by Drew Lindsay
‘They check in from the big house every two hours,’ said Winston as they moved quickly into the jungle and headed north. ‘That means they’ll know something’s up in less than half an hour by my calculations.’
‘We should be close to the boat by then,’ said Ben. He glanced at his watch. It was just after 3.30 am. The first hint of dawn would appear in the east within half an hour. They kept to the jungle, following Ben’s lead. He had given up stopping to listen. The wind continued to roar through the canopy overhead but the storm had passed.
They reached the aircraft hangar and stopped at the partly open doors. Ben shone his torch over the two light planes. ‘I should disable them, but I think we’re running out of time.’ He could now see the first greying light of dawn in the east through the palm trees. ‘We’ll keep to the edge of the runway. The boat is out past the reef to the left. I’ve got life vests for both of you.’
Again Ben led the way, keeping close to the edge of the runway and moving as fast as was comfortable for Winston to keep up. A gnawing feeling worked at Ben’s stomach. This was far too easy. Something had to go wrong. It always did. He must have been psychic. A dark shape moved in the jungle to his left. Ben stopped so abruptly that Liz collided with his back. He raised the Magnum. The first shot would be the one which alerted everyone on the island that they had visitors. Stealth and secrecy would vanish with a pull of the trigger.
The shape didn’t move. Ben stepped towards it.
A raspy voice came from the shape. ‘I’m hoping that’s Ben Hood, because if it’s not, I’m in deep shit.’
‘Sam?’
The shape materialised from the jungle. Sam walked slowly towards Ben. His chest and arms were badly cut, some of the blood had dried, other of the deeper cuts continued to slowly bleed. His white hair was wet and mattered with blood. Winston reached Ben’s side and then stepped towards Sam. ‘What in God’s name are you doing here old man?’
‘Winston Mackay! It’s really you.’ Sam began to weep. Winston embraced his old friend, ignoring the blood.
‘The boat’s gone,’ wept Sam. ‘The waves just picked it up and snapped the anchor rope. The old bitch was thrown against the reef and broke up. The coral tore me up a bit too.’
‘You’re alive. That’s all that matters,’ said Winston. ‘How did Joy get you to agree to this fool mission?’
‘You know Joy.’
‘I think we’re in a spot of trouble,’ said Winston, turning to Ben. The light from the approaching dawn was now sufficient for each to more clearly see the other.
‘Did you bring your mobile?’ asked Elizabeth.
Ben pointed over his shoulder to the leather bag. ‘It’s there but there’s no range out here. I checked yesterday.’
‘Hello lady,’ said Sam. ‘I’m part of the rescue team.’
Elizabeth smiled. ‘Hello yourself and thank you for risking your life for me.’
‘Well looks like I stuffed the rescue,’ said Sam.
‘Not necessarily.’ Ben was about to say something else but the whisper of a sound stopped him. He knew he only had a split second to react. It was a slight swishing noise, approaching rapidly, too rapidly to move quickly enough. The metal star struck into Ben’s shoulder, partly through the strap of the leather bag and partly into his flesh. He spun around. A small black shadow leapt behind a broad leafed bush. Ben gripped the Magnum with both hands and pulled the trigger.
Several things happened. The savage recoil from the huge gun punched Ben backwards and he almost fell. The explosion from the cartridge was so enormous that Elizabeth and Sam screamed. The broad leafed bush about 30 metres away was partly shredded and the man behind it had his left arm pulped at the shoulder joint. He screamed and thrashed about on the ground, but not for long. A second shadow left the cover of trees and began to run. Ben was ready for the next recoil. The Magnum boomed. The runner was knocked off his feet with the impact of the projectile. He was dead before he hit the ground. Another shadow retreated rapidly towards the beach. Ben knew they wouldn’t attempt to approach him again. As Winston had said when he first saw the massive gun in Ben’s hands; “Who’s in charge now?”
‘Two more please,’ said Ben, holding his hand out to Winston. He handed over two cartridges. Ben pulled the spent shells out, burning his fingers in the process, and inserted the new cartridges. He closed the cylinder.
Elizabeth had recovered from the shock of the sudden unleashing of noise and violence. She reached Ben’s side and turned him around. ‘They’ve hit you with a metal star. It’s deep, but it’s gone through the bag strap first. That saved you I think.’
‘We can deal with that later,’ said Ben. ‘Everyone on this island heard that gun. We’re live targets now.’
‘Let me pull that thing out,’ said Elizabeth. ‘You’re bleeding.’
‘I’ll bleed worse if you pull it out.’ Ben looked back at Winston and Sam. They looked helpless. Winston looked defeated. Sam could hardly stand up.
Ben turned back to Elizabeth. ‘Sam and I didn’t go through this to fail now. Time for plan B. Follow me.’ He began walking back towards the aircraft hangar.
‘And what is plan B?’ asked Elizabeth, catching up with him. Sam and Winston straggled behind.
‘Can you fly a plane?’
‘No,’ said Elizabeth. ‘Can you?’
‘Sort of.’
‘Sort of? How do you ‘sort of’ fly a plane?’
‘I flew a bit when I was younger.’
‘Ben!’ called Sam. ‘Through the trees to the right.’
‘I’m watching him Sam. He’s scared of the gun. It’s big and dangerous and they know it.’
‘He’s underestimating the range as well,’ said Winston.
Ben stopped. He moved to a palm tree and steadied the Magnum against its trunk, holding tight with both hands. The boom of the gun was ear splitting. The projectile shredded leaves and bushes. A tiny black figure several hundred metres away went down with a scream. The screaming continued this time.
‘Wounded,’ said Winston. ‘Probably took a chunk out of him. I’m impressed with your shooting.’
‘I practice a lot,’ said Ben. ‘We need to keep moving.’
The hangar was now less than 100 metres away.
‘When did you last fly a plane?’ Elizabeth persisted.
‘About 30 years ago.’
‘You have to be kidding.’
‘Like riding a bike.’
‘Like hell it is.’
‘So you’ve seen the plane in there?’
‘There are two of them. Both Cessna’s.’
‘You know how to fly a Cessna?’
“I’ve only flown the little one. 152. Two seater.’
‘There are four of us Ben.’
‘I know that. We can fit in the other plane. It’s a 172.’
‘You’ve flown one of those?’
‘No.’
Elizabeth remained silent. They reached the hangar doors and moved inside.
‘Your bleeding is worse,’ said Elizabeth. ‘I don’t want you to bleed to death on us.’
‘Alright.’ The pain from the imbedded metal star was becoming acute. At least it didn’t have poison tips or he would have been dead by now. Ben took the torch from his belt and handed it to Winston. ‘The lady is going to patch me.’
Winston shone the torch on his back. The star was embedded to the hilt ‘There is some electrical tape in the bag,’ said Ben.
Elizabeth unclipped the bag and removed the roll of electrical tape.
Ben looked at Sam. ‘Stay at the doors and yell if someone gets close.’ Sam nodded and stood by the hangar doors.
‘This has to be quick,’ said Ben. ‘They’re not sitting on their hands. They’ll be thinking of something.’
‘What do I do?’ said Elizabeth.
‘Get my knife and slice a strip off you
r shirt….my shirt actually.’
Elizabeth did this quickly.
‘Now pull the star out and I’ll get the bag off. Thumb in the wound. Sorry Liz.’
‘Not a problem.’
‘When the bag and strap are free, stuff the strip of shirt in the wound and plaster on the electrical tape so it won’t come out.’
The procedure took less than a minute. Ben gritted his teeth against the pain.
He picked up the old leather bag, removed the set of keys taken from the aircraft hangar guard and handed them both to Elizabeth. ‘Find the keys for that one,’ He pointed to the Cessna 172. ‘Don’t turn the key or touch anything.’
Ben pushed against the right hand hangar door. It slid open on well oiled tracks. Winston and Sam pushed the other door open. Ben pointed to the Cessna with Elizabeth in the front seat. ‘We’re taking that one. Do you think you can disable the other one Mr. Mackay?’
‘With pleasure. I don’t want that Qian Psychopath making any quick escape from here.’
Ben waved the magnum. ‘Got four shots left. I’m going to make them nervous.’
Winston grinned. ‘You’ll scare the shit out of them.’
Ben stepped outside and moved to the edge of the jungle. The first explosion shattered the silence and blew bits of jungle to his right into leafy julienne all the way to the lagoon beyond. The second and third projectiles headed directly inland, towards the main house. Ben knew they would reach all the way to the house and well beyond if something large didn’t get in the way. The fourth shot sliced across the runway and through the jungle to his left.
He loved this portable Elephant gun although fingers, hands, wrists and arms were aching from the violence of the recoil. He moved quickly back into the hangar. Elizabeth gave him a thumbs up from inside the larger Cessna. One of the keys fitted the ignition.
Fuel level?
Water in fuel test?
No time to check. Grossly negligent of him. He had few memories of flight training so many years ago and checking moisture in fuel before take-off was burned permanently into his mind. Not this time however.
‘Anyone got a match?’ asked Winston.
Ben pointed to the body against the wall. ‘There’s a cigarette lighter on the ground there. What are you up to Winston?’
‘Nothing much. Might be best if we push our plane outside.’
Ben was feeling slightly dizzy but he tucked the large hot gun into his belt and got alongside Sam and Winston at the rear of the Cessna 172. Elizabeth joined them. The light plane rolled gently through the hangar doors and onto the firmly packed dirt runway.
Ben climbed into the pilot’s seat on the left hand side. He tossed the revolver onto the floor behind him and clipped his seatbelt on. Sam scrambled into the back seat.
‘You want to get this thing started?’ said Winston. I’ll be right out when you’re ready to go.’ He vanished back into the hangar.
Ben didn’t have time to argue. He looked at the array of instruments before him. He couldn’t remember seeing so many in a 152. He tried to remain calm and think.
Pre-flight inspection….. No time for that.
Doors, seat belts, circuit breakers…. Forget that.
Throttle. Open. How much? A bit. Not all the way in. That was for takeoff. Just a bit. He pushed the throttle knob in just a bit.
Mixture. Rich. Done.
Carb heat? Can’t remember. Leave it alone.
Magnetos both on? Done. Master switch on? Ben turned it on.
Ignition. He turned the key.
The starter whirred into life and the propeller turned. The engine coughed and then roared. He pushed forward with both toes on the floor peddles. That kept the brakes on. Elizabeth was standing by the open passenger door. The wind from the propeller blew her hair in all directions.
Winston materialised beside her. The soft dawn light illuminated his wide smile. He climbed into the back seat next to Sam. ‘I’d be moving as soon as possible Ben,’ he said with urgency in his voice.
Elizabeth jumped into the front passenger’s seat and slammed the door. Ben released the brakes and pushed the throttle in full. The motor roared loudly. The Cessna began to move forward, slowly at first but quickly gathering speed. Ben remembered to steer the plane in a straight line with gentle pressure left or right on the foot pedals. He remembered that he was supposed to set the trim control for takeoff but he didn’t want to take his eyes off the runway.
The plane gathered more speed. He glanced at the air speed indicator. It had always been on the top left of the instrument panel and thankfully Cessna hadn’t seen fit to move it in the last 30 years. They had reached 40 knots. Not nearly fast enough, not even in the 152.
The Perspex window next to Elizabeth suddenly shattered and part of the roof insulation rained down. ‘They’re shooting at us,’ she screamed.
Ben pulled back a little on the control column. He felt he may have been putting too much pressure on the front wheel. The plane gathered more speed. Ben wondered if he should have put the flaps down but couldn’t remember if they were needed for takeoff. This was a nightmare.
Another loud metallic bang came from behind the rear seats.
‘I think they’ve hit us again,’ yelled Elizabeth, over the roar of the engine.
Ben ignored her. ‘Fly the plane”. It had been drummed into his head again and again by his youthful instructor. “Don’t worry about what is happening around you….just fly the damn plane”
They were more than half way along the runway. The lagoon lay ahead with the reef beyond. Ben glanced at the air speed. 60 knots. Still not enough. It crawled to 65 knots and the beach drew rapidly nearer.
A dull ‘boom’ sounded behind them. Ben didn’t look back. Winston and Sam did. ‘The 152 is disabled,’ yelled Winston. A huge orange fire ball rose into the air from where the hangar had once stood.
70 knots. Ben pulled back gently but firmly on the control column. The nose of the Cessna came up. The beach was less than 100 metres away. He resisted the urge to pull back sharply on the column. The rear wheels left the ground 50 metres from the sand. The plane was airborne. Ben kept it straight and steady as it rose over the lagoon and the outer reef and climbed above the Coral Sea.
Away from the protection of the palm trees the wind gave additional lift to the plane. It also challenged the Cessna’s stability. Ben maintained a firm grip on the controls, correcting gently as required. Some of his long forgotten flying skills had returned. Top centre instrument showed level flight. Keep those wings level as you climb. Third instrument on the top left was altitude. They had reached 500 feet. Back to the top left dial….the most important in takeoff and landing…..air speed. 75 knots. That seemed to be OK.
The horizon to his right was brilliant red with the approach of the sun. Elizabeth’s hand touched his shoulder. It startled him at first but then reassured him that they were OK. He had done it. The most dangerous mission of his life had somehow succeeded. His optimism was short lived.
‘So you got us in the air,’ said Elizabeth, leaning close to his ear. ‘Now…can you get us on the ground in one piece?’
‘I’ve never been in a plane before,’ said Sam excitedly from the back seat. ‘I’m actually flying. This is mind blowing. I’m up where the birds belong.’
Ben was tempted to look at Elizabeth, but choose instead to scan the instruments in front of him. The altimeter was almost at 1000 feet. He was not sure if that was accurate because he hadn’t calibrated it with barometric pressure before takeoff, and had forgotten how to do that anyway. They were however, a long way up.
Rate of climb was the instrument bottom right. He decided to ignore that and concentrate on the air speed indicator. That was his key to keeping in the air.
At 3000 feet he lowered the nose of the Cessna slightly and pulled the throttle lever slightly to dec
rease the power. The aircraft speed increased to 90 knots but the control column was heavy. Ben located the trim control and dialled it forward until the column felt light. The speed moved to 100 knots. He decreased the engine power again watched the altimeter. It remained steady at 3100 feet.
‘So, where are we headed?’ asked Elizabeth. Her hand remained on his shoulder.
Ben ignored her. Fuel…. He hadn’t checked the fuel gauges. Both over half full. Thank God.
Winston’s head appeared between the two front seats. ‘Cairns airport is your only option. I gather you’re a bit rusty at this Mr. Hood.’
‘A bit,’ said Ben, not taking his eyes off the instruments.
‘Then turn right to the west and head for the coast. At the moment you are taking us to New Zealand.’
‘I’ve always wanted to visit New Zealand,’ said Sam, his eyes glued to the window and the panoramic view outside.
‘Might be a bit short on fuel for that one,’ said Winston.
Ben pushed the throttle slightly. The engine responded immediately. He gently turned the control wheel right. Aileron’s moved on each wing and the Cessna commenced a turn to the right. He watched the gyro compass. Middle lower instrument. As it approached due west he eased the wheel left and decreased power, pushing forward gently on the control column. Air speed had reached 110 knots and he had gained another 300 feet. That wasn’t supposed to happen but at least they were still in the air. Now he remembered why he had given up flying as a young man. Too damn complicated and too damn expensive.
‘You two don’t have your seat belts on,’ said Elizabeth, looking over her shoulder.
‘I have a feeling that may be the least of our problems,’ said Winston. ‘You OK with landing Ben?’
Ben said nothing.
Winston pulled the seat belt tightly across his lap and locked it. He helped Sam do the same.
‘Cairns you say?’ Ben said.
Winston leaned forward again. It’s the only airport around here. Hit the coast and turn left. Cairns has an impressive international runway. You could land a tractor there.’
Everyone stayed quiet. Even Sam began to appreciate that their airborne escape from Skull Island may have some further complications.
‘North south runway?’ asked Ben.
‘Yes,’ said Winston. ‘Can you work the radio?’
‘I’ve got my hands full at the moment,’ replied Ben. ‘I’ll let Liz handle the radio. He pointed to it and she switched it on. ‘See if you can find a frequency sheet in the side pocket there,’ said Ben.
Elizabeth rummaged about in her door pocket and finally produced a yellow laminated sheet. ‘This is for Cairns airport. There are dozens of frequencies. Which one do I try?’
‘Anything to do with emergencies?’
‘There is one here for International distress frequency. 121.5.’
‘Dial that in and let’s see if someone’s home.’
Winston leaned forward again. ‘Mr. Hood. If we are going to land at Cairns, can I suggest that we dispose of my gun before we have officials crawling all over us?’
‘Drop her out the window Winston. Cartridges too. There’s a lot of ocean down there.’
The large revolver and remaining cartridges were pushed through the partly open passenger window. Elizabeth pulled the window shut and locked it. Wind continued to whistle through the large bullet hole. She picked up the microphone. ‘Hello. Is anyone there?’
A lengthy silence followed but finally a youthful male voice crackled through the cabin speaker. ‘Who is calling?’
‘We’re in a light plane in an emergency situation and want to land at Cairns airport.’
‘Are you the pilot?’
‘No. I’m sitting next to him.’
‘What is your position?’
‘I haven’t got a clue!’ said Elizabeth, looking at Ben. He beckoned for her to put the microphone to his mouth. She did this and pushed the talk button.
‘My name is Ben Hood. I’m flying a Cessna 172 with 3 passengers on board. I’ve not flown one of these before but did fly a 152 many years ago. I may need some assistance to get down safely. We had to use this plane to escape a rather nasty situation which I’ll explain later.’
‘Just a moment Mr. Hood.’
There was silence for half a minute but then an older male voice came through the speaker. ‘Hello Ben. My name is Eric Holden. I’m the senior traffic controller at Cairns. You’re requesting some assistance to land here?’
‘Yes sir,’ said Ben.
‘And I gather you’ve not flown a Cessna 172 before?’
‘Just a 152 and that was around 30 years ago.’
‘I take it you have adequate control of the aircraft now?’
‘Yes. We’re straight and level.’
‘The 152 and 172 have similar controls Ben. I’m sure you have worked that out by now.’
‘Yes sir.’
‘Can you tell me your position?’
‘I’m heading due west and not far off the coast from Port Douglas. I’m just over 3000 feet.’
‘How’s the visual there?’
‘Clear. I’m under the clouds. Actually I can see the coast now.’
‘Good. How about you make a gentle turn left and just follow the coast south for a while. I’ll get things ready down here. You don’t know how to work the transponder I suppose?’
‘No. Never used one.’
‘OK, we’ll spot you with the radar. I’ll get back to you in a minute.’
Ben commenced a slow bank left. He dropped the right wing as the compass approached due south. The coastline was now distinctly visible on the right hand side and getting closer. He turned a little more to the left and levelled out at 3000 feet, trying to ignore the icy fingers of fear going for his throat again.
‘OK Ben. What are your KIAS?’
‘Don’t understand that one?’
‘Knots. How fast are you going?
‘100 knots.’
OK, I’ve got you now and everyone else is giving you a wide birth. I want you to power off a bit and start on descent. You’re going to be here quite soon. I also want you to come another 10 degrees left. That will put you right on track for the international runway.’
Ben turned left 10 degrees and levelled out. He pulled the throttle control out a tiny bit and the motor slowed. The front of the plane dropped marginally and the rate of descent instrument moved off zero into the negative area.
‘I want you to maintain that heading and rate of descent but don’t go below 1000 feet. OK?’
‘Copy’, said Ben.
Elizabeth touched his shoulder. ‘You can do this.’
He nodded and flashed her a smile. ‘Yeah, I know.’
At the 2000 foot mark they could clearly make out the airport runway in the distance. Now he had a target to focus on.
‘OK Ben,’ said the controller’s voice. ‘Let’s have your mixture to rich if you can see the control.’
‘It’s already at rich. I forgot to turn it off.’
‘OK so let’s have some carb heat on as well.’
Ben turned on the carburettor heat control. ‘Done.’
‘And can you give me 10% of flap please?’
Ben pulled back the flap control to the 10% mark. The plane slowed and the nose came up a bit. Ben gently pushed it down and set the trim forward to assist. ‘OK, the flaps are at 10% and I’ve trimmed also.’
‘Wonderful. You should be at 1,500 feet by now,’
‘Yes,’ replied Ben. The runway was approaching rapidly. Ben knew from his training many years ago that the way the runway looked visually on approach, was a major key to a successful landing. Now if he could just remember how the runway was supposed to look.’
‘OK I’d like you to power back and maintain a descent speed of 65 knots. We’ve got a bit of a cross wind from the east happening so you may need
to steer to the left from time to time. You’ve obviously got the runway?’
‘Yes,’ said Ben, easing the throttle out a little more.
‘I don’t think we’ll worry too much about using the rudder. How’s your speed?’
’70 knots,’
‘You’re doing great Ben. Don’t get under 60 knots. We’ll have you on the ground in a few minutes. You remember how to flare and steer and brake?’
‘I’ll do my best,’ said Ben.
‘Can you give me another 10% flap please?’
Ben set the flap control back another 10%. The plane slowed to 65 knots.
At 500 feet they were almost to the runway. Ben could see emergency vehicles with flashing lights moving on side roads. He tried to ignore them. “Fly the plane” his Instructor had nagged him.
Ben did this now. He kept the airspeed at 65 knots, making gentle corrections to the left from time to time in order to stay lined up with the centre of the runway. The runway looked good. It was much wider and longer than any runway Ben had used in his training days. They were over the keys and slightly left of the centre line. Ben now ignored the instruments and kept his eyes on the runway. It moved closer and closer. When he felt he was less than 20 feet from the ground he pulled the throttle fully out, cutting the power, and pulled back gently on the control column. Initially the nose fought him and didn’t want to rise. He pulled back harder as the plane began to sink to the bitumen. The main wheels hit the ground with a heavy impact but the plane did not bounce. Ben kept the nose up until the ground speed reduced but the nose came down gently by itself and the front wheel contacted the bitumen.
He applied gentle pressure with his toes and the plane braked and slowed further. He kept to the centre of the runway, steering with the foot pedals. The plane rolled to a stop. Only then did Ben look across to Elizabeth. She was looking at him but tears were rolling down her cheeks. She mouthed the words “thank you” to him. Ben just nodded.
The cabin speaker crackled. ‘Welcome to Cairns Mr. Hood. Excellent landing by the way. Couldn’t have done it better myself.’
Ben took the microphone off Elizabeth. ‘Thanks for your assistance Eric. I’d have been struggling without you.’
‘If you can just taxi off the runway to one of those left hand roads we might start taking the other planes out of their holding patterns.’
‘Right away,’ said Ben, ‘and please thank them for their patience.’
‘Will do.’
‘I need to speak with your most senior Federal Police representative as soon as possible,’ said Ben. ‘You have one at Cairns?’
‘Yes, and he’ll be with you in a minute or so.’
‘Thanks,’ said Ben. He dropped the microphone and gently applied power to the engine. He stepped off the brakes and steered the plane off the main runway to a side road and a holding bay several hundred metres away. A marked Federal Police vehicle pulled up a short distance away as well as several airport emergency vehicles, an ambulance and two fire engines. Ben turned off the engine. The propeller slowed and stopped. The silence was overwhelming. He opened his door and stepped onto the ground. His knees buckled and he fell heavily. Two ambulance officers were at his side immediately. His back was covered with blood, as was the back of the pilot’s seat. Elizabeth knelt beside him, her hands to each side of his head. She looked at the ambulance officers. ‘He’s lost blood. There’s a deep wound in his back under all that black tape.’
One of the ambulance men gently pushed Ben into a sitting position. He was quite conscious. ‘Bit silly of me to fall out of the plane like that,’
‘We’ll get you in the ambulance and take a look, OK?’
Ben nodded.
Winston approached as Ben was helped to his feet. ‘I don’t quite know how to thank you Ben,’ he said with a tremor in his voice.
‘Where’s the leather bag?’ asked Ben.
‘I got it,’ called Sam as he joined the battered group. He seemed more in need of first aid than the others and was an obvious candidate for the ambulance.
‘My mobile phones in there. Can you get it Winston? Turn it on and hit speed dial 9,’
‘Why?’
‘Just do it.’
Winston switched the phone on and hit the speed dial button. Ben sat down in the open doorway of the ambulance with Elizabeth close beside him. Winston put the phone to his ear. His face lit up. ‘Well hello my darling. Remember me?’ he said, his eyes full of tears.
Everyone heard Joy scream with surprise, relief and delight.
“****”
Chapter Thirty Eight
