet sitting at an airport.  The response was going to be massive.  No, I was pretty sure they’d probably already gotten the hell out of the area.  And that’s exactly what we needed to do.

“Can you stand?”  I asked.  “We need to get out of here before the cops and fire department start showing up.”

“I’m OK,” Julie said, extending her hands for me to help her up.

I grasped them and pulled slowly, not wanting her to get to her feet too fast.  Despite the caution, she swayed dangerously and I grabbed her shoulders to steady her and keep her from crashing back onto the ground.

“I’m fine,” she said a few moments later.

I relaxed my grip, but didn’t move my hands.  If she wasn’t fine, I didn’t want her falling.  But she was apparently good to go.  Reaching up, she took my hands in hers and removed them from her shoulders.

“Really, I’m OK,” she said.  “How are we going to get out of here?”

“Have to find a car,” I said, bending and grabbing the suitcase.

One of the wheels on the bottom had been torn off and it wouldn’t roll along behind me.  Slapping the handle into place, I picked it up and headed for the far side of the hangar with Julie right behind me.

The building separated the tarmac from a small parking lot.   It was empty.  Coming to a stop, I turned a slow circle, surveying the area.  Not a single vehicle to be found.

“What now?”  Julie asked, then squeezed my arm and pointed to the left.

Headlights were approaching.  Fast.  Grabbing her hand, I led the way to a thick hedgerow that bordered the side of the parking lot.  It was only about five feet tall and we had to duck behind the dense foliage to conceal ourselves from the new arrival.

I peered over the top, watching as a Ford Explorer turned into the parking lot with a squeal of tires.  It screeched to a stop and a man jumped out and ran a few steps towards the tarmac before coming to a halt and staring at the burning aircraft.

“Hear that?”  Julie whispered.

A moment later, I did.  Sirens.  Faint, but growing closer by the second.  Any moment, cops and firemen were going to descend on the scene, and the chances of staying undetected were very slim.  Besides, we were on the clock and didn’t have time to hide.  We needed to move.

“Stay here,” I whispered.

Leaving the suitcase with Julie, I ran around the end of the hedge and came up behind the man.  He’d left the driver’s door of the Explorer open, the dome light illuminating the interior.  As I passed the vehicle, I glanced inside to make sure he was alone.  Glad to see he was, I drew the pistol and stopped ten feet behind him.

“I need your vehicle,” I said in a loud voice.

His head snapped around in surprise, his eyes going wide when he saw the weapon in my hand.   

“Take it,” he raised his hands in a protective gesture.  “Just don’t hurt me!”

“FBI,” I said, holding out one of the ID’s I’d taken off the two agents at Julie’s apartment.  “This is an urgent matter of national security.  I need you to get in and drive me out of here.  Now.  Let’s go!”

His mouth was still open in shock as he stood immobile, staring at the badge case.  The sirens were growing louder and it was only a matter of seconds before they would be close enough to see us. 

“Now!”

I shouted at him and pointed the pistol directly at his face.  He gulped, then nodded and began walking forward.  I stepped back, keeping some space between us, shouting for Julie to get in the Explorer.  She came at a run, raising the back gate and tossing the suitcase in.  The man had paused when he saw her appear out of the dark, but I barked at him and guided him to the rear passenger door.

“I thought you wanted me to drive,” he said in a shaking voice.

“Get in,” I said, noticing Julie running towards the burning plane.

“What are you doing?”  I shouted at her.

“My purse,” she yelled back, throwing her arm up to shield her face from the blistering heat. 

She ran to the corner of the hangar and scooped the bag off the ground where it had wound up after the explosion.  Racing to where I stood, she headed for the front passenger seat.

“No,” I said.  “In back, behind the driver’s seat.  Keep your eye on him while I drive.”

She ran around the back and jumped in, pistol in her left hand so it was as far away from the man as she could get it in case he decided to try and disarm her.  I jumped behind the wheel, the sirens now so loud I didn’t understand why I couldn’t see the approaching vehicles.

Slapping the Explorer into gear, I cut the wheel and hit the gas.  We screamed through a tight turn and approached the road.  To the left I caught a glimpse of red and blue strobes through thick trees.  Turning right, I shut off the lights so there were no taillights to give us away, and floored the SUV’s accelerator.

We roared into the darkness.  A couple of seconds later, bright headlights and flashing emergency beacons appeared in the mirror.  They were close enough for the Ford to be visible, but I was fairly confident all eyes were on the flaming wreckage of the jet.

I nearly turned us over when a sharp curve suddenly appeared.  Driving fast at night, without lights, is a dangerous endeavor.  Somehow, I got the vehicle under control without killing us.  Glancing in the mirror I could see the glow of the fire over the tops of the trees that lined the road, but we were out of a direct line of sight to the airport.

Turning the lights on, I slowed and took a deep breath.  Ahead, a narrow ribbon of asphalt disappeared into the darkness, dense forest pressing in on both sides of the road.  Soon another curve came up.  This time I was able to see it, slowing enough to negotiate the turn without any dramatics.

“What’s going on?  Who the hell are you people?”  The guy in the back seat asked.

“FBI,” I said in a strong, authoritative voice.  “I apologize for frightening you, but this is an emergency.”

“Fine,” he said.  “Pull over and let me out.  The car’s yours.  Take it.  I don’t want nothin’ to do with whatever’s going on!”