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Milieu Dawn

Page 28

by Malcolm Franks

It was an odd noise. Like water trying to disappear down a blocked plug hole. Unable to force a passage, the water would gurgle then seep back up the pipe and flood into the basin.

  Rank smelling liquid spewed from Rosa’s mouth against his unprotected chest. She spluttered, coughed, and spluttered some more. He rolled Rosa on to her side, so her body could vomit out the remains onto the sand and rubbed feverishly underneath her shoulder blades to help the process along.

  It took longer then he imagined, for the violent retching to stop. Once she had rested, he turned her into his arms and gazed into the delicious blue eyes that had now opened to welcome the burning sun.

  Matt brushed the sodden blonde hair away from the sides of her face and stroked the back of his fingers against her cheeks. His smile failed to conceal the inner relief she was alive.

  Rosa gazed blankly into his eyes, her mind struggling to elicit any movement in the muscles of her face. Then her arm reached up and she rested her fingers gently against his jaw and over his lips.

  She managed a weak smile

  “Hey, Arnie,” she whispered. “We made it.”

  Matt sank back into the soft tan leather seat of the aft galley, drink in hand. Over on the other side of the fuselage of the Schafen company jet sat Rosa, resting her elbow on the table as she looked out of the window waiting impatiently for the phone call to be put through.

  The two similar seats facing opposite were empty, as were the set of two and then four other executive seats in front of them. Further along, on Rosa’s side, rested a long cloth sofa parked immediately in front of the white basin and wooden cabinet armed with dual coffee makers. Across the fuselage, on Matt’s side, was the main storage area for baggage and crockery. The checked carpet running through the galley felt soft, thick and luxurious. Ahead lay the front galley, fitted out to the same pattern. Matt always sat at the rear of an aircraft when a passenger. Who ever heard of a plane reversing into a mountain?

  “Hiya,” Rosa spoke with gusto. “Where are you?”

  The pace of her conversation accelerated, hardly stopping to breathe as she rattled off a series of excitable phrases. Matt sipped at the whisky and turned to look at the sky. He spent several minutes gazing down at the cotton wool-like shapes below before deciding to shift position to get a better view of the ocean, now plainly visible through the obediently parting clouds. Matt winced at the discomfort to his shoulder when a presence took the seat directly in front of him.

  “How is it?” asked Gratia.

  “Sore,” he said.

  “The wound will leave a scar.”

  “It’ll match the one on the other side.”

  “You have another injury to your other shoulder?”

  “Yeah, full set now. Not that I can say it’s something I’ve always wanted.”

  She gave him a half smile.

  “Rosa’s happy,” she said, motioning with her head to the energetically chattering blonde.

  “Yes.”

  “You look sad.”

  “No,” he said quietly. “I’m a little distracted, perhaps.”

  “What’s on your mind?”

  He gazed into her Guinness eyes.

  “Anything and everything really,” he said.

  “Like what to do when we get back?”

  “Yes, amongst a few others.”

  He could see his lack of clarity confused her.

  “Should I take your mind off things for a while?”

  He frowned.

  “That’s a little direct for you, Gratia.”

  Her face broke out into a healthy smile.

  “I thought you might like to fly a little.”

  “What, this thing you mean?”

  “It is the only plane we’re on.”

  “Seriously?” he said.

  “Seriously, but only if you think you’re up to it.”

  Matt was out of his seat in double quick time, instantly forgetting about the ache in his shoulder, his face wrapped in childlike excitement. Gratia wore an amused grin as she led him forward by the hand. She stopped as they arrived at the door to the cockpit.

  “Now remember, I do not have a full licence yet.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Are we going in or not?”

  They had been cruising for several minutes. In truth, there was nothing for Matt to do with the automatic pilot engaged. Even so he examined the gauges and dials in fond detail, constantly asking for explanations as to what they did. Once he’d finally run out of questions about the plane he turned his attention to Gratia.

  “What made you want to learn to fly?” he asked.

  “Much the same reason as you, I suppose. To be up in the sky is different from anywhere else on the planet. And to be free of the ground, well … it’s special.”

  Matt related to those sort of feelings. They were the same emotions he got from flying. He was beginning to see this svelte shape sitting next to him in a different light. Perhaps they had more in common than first imagined.

  “I never took you as someone in search of freedom,” he said.

  “You’re not the only person in the world who sometimes likes to escape the crowds.”

  Her openness came as a surprise.

  “Bit of an admission, for you,” he said.

  “Yes. Yes it is,” she said. “I must be spending too much time in the company of the wrong sort of people.”

  Gratia looked across to him with a stern face. And then she smiled. Matt returned her address with a smile of his own.

  “The two of you are a good match,” she said.

  “A match?” he replied quizzically.

  “Rosa and you,” she said. “You are a good pairing.”

  “That’s because we are friends.”

  “An objective observer could easily conclude there is more to your relationship than friendship.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  She hunched her shoulders.

  “The way you fought to bring her back to life,” she said. “There was also the tenderness in your touch, and in your eyes, as she recovered.”

  Matt wasn’t quite sure how to react.

  “There is a special bond between me and Rosa, because of what happened previously. There will always be a part of us in each other because of what we went through. I might have said this to you earlier.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  He decided not to add to his comment.

  “It is not too late. The wedding is some weeks away, so there is still time to let Rosa know how you feel about her,” she said.

  Matt recalled the excitement in Rosa’s face when she took Stefan’s call, and the effect it had on him. He glanced over at Gratia’s face. Why did she say this?

  “There’s nothing much to tell. Rosa and I are war buddies, nothing more.”

  Gratia looked unconvinced. He glimpsed her head turn and gaze at him, steady and unwavering. He wondered what she was thinking. Matt decided to wait for her to speak. Gratia’s mouth opened just as the cockpit door opened.

  “So this is where you are,” said Rosa. “What is it with big boys and mechanical toys?”

  Matt had taken advantage of one of the jet’s five sleeping berths for a couple of hours. His shoulder ached as he rose. Stumbling forward, he could see Rosa and Gratia were still very much asleep.

  He poured out a coffee and slid into the seat, yawning for all he was worth. There was little to see from the window other than sky, a handicap of flying so high. Matt remembered the pilot saying fifty thousand feet was the optimum height on a long journey. One sip later and Matt concluded the mildly tepid liquid was undrinkable, and spewed it back into the cup. He flirted briefly with the idea of waiting for the ladies to rise. Instead he decided to see if either of the pilots would let him sit up front.

  “How we doing, guys,” said Matt.

  No-one answered. The pair sat there, motionless, without even acknowledging his friendly introduction. He stood for a few moments, and waited. Both pilots con
tinued to ignore his presence. Matt was usually easy going, and would normally have just shrugged his shoulders and returned to his seat. On this occasion, probably due to his ongoing weariness, their behaviour distinctly irritated him.

  “A wave of the hand too much effort for you both then?” said Matt

  There was no reply. Now he was angry. In a fit of pique, Matt pushed out his hand to nudge at the lead pilot’s shoulder. The man didn’t react. He nudged the other pilot. No reaction from him either. Matt crouched forward and felt at the lead pilot’s neck for a pulse. There was none, nor for the other man.

  He scrambled back through the fuselage and shook Gratia violently, throwing the covers from her slender frame as he called at her.

  “Gratia, get up!”

  She stirred and looked up to see who it was. Recognising Matt, she buried her head back into the pillow.

  “Go away,” she moaned.

  “Gratia, get up. Now!” he yelled.

  The level of his voice disturbed Rosa. She, too, began to stir.

  “What’s going on?” she muttered.

  Matt roughly grabbed Gratia’s arm to lift her up from the warm bed.

  “Get off,” she moaned.

  He leaned forward.

  “The pilots are both dead. You’re going to have to drive,” he shouted.

  “What!” they said in stereo.

  “The pilots are both dead. No-one is flying the plane.”

  Both jumped from their berths, scrambling for clothes.

  “Leave them,” Matt yelled to Gratia. “Rosa will bring them for you.”

  Matt scurried through the galleys, forcefully tugging the hand of the lingerie clad figure behind him. He arrived at the cockpit, loosened the belts harnessing the lead pilot to his seat and pulled the corpse clear. Matt dragged the dead body into the forward galley and dropped it unceremoniously into the gangway.

  “Careful,” said a rapidly closing Rosa.

  “I really don’t think he felt anything,” said Matt.

  Gratia’s svelte figure squeezed past Matt to fill the pilot’s seat while he frantically cleared the second corpse.

  “Where are we?” asked Gratia.

  “You’re asking me?”

  She shook her head to try and focus her thinking while Matt dived into the other pilot seat and strapped in.

  “Shouldn’t we descend or something?” he asked.

  “There are any number of commercial flights between us and the ground. Do you want to risk us hitting one? Now be quiet and let me concentrate.”

  Rosa found the exchange amusing.

  “You just can’t help yourself, Matt,” she laughed. “Always have to try and tell us womenfolk what to do.”

  Feeling suitably chastised, Matt followed the temporary pilot’s lead in scanning the instruments for information.

  “Gratia, the fuel gauge,” he pointed out.

  She looked and nodded.

  “We’re going to have to land.”

  “Can you do it?”

  “Maybe,” she said.

  “Maybe, what kind of answer is that supposed to be?”

  He felt Rosa’s hand clip the back of his head.

  “What have I just told you?” she said playfully. “Let the woman do her job instead of interfering all the time.”

  She was right. He had to let Gratia get on with it, trust in her ability. Matt tried to relax back into the seat. Much as he hated being a bystander this was the only thing he could do right now.

  “I’m going to nip back into the galley for a few minutes,” said Rosa. “You had better stay up front and help Gratia.”

  Rosa departed, leaving them to it. Matt was curious as to where she had gone. He looked across to Gratia.

  “You can do this,” he said.

  She turned and smiled.

  “I know. You worry too much.”

  He watched intently as Gratia set about the task. She was cool, calm and purposeful. Rosa had asked him to stay and help. In truth there was little for him to do bar the odd job, such was Gratia’s grasp of what was required. Nevertheless, Matt thoroughly enjoyed the experience of working so closely with her. He found his admiration for her growing with each task successfully completed, each exchange of words during the conversation.

  “Thank you,” she said, when they were finished.

  “Hey, it’s us who should thank you. We would have been dead meat if you hadn’t been on this plane.”

  She trained her bright eyes on his face.

  “Thank you anyway.”

  She had never been this generous of tone towards him. Matt held her steady gaze. She really was an extraordinary woman. Gratia had shown endless resilience, demonstrating skill and courage way beyond what would be considered as the norm. She was one gutsy lady. He hadn’t realised his gaze had got lost in her Guinness eyes.

  “What?” she said with a curious smile.

  Matt shook his head and glanced away.

  “I was wondering what was keeping Rosa,” he said.

  No sooner had he spoke then Rosa made an appearance through the cockpit door.

  “Are we sorted?”

  “Think so,” he said. “Gratia’s arranged for us to land and refuel at Klagenfurt. It’s a short hop from there to Salzburg. Where have you been anyway?”

  “Trawling for clues to explain the demise of our two travel companions,” said Rosa.

  “Find anything?”

  “No. Whoever orchestrated or was behind this knew what they were doing,” she replied. “There are no visible signs or puncture wounds to the bodies. They must have unwittingly ingested something.”

  “Some kind of poison?” asked Matt.

  “That’s my guess, in the absence of any other clues.”

  “Must have been something they had before boarding then, otherwise we’d all be dead too. I strongly recommend we all suppress the urge to eat or drink for the rest of the flight, just to be on the safe side.”

  “Klagenfurt could work to our advantage,” said Rosa.

  “How do you make that out?”

  “Gives us an excuse to land somewhere and temporarily throw our pursuers off the scent,” said Rosa.

  “They couldn’t do anything in public anyway.”

  “No, but there are things we can do without being observed. Where are we, Gratia?”

  “We’re nearing Klagenfurt.”

  “Matt, can you give me a hand for a few minutes, to dress the pilots.”

  He turned to Gratia.

  “Will you be alright?”

  “Go,” she said. “You have a few minutes before we begin to descend.”

  “What shall we say?” asked Matt as he fastened the last button of the pilot’s shirt.

  “The truth I guess. Both pilots were found dead at the wheel and we have no idea how or when it happened.”

  “Then what, report back to Catherine?”

  She paused.

  “No. It might be better to hold back until we’ve got a fuller understanding of exactly what we’re dealing with. Something doesn’t feel right about this, and we need to try and figure out why it’s different this time.”

  “I thought that,” said Matt. “Did Gratia tell you what the young girl, Mathilde, said to me in Cogolin?”

  “Yes. It’s like you’re being set up, to be in the vicinity of where these people lived at the time they died.”

  “The fall guy,” he said. “I’m sure that’s what was intended when those thugs turned up at Gratia’s suite in Pamplona.”

  “She never mentioned it to me,” said Rosa in surprise.

  “Gratia had to kill one of them to stop him from knifing me. She tries not to think about it.”

  “What is it with you and women constantly having to save your ass?”

  He smiled.

  “Just lucky, I guess.”

  Rosa shook her head in mock disapproval.

  “I thought I’d trained you to look after yourself. Obviously I was wrong.”

/>   He leaned over and pecked her cheek.

  “Thanks, Rosa” he said. “I know Gratia appreciates your help too.”

  She sat back on her haunches, deep in thought. He waited for a few moments to see if Rosa would restart the conversation. When it didn’t happen, he asked his question.

  “Do you know of anyone who can watch over Gratia on a more permanent basis? I’m conscious you have a wedding coming up soon.”

  “I wouldn’t worry too much about Gratia. They could have taken her anytime. I think it’s you they’re really after.”

  “Why me though? And not you?” he asked.

  “That is the million dollar question. Unless …”

  “Unless what?”

  “Do you still have any copies of the original Milieu files, stashed away in some obscure hideaway?”

  “I had one copy left. Someone’s looking after it for me. But it would surely be much easier just to kill me.”

  “You underestimate the power of discrediting a person. Who would believe anything you said if a convicted murderer. It’s a well tried and trusted method of eliminating human obstacles.”

  “No-one is an obstacle if they’re dead.”

  “For all they know you have any number of copies spread around the globe, insurance against a suspicious end.”

  “So why arrange all this? Or did these two pilots happen to die on exactly the same flight by pure chance.”

  She thought for a minute.

  “A plane crash seems pretty tidy to me. Aviation accidents happen. There wouldn’t be much left of us to investigate and it kills two birds with one stone. At a stroke Gratia is removed from office, allowing them to take full control of Schafen, and you’d no longer be a thorn in their side.”

  “It’s still risky though. They couldn’t guarantee an accident would prevent the release of any files I might still have.”

  Rosa considered again.

  “They must know you didn’t get in to the computer files in Xiamen,” she reasoned. “I reckon you should disappear when we get to Klagenfurt, find a place to hole up. Give me some time to do a bit of research.”

  “Why must I go to ground? Whatever happened to us?”

  “Gratia can’t go to hiding. Otherwise they’ll know she’s on to them. I have to be free to do some digging.”

  “You can’t be sure they won’t make another move against Gratia over the next few days.”

  “Didn’t I tell you? I’m her new assistant. Wherever Gratia goes, I go. Don’t worry, she’ll be fine. I’ll make certain of it. Gratia is one smart lady. Judging from what I’ve seen so far she’s managed to cover her tracks pretty well. And as long as you keep your distance, life will get easier for her.”

  Matt looked to the skies in open frustration. He knew she was right. It had to be this way.

  “So it’s just me keeping low.”

  “For a while,” she said.

  He thought for a moment.

  “What will you tell people?” he said disconsolately.

  “That you pig-headedly decided to wander off to try and do it alone, believing you could solve the problem without help from anyone else.”

  “No-one is going to believe that.”

  She looked him in the eye.

  “It is you we’re talking about,” she said.

  Matt didn’t take offence exactly, but it irked him to know people saw him in this way.

  “I’ll go and explain to Gratia before we land.”

  “No,” she said, to prevent him. “Gratia has to believe this story too. Better for everyone she is kept as much in the dark as everyone else.”

  Again, Rosa was right.

  “How will I contact you?”

  “I’ll leave a text on this,” she said handing him a mobile.

  “Where did you get this from?”

  “Him,” she said, motioning with her head to one of the dead pilots. “I’ll get a new pre-pay mobile. When you get my text, reply to the number.”

  “I’ll need money.”

  Rosa searched through the wallets of the dead men and extricated large quantities of notes. She handed them to him.

  “Use this for now.”

  They were quiet for a while.

  “How have you managed to explain all this to Stefan?”

  “The same way I explain everything else I need to explain to him,” was all she said.

  He decided to say what was on his mind.

  “For a guy you’re about to marry, you don’t talk about him much.”

  Rosa gave him an unusually dark look.

  “And I’m not about to start now,” she said.

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  Shockwave

 

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