The Last Airship (29 page)

“Well
,
at least he finally did something right.”

“I
won’t lie to you, Mr. Wolfgang. My superiors are pretty upset about the loss of
the virus. They have agreed to uphold the original deal if you help us capture
the terrorist, Abdulla Azzama,” Walker told him.

“And
just how do you expect me to do that?” John asked. “You already know exactly
where he lives. Why don’t you just send in an unmanned drone to take him out?”

Ryan
Walker laughed, and then said, “It’s not as simple as you would imagine.
Abdulla Azzama moves around a lot. Using an unmanned drone, we’d never be quite
certain that we got the right man.”

“So,
tell me, exactly what do you want me to do?”

Walker
then told him the entire plan, and then asked, “Will you do it?”

*

Sam
Reilly watched as the older man came through the open-air gangway into the
gondola. He recognized the man as John Wolfgang, but noted that his blonde hair
was now more white than blonde in color.

Aliana
ran towards her father and threw her arms around him.

“Dad!”

“Aliana!”
John held her tightly to him. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.
Tell me, is it true?” She asked, with tears in her eyes.

John
didn’t say anything at first. He looked almost too ashamed to speak, but he
finally said, “You don’t understand. There was nothing I could do about it.
They threatened your safety. You must believe me, it was never about the money,
I did it all for you, I promise. I’m so sorry.”

She
kissed him and said, “I believe you Dad,” pausing briefly and then said, “Dad,
I want you to meet a friend of mine. His name is Sam Reilly.”

Sam
shook his hand and said, “It’s nice to meet you, sir. Aliana has told me of
many of your extraordinary accomplishments.”

“Thank
you, and it’s good to meet you, too.” John smiled, but his intensely
intelligent blue eyes refused to meet Sam's, and he quickly added, “I’ve also
heard about a few of your accomplishments over the years, as well. Your father,
of course, is a great man.”

“That
he is.” Sam studied the man more closely, and couldn’t help but recall the face
of the man who tried to kill him while he was onboard
Second Chance
.

There
was not a doubt in his mind.

Aliana’s
father tried to kill me.

“I’m
sorry to interrupt you all here,” Ryan said, “but we’re going to have to get a
move on if we’re to reach the rendezvous point within four days. Time is
everything here – we’re going to get one chance only at this.”

“Yes,
of course,” John agreed.

Sam
spent the next few hours explaining all that that he could to help the man who
had tried to kill him. In the end he said: “That’s it. You’ll find it’s pretty
simple. You’ll get the handle of it by the time you get there.”

John
shook his hand. 

This
time, his eyes met Sam's.

“Thank
you. I know how difficult this must have been for you.” It was as much of an
admission of guilt, as John would make. “If I don’t make it, please look after
my little girl. There are few men out there who I believe could be worthy of
her affection. I believe you just might be one of them.”

“I
will, Mr. Wolfgang. You have my word,” Sam said, and his word was just about as
solid as you get, “Good luck. I mean it – I hope you nail this bastard.”

Just
before he and Aliana got off the Magdalena Sam watched as Aliana hugged her
father and told him that she forgave him, for everything.

Middle
East, October 22
^nd

John
Wolfgang had acquired some degree of confidence with the controls of the
Magdalena by the time he reached his destination. His view of the desert oasis
seemed so different from the air than it had a month earlier
,
now that
he was at the controls. 

That
seemed like such a long time ago.

He
lined up the airship with the runway. And it struck him as strange that the airship
should even require a runway to land. Sam had explained the basic aeronautics
of the airship before leaving Italy. In general, it was simple enough that even
a child could keep it in the air, but it required some serious thinking to
ensure that it landed safely without self-destructing.

John
started to sweat as he began to make his descent.

It
was the Middle East after all, and he couldn't deny he’d been sweltering in the
heat for the past two days, but somehow, it seemed that he was sweating even
more so now. He wasn’t sure what he was more frightened of, landing the
Magdalena, or meeting Abdulla in person, under the terrorist's terms. The man
was powerful and used to getting his way in life. It would be a rare day indeed
when someone bested him.

John
just hoped today would be that day.

He
followed the instructions
,
and slowly guided the airship to the ground. 

Next
to him stood a man wearing civilian clothes.  The man was clean shaven, and had
short red hair. He wore loose clothing and helped manage the buoyancy system on
board.

The
man looked at him confidently, and said, “You can do this, Mr. Wolfgang.”

“I’m
not worried about landing,” Wolfgang told him, “I’ll do my part, you just make
sure that you do yours.”

“It’s
a deal,” Lieutenant Commander Ryan Walker replied.

John
gripped the mahogany
steering wheel so hard that the whites of his
knuckles had become clearly visible
.

They
had dropped to an altitude of two hundred feet.

He
would soon be on the ground, and then it would finally all be over – one way or
the other. It was the not knowing that frightened him the most.

“How
will you do it?” Wolfgang asked.

“It’s
better that you don’t know until it’s already been done.” 

“You
mean – you’d rather I didn’t give you away?”

“Yes.
Look, Mr. Wolfgang. We train for this every day. During the few minutes when
the action takes place, we’re not conscious of what we’re doing. It’s only
muscle memory we’ve built up over years of repetitive scenario training that
guides us. We have no idea how you will respond, but I guarantee my men will
successfully complete this mission,” Walker said.

“I
understand.”

“Good.
Now, let’s land this relic and get this over and done with.”

*

John
Wolfgang noted the three armored Bentleys parked along one side of the runway.

“That’ll
be Abdulla there, I suppose,” he said.

“Let’s
hope so,” Walker replied.

“It’s
him. I’m sure he’ll come today. This is too important for him to ignore.”

“We’ve
been closely following this man’s movements for more than ten years. He’s had a
price tag of more than 10 million U.S. dollars on his head for most of that
time. It takes a very cautious man to stay alive despite that kind of
surveillance. His own men are extremely protective of him, with a religious
fanaticism. I would be very surprised if he simply came in on his own.”

“What
should I do if his men want me to leave with him?”

“Then
I suggest you do so,” Walker said.

“Then
what?”

“Then,
you’ll have to convince him to return to the Magdalena. I don’t care how you do
it, but it’s the only chance we have.”

“And
if I can’t?” John asked.

“We
both know the answer to that question, don’t we?”

John
nodded his head, and said, “I suppose we do.”

“Okay,
we’re now at fifty feet. I’ve slowed our rate of descent to ten feet per
minute. I’ll count you in for the last ten feet. Brett is ready at the rear of
the gondola with the anchor ropes. I’m sure Abdulla’s men will want to secure
us to the ground as soon as possible.”

“Copy
that.”

The
Magdalena sank slowly toward the tarmac.

“Ten
feet.”

“Five
feet.”

Next
to him, Ryan Walker gave three small bursts of flame to terminate their
descent.

John
flicked the directional switch, and the propellers swung into reverse.

The
Magdalena slowed its forward and downward momentum until it rested just two
feet off the ground, directly across from the armored Bentleys.

Several
men ran up to the Magdalena, and took all four of the anchor ropes, tying two
of them to the cars and the other two around large wooden stakes, which were
rapidly being hammered into the sandy ground by two other men.

Then,
between the twenty or more men, the Magdalena was pulled out of the sky until
it was held firmly on the ground.

“Well,
here goes…” John said, walking to the door of the pilot house.

“Good
luck,” Walker said. “You’ll be fine.”

John
opened the pilot house door and stepped out onto the open-air gangway. He held
his hands up and apart to show that he wasn’t carrying a weapon.

He
noted that there were now more than a hundred men on the ground surrounding the
Magdalena. 

All
of them were armed with rifles.

Several
men then quickly came to meet him, one of whom told him, “We would like to come
on board and make certain that the ship is safe before our master enters.” The
man spoke in broken English, but with a confidence that more than made up for
it.

“Understood.
Help yourself. I have two of my men on board, and they will show you around.”

“Very
good, please tell them to come out here, too.”

“Okay,”
John agreed. “Ryan, Brett. Come on out here so that they can see you.”

I
really hope this isn’t the part where they machine gun us all to death.

John
fervently hoped that Lieutenant Commander Walker was correct when he told him
that the virus was too valuable for them to risk hurting him.

After
several minutes each of the men returned after searching the ship.

“My
apologies, but it was a necessary task. As you know, my master has been
threatened from time to time.”

“That’s
okay. I understand,” John said. “Would you like to invite your master into the
passenger gondola where we can discuss the final arrangements for the transfer
of the virus?”

“Yes,
of course. He will come with his guards.”

“Of
course.”

The
man then signaled someone near the car, and a confident Abdulla Ashama exited
the vehicle and walked out to greet him.

Abdulla
entered the Magdalena, escorted by five heavily armed men wearing balaclavas.

“My
apologies, Mr. Wolfgang. These are members of my elite personal guard. I hope
you do not take offense to them being present.”

“No,
I understand,” John replied. “This is my co-pilot, Ryan and his assistant,
Brett.”

The
man nodded his acceptance, but otherwise took no notice of John’s two crewmen.

“How
is your daughter, Aliana?” Abdulla asked.

“She
is well. And your family, how are they?”

“Good,”
Abdulla commented. “Last time we spoke of the other contents on board… please,
humor me, what were they?”

John
thought seriously about where this question was going. Abdulla had previously
stated that he cared little about the artifacts aboard the Magdalena, and then
said, “There was more than ten million dollars in gold bullion on board, a
diamond which has yet to be appraised, but which must be worth several million
dollars, and there was a multitude of other precious gems as well. Their value
is entirely irrelevant when compared to the agreed-upon price for the virus and
its vaccine. Like the A-bomb dropped on Hiroshima
,
this virus will alter
the position of the world’s superpowers so greatly that they will have no
choice but to cower and comply with your demands.” 

Abdulla
stopped suddenly.

“Please
forgive me, but I am not the man you should be talking to,” Abdulla said.

Oh
shit – they know!

John
had no idea what his next move should be or how he could even warn the Navy
SEALs who were there.

One
of the armed men, standing behind the rich oil Sheik began to remove his
balaclava and stepped forward.

“Alkmaar,
you have served me well. You may now take your normal place.” After removing
his balaclava, he revealed himself as the true Abdulla Ashama. “Now, I wish to
talk to my friend Mr. Wolfgang,” he said.

The
entire thing had been a ruse on their part to ensure the safety of Abdulla.

“I’m
hurt that you didn’t trust me,” John said.

“I
didn’t, but now I see that you are a man of your word,” the real Abdulla said,
and then continued, “Mr. Wolfgang, I had my doubts that you would be able to
locate it, but I never thought in a million years that you would show up with
the Magdalena herself, right at my doorstep.”

“It
gladdens me to see that I have pleased you
,
my friend,” John said
obsequiously.

“So,
it has survived all this time?”

“Yes.”

“May
I see it?” Abdulla asked.

“Of
course.”

John
reached into the compartment beneath the seat and withdrew a metallic suitcase.

An
electronic keypad was located at its base, and John tapped more than twenty
keys in quick succession. A green light flashed, indicating that the correct
sequence had been entered, and then the suitcase snapped open automatically.

In
the middle of the suitcase lay three vials of an almost entirely clear
substance.

“For
a substance so powerful this appears to be rather small,” Abdulla said, making
no attempt to hide his disappointment.

“They
are small, but don’t forget that a nuclear bomb works by only minute, subatomic
particles and yet still it has the ability to level entire cities.”

“Of
course, of course,” Abdulla said, nodding his head. “And the vaccine?”

John
didn’t reply immediately.

Instead
,
his hands reached below the same hidden space, below the seat, and withdrew
a second metallic case. After repeating the same process as the first, he opened
it for Abdulla to see.  

This
one housed a laptop computer and a satellite phone. He switched it on and the
image of a bank in Zurich appeared on the monitor.

“I
would like you to transfer the money into this account. Once I have confirmed
that the final 10 billion dollars has been deposited
,
I will provide you
with the antidote to the virus,” John said.

“You
seem like a fair man to me. But how can I trust you to complete the transaction
after I have transferred the entire amount to your bank?”

“Well,”
John said, looking out of the large glass windows at the men who now surrounded
the Magdalena, “I should think that if I fail to provide you with the antidote
after I’ve received payment, you will kill me, probably after first torturing
me. No, I think you can trust me to make good on our deal.”

Abdulla
laughed again. It was a big hearty laugh from a man who was unaccustomed to men
speaking to him so frankly.

Abdulla
then picked up his own phone and began to speak rapidly into it in Arabic. 

Afterwards,
he looked back at John, and said, “Okay John, it will be done.”

“Very
good.”

About
three minutes later John watched as his computer registered the 10 billion
dollar funds transfer. A quick phone call to his personal bank manager assured
him that the money had been successfully deposited.

“Are
you satisfied?” Abdulla asked.

“Yes,
very.”

John
opened a trapdoor located beneath his seat and extracted a third suitcase. Upon
opening it, Abdulla could see that the suitcase held 100 hypodermic syringes of
the vaccine, with the needles attached.

“As
you can see,” John said, “I was more cautious with the vaccine than I was with
the virus.”

“So,
this is goodbye then,” Abdulla said. “It’s been a pleasure doing business with
you, Mr. Wolfgang.”

Then,
he stood up as he and his men turned to leave.

Abdulla
clutched at his chest.

Shock
and dismay could be seen, planted firmly in his eyes, as Abdulla came to the
abhorrent realization that he had been betrayed.