Paradise Hacked (First Circle Club Book 2) (41 page)

* * *

Captain Kyle walked into the office of Windy City Helicopter Tours. It was a small building made of cinderblocks. Inadequate heating forced him to keep his coat zipped up.

He walked up to a young woman sitting behind a counter. She was wearing a pink parka and a ski hat.

"Cold in here," he said.

She nodded. "The cheap, crappy heater goes out all the time. Can I help you?"

"I have an emergency situation. My wife is about to give birth in a hospital in Rockford. The highway is all jammed up because of an accident, and a car ride would probably take too long anyway. Can you have one of your pilots fly me out there?"

The woman smiled. "Your first child?"

"Yes," Kyle said. "I'm so nervous I could throw up."

"Of course we'll take care of you. We do special charters all the time."

"Can you hurry?"

Virgil had given Kyle enough cash to cover the cost of the charter flight. After filling out a short form and paying, Kyle went out to a grassy field behind the office. A helicopter was parked on a mobile trailer which also served as a landing pad. Landing the aircraft on such a small target took a lot of skill. He recognized it as a Sikorsky with a turbine engine and seating for four.

A pilot in a blue flight suit was already waiting by the helicopter.

Kyle jogged over and shook his hand. "Hi. I'm Peter."

"Sam," the pilot said. "I heard you're about to have a kid."

"That's right. I need to be in Rockford
now
."

"Then let's get going."

They climbed into the cockpit. The pilot started the engine, and after waiting for the engine to warm up, he took off. Kyle watched how he handled the controls. The setup used modern computer displays, but the flight stick and pedals seemed to work in the standard manner.

As soon as they were safely in the air, Kyle drew a gun from under his jacket. "Change of plans," he said. "Sorry."

The pilot looked over, and his eyes widened. "You're hijacking me?"

"It's an emergency."

Kyle yanked out the plug for the pilot's headset.

"If you shoot me, you won't have a pilot."

"I'm a pilot," Kyle said, "but I don't want to shoot you. Just cooperate, and nobody will get hurt. Fly to the parking structure by the fashion mall. Land on top."

"That's illegal."

"I obviously don't care."

The destination was nearby. It took only a couple of minutes to reach the massive, six-story parking structure. There was plenty of open space for a helicopter to land on top. The stolen minivan was parked there, and smoke was puffing from the tailpipe.

"Land close to the tan van," Kyle ordered. "Leave the engine running."

The helicopter touched down lightly.

Virgil and Lisa got out of the van, ready for battle. They wore Air Force fatigues and Kevlar vests. Pistols, rifles, and grenades decorated their bodies.

"Holy crap!" the pilot said.

"Get out," Kyle ordered.

Virgil grabbed the pilot as soon as he stepped out of the helicopter. Virgil used some rope to tie the pilot's wrists to a light pole. A shopper would notice him eventually. Then Virgil and Lisa climbed into the back seats of the helicopter.

"Can you fly this thing?" Virgil said.

Kyle nodded. "But grab onto something. It may be a little rough at first. I haven't been in a cockpit in a few years."

The minivan drove off with Sara at the wheel. The plan was for her and Mei to meet the rest of the team at a rendezvous point. Their part in the operation was done.

Kyle gently pulled the handle for the collective. The helicopter lifted off, but it spun and wobbled at first. He didn't panic and quickly brought it under control. He let out a sigh of relief.

"Just like riding a bike," he said, "a bike where you have to do three things at once. Here we go."

He tilted the helicopter and flew towards Aladdin's Castle.

* * *

Harlow pushed on his helmet, and the world became quiet. The air blowing from the ventilation system in the suit tickled his ear.

He took a few tentative steps. He had expected the titanium plates to weigh him down and make movement difficult, but the weight was well distributed all over his body. He could walk more or less normally as long as he didn't try to go fast.

His assistants made sure the helmet was properly attached to his neck ring. Harlow waited while they fussed.

"Pressure test, sir," one man yelled through the helmet.

Harlow nodded.

The technicians attached a hose to his suit. It would blow air at three atmospheres of pressure, enough to test all the seals. Harlow heard the compressor start, and it sounded like a lawnmower engine. His ears popped as the pressure increased inside the suit, and the fabric stiffened. He waited for the results of the test.

Technicians were watching the meters, and Harlow could tell from their expressions the results weren't good. They came over and used their ears to find the air leak.

"Hip joint, sir!" a woman yelled. "We have to reseal it."

Harlow sighed and nodded. He began to unlatch his helmet.

* * *

"How long have you been delivering propane?" Cat asked.

"Thirty years," Jeb replied.

The driver of the propane truck was a grizzled, old man with a permanent scowl. Age spots on his bald head reminded Cat of a leopard. He was wearing a plaid hunting jacket with tobacco stains below his chin.

"Doesn't it get boring?"

"Honest work for honest pay," Jeb said.

Cat furrowed her brow.
Honest boredom is still boredom,
she thought.

"Your friend all right back there?" he added. "It's cold, and he isn't wearing a jacket."

She turned her head and looked out the back window of the truck cab. There hadn't been enough room for everybody to ride up front, so Alfred was sitting with the propane tank on a trailer. He was smiling pleasantly as the wind teased his sparse hair.

"He's fine," Cat said. "Are we almost at Aladdin's Castle?"

"We're here."

Jeb drove the truck into an almost empty parking lot. A few news vans were near the front gate of the small amusement park. Reporters and cameramen had gathered together, and some were drinking from foam cups.

"What's going on?" Jeb said.

"I don't know," Cat said. "Stop, and we'll find out."

He parked the truck in the middle of the lot. The two of them got out.

"I'll just wait here," Alfred said from on top of the trailer.

"We won't be long," Cat said.

She and Jeb walked towards the group of reporters. She intentionally stumbled and bumped into him. During the brief contact, she snatched the keys to the truck from his pocket.

"Oh," she said. "I forgot my purse. Hold up for a sec."

She ran back to the truck but climbed into the driver's side this time. She started the engine and drove off.

"Hey!" Jeb yelled. "Bring back my truck!"

* * *

Virgil looked down from his position high in the sky. The Aladdin's Castle amusement park was directly below, and he could see everything. The Rocket to Heaven ride was tucked away in a back corner. People surrounded the ride, and from so far up, they looked like ants. Sentries were scattered around the park in strategic locations with good views of the fence line.

"I see the propane!" Virgil yelled.

He pointed down at a truck pulling a flat trailer. A white propane tank lay on the trailer, secured by thick chains. Alfred was holding onto the chains. The vehicle was working its way around to an open field behind the park.

"I see it, too!" Kyle yelled from the cockpit. "I'll get you into position."

He maneuvered the helicopter until it was directly over a large duck pond. About a hundred yards separated the pond from the Rocket to Heaven ride, and most of that ground was open.

Virgil turned to Lisa. She was grinning, but he also saw concern in her eyes.

"Ready to jump?" he said. "We'll go as soon as we hear the boom."

"What if we miss the water?" she said.

"We can steer a little in the air. Have you ever skydived or used a wind tunnel?"

"No."

"It's easy," he said. "You use your body like an airplane wing. Hang onto my belt, and I'll guide us in. Just relax. Let me do all the work."

She looked out the window and grimaced. "OK."

* * *

Harlow looked up at the helicopter and used his hand to shade his eyes. The aircraft was a couple of thousand feet up, although it was hard to be certain of the distance. The rotors were making an annoying thumping noise.

"Who is that?" he said.

"Probably a news chopper," Colonel Knox said. "Can we get this experiment going finally?"

"I hope so. Let's try that pressure test again. The seals should be good now."

Chapter Twenty-four

Cat parked the truck on the grass outside the fence of the amusement park.

Alfred jumped off the trailer and checked his surroundings. He was in a patch of undeveloped land, and the nearest homes were a nice, safe distance away. He looked through the fence and saw a carousel surrounded by bushes.
This is the right spot,
he thought.

Cat left the cab of the truck.

"Good job," Alfred said. "Now run like hell. Meet us at the rendezvous."

She nodded. "Good luck." She ran off.

He climbed into the cab. The engine was still running.

His first task was finding the road flares. Jeb had claimed a box was under the driver's seat. Alfred dug through smashed coffee cups and empty tobacco tins until he found the wooden box. He pulled it out.

Four flares were inside. Instructions were on the lid. He had never used a flare before, but the steps seemed straightforward. Striking the cap lit the flare just like a big match.

"Here we go," he murmured.

Alfred put the truck into reverse, backed up about fifty feet over grass, slammed the stick shift into first gear, and stomped on the gas pedal. The truck roared forward.

With a satisfying crash, the truck burst through the chain-link fence. He allowed it to roll onwards for a short distance before stepping on the brake.

He grabbed a flare and jumped out of the truck. He knew he would have company soon.

Alfred pulled a demolitions package out of his pocket which Kyle had prepared. Several ounces of C-4 was wired to a timed detonator. Alfred activated the one-minute countdown and pushed the bomb under the propane tank. He made sure the bomb was centered so the propane would spray evenly in all directions.

According to Kyle, the C-4 might ignite the propane, but there wouldn't be a detonation. The fuel would simply burn. To create a catastrophic explosion, a secondary ignition source would have to set off the fuel after it had mixed with the air in just the right ratio. The captain had explained this principle as the basis of a "thermobaric weapon" or a "fuel-air bomb."

Alfred took several big steps away from the truck. He tried to light the road flare, but it was stubborn at first. On the third attempt, he produced a sputtering red flame and threw the flare at the ground.

He ran for the gap in the fence.

Gunshots made him look over his shoulder. A man dressed as a civilian but armed like a soldier was chasing Alfred. Bullets sprayed from a compact assault rifle.

A round hit Alfred in the back, but he kept going. He had to get away from the bomb.

He was half-way across the empty field when he saw a double-flash of light. The C-4 had detonated followed by the propane. The sound arrived an instant later, and the bang was like the world's biggest cannon going off.

The pressure wave which followed lifted him off his feet.

* * *

"Wow," Virgil said. "That was big."

A fireball was rising towards the sky. The blast concussion had flattened buildings and had broken trees for an impressive distance in all directions. A carousel had been reduced to kindling.

"Worked better than I expected," Kyle said. "You had better go."

"Lisa, grab my belt."

Virgil made sure Lisa was holding on with both hands. Then he opened the door of the helicopter and jumped out.

He tumbled for an instant, but then he reached terminal velocity, and the airflow stabilized him. He quickly located the duck pond. He used his body like an airfoil and his hands as steering flaps to guide his fall.

He looked over his shoulder. Lisa was still with him and grinning from ear to ear. The rushing air made her lips flutter.

It took about ten seconds to complete the fall. Virgil dived into cold, murky water.

* * *

Harlow sat up. Some kind of enormous explosion had knocked him off his feet. The fireball was still rising into the sky.

At least his suit and helmet had protected him. Most of the people around him were still flat on the ground and clearly stunned. They were shaking their heads slowly.

Harlow noticed two people falling out of the sky. They had obviously dropped from the helicopter. He couldn't see them actually hit the ground, but there was an impressive spray of water. He remembered a duck pond was in that direction.

He had a sudden, very bad feeling.
They're here.

Harlow forced himself to stand up. He would just have to hope the suit worked as designed after all the last-minute repairs.

He shuffled over to the Rocket to Heaven ride. The controls were simple and obvious. A green button started the motors which lifted the counterweights. A big lever would release the weights and launch the rider. Harlow couldn't be at the control panel and on the ride at the same time, so he needed help.

He spotted Colonel Knox on the ground. Harlow went back to his commander.

"Get up!" Harlow screamed through his helmet. "We're under attack! We don't have any time!"

Knox wasn't moving fast enough. Harlow used all his strength to help Knox get up. The spacesuit hindered the process, but eventually, Knox was on his feet.

"Launch me!" Harlow yelled.

Harlow hurried to the control panel and slapped the green button. Then he went to the cage where the rider sat. The seat had been chopped up to accommodate the suit, but the cuts were rough and uneven. He struggled to get into a good, balanced position inside the cage.