by K W Frost
Chapter Fifty
Once the decision had been made, Rita approached Child, her pen ready.
‘Mr Child, what equipment will you need?’
Child indicated towards Sergeant Hikinui.
‘Get him to get me a black outfit — he’ll know what to put in it,’ Child said. ‘I’m 5’ 7”, about sixty-eight kilos, and my shoe size is 8.5. No assault rifle. I need detailed drawings of the Sky Tower and full profiles of anyone up there who may be of interest.’
Child’s demands flew like bullets.
‘Certainly Mr Child, anything else?’ Rita asked politely.
Child paused and thought for a moment longer.
‘Ah… yes! I want a large fishing gaff and a whole lot of fireworks.’
Rita didn’t think anything could rattle her, but this bizarre request did.
‘Um, a gaff and some fireworks?’ she repeated softly.
‘That’s right — the bigger the better too.’
‘Okay… a gaff and some fireworks coming right up,’ Rita said, her eyebrows raised. ‘Anything else, Mr Child?’
Rita had some serious doubts about Child’s sanity.
‘Yeah, how about a sandwich? I haven’t eaten in hours,’ Child added as he collected the persons of interest files from the desk.
The Sky Tower dominates the Auckland skyline. At three hundred and twenty eight metres it is New Zealand’s tallest structure. Constructed out of high-strength concrete, it did indeed look like an upright syringe. At night its coloured lights change regularly, giving it a surreal, ethereal appearance. There are several observation decks, both indoor and out. On the main observation level, a special type of glass was set into the floor, giving you a clear view of the city below. Audio guides, live weather updates and touchscreen computers give visitors the complete picture.
Above the main observation level is the celebrated Orbit Restaurant, revolving slowly around the tower, completing a full three hundred and sixty degree turn in an hour. Diners can enjoy the spectacular view without moving from their table. Above the restaurant sits the outdoor observation level. From there you can sky jump the 192 metres down to the ground, if you have the courage and the money.
Rings of telecommunication dishes can be seen jutting out above the outdoor observatory. At 220 metres up, the highest observation level is the Sky Deck. Internal access is available up to 270 metres, with the highest view of Auckland. Access is from the elevators situated in an underground gallery: three for the public and one service elevator. There is also an internal stairwell, up which an annual charity run called “The Race” is held. The record time to the top is little over five minutes.
For the occasion of the leaders’ dinner, public access had been denied all day. Bomb disposal, dogs and electronic sweeps had all taken place, and personnel were checked and authorised. Police guarded all entrances from below. The tower was secure. Secure from outside interference and penetration.
Child spent the next half an hour studying maps and diagrams of the internal and external structures of the Sky Tower. He also studied the available profiles of everyone up in the tower. He paid special attention to the Japanese and Chinese delegations, trying to imprint their images on his mind. Unsurprisingly, there was a lack of detail around the Lah Wah delegation. There were no photographs, but he did get their names: Hu Seng, Jun Yong Yang, Wu Young and chief chef Kantashi Mitsu. Seeing the last name on the list merely confirmed for Child that he had been right in his suspicions. He also spent five minutes going over the security arrangements that were in place for this summit meeting.
As head of security, Thomson was supposed to have immediate contact with the on-site security chief, a specialist police inspector, called Howard Jones. Disturbingly, no contact could be made with him.
Finally, Child got dressed to go, and Sergeant Hikinui came through with a complete set of suitable gear, to which Child added his own special additions. Child then walked out to the helicopter with Thomson and Smaille in tow.
Ritson and Samantha were already on board, double-checking the arrangements for the bungee with Ritson’s friend, Ken Wall. They could be seen testing the fittings and straps that connected the bungee equipment to the helicopter’s internal structure.
Bright stars winked overhead for a moment before they disappeared behind the darkness of an ominous blackness arriving from the south-west. The small weather front was rolling in faster than expected.
Child was dressed completely in black. From the second-hand, rubber-soled combat boots right through to his socks, pants and even his belt. Next came a dark green polyprop vest and lightweight Kevlar bullet protection covering his chest and back. A tight combat skivvy covered the clothing. Black camouflage paint covered his head and hair, and charcoal was rubbed under each eye to prevent any glare. A small microphone and speaker hung down and around his left ear.
For weaponry he had a long, thin stiletto knife strapped to his right leg, and a black Glock forty-five magnum pistol attached to his belt with spare clips of bullets. It wasn’t the ideal handgun, but it had stopping power and plenty of ammunition. The addition of a silencer increased the deadly appearance of the pistol. Additional pockets contained thirty metres of thin but extremely strong rope, capable of carrying up to 300 kilograms, or at least that was what Child had been told.
Clipped to the back of Child’s belt were four small grenades. On the right: two smoke grenades, and on the left: two flash grenades. Child also made additions from his own equipment, which had been brought up by Gray. Across Child’s chest sat a row of hypodermic darts tucked into their separate pockets, almost matching the row of arrows just visible over Child’s left shoulder. He also carried ten crossbow arrows, four hunting arrows, three sets of the flash explosives, and knockout nerve serum in hypodermic needles. Child’s small crossbow was strapped to his right shoulder, accessible with just one swift tug. In his right-hand Child carried the wooden staff-come-blowgun. Ritson carefully tied the fishing gaff to one end of this, and to the other a loop of abseiling strap. It looked an ugly, unnecessary weapon.
Fully kitted out, Child climbed into an abseiling harness. Child clipped on four aluminum carabiners and a figure of eight. He was ready to go.
Reaching the helicopter, Child turned to speak to Thomson.
‘Don’t worry, I won’t let you down,’ he said.
For a second Thomson believed him. He stretched out hand to Child.
‘Good luck, Child, do come back.’
Smaille heard the brief exchange and it brought a small smile to his tense face. He shook his hand vigorously.
‘Child, I’m glad we met,’ Smaille said earnestly. ‘Remember — don’t hesitate to kill the bastards, if you have to.’
Looking directly into Smaille’s eyes, Child saw a hard man who had made a difficult decision. It was a decision that rested on Child’s ability to complete the task ahead. Child added to their brief conversation, despite the increasing noise of the helicopter.
‘I spent five years of my life training to do this, now we’ll see if I was good enough after all,’ Child called out.
Smaille heard every word.
‘I’m no hero, Smaille, and I’ll take as few as risks as possible — after all, it’s my life.’
‘Good luck, Child.’
‘I’ll probably need it,’ Child replied, checking his watch. ‘Five minutes before the fireworks start.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Smaille said quietly, ‘it’ll look like the fourth of July.’
Chapter Fifty-One
It would only take thirty seconds to fly up to the Sky Tower, but the pilot had been instructed to fly southwards, before circling back to gain more height. Four minutes later, Child and the team were approaching the tower at an altitude of 500 metres.
Consulting with Ken Wall, Child and Ritson believed a one hundred and fifty metre drop was the largest that they could get away with in terms of accuracy and safety. Fortunately, the weather remained fine, with just a l
ittle wind blowing in from the south-east and odd high cloud. A small front was forecast for later that evening, with showers and increasing wind speed of up to thirty kilometres per hour.
The plan was for Child to be dropped next to the tower, allowing him to reach out at the bottom of the fall and hook the gaff into the network of wires surrounding the needle-like point. Child was to immediately release himself from the bungee or else he would be jerked back up into the air. If that happened, the helicopter was to fly away with Child and winch him back up. Then they would try again.
The sun was only a faint smudge on the eastern skyline. The moon wasn’t due to rise for ninety minutes. It was this time frame that Child hoped to utilise. There was no talking in the helicopter as it swung away to the south. It climbed upwards through the air, and two minutes later, at an altitude of five hundred metres, it made its approach towards the Sky Tower from the south. The lights of Auckland glistened below, and the motorways were lit by rows of cars, their headlights blazing as they travelled along like an army of ants.
Child checked his gear a final time, even jumping up and down a few times to make sure that everything was firmly in place. Samantha watched on, once again aware of the competency, the professionalism of this ordinary, insignificant physical education teacher from a country school.
Ritson and Wall triple checked the bungee cord and its attachments. Wall had constructed a frame with a bar that could be extended out the door of the helicopter.
Attached to this was a steel loop, through which the end of the bungee was attached. It led back into the main bay of the helicopter and was connected to the high-speed winch that was to pull the bungee cord back up into the helicopter. At the other end of the bungee was a thick multi-layer loop, which was usually strapped to the bungee participant’s ankles or the back of chest harness, and a single loop of twenty-five millimetre harness webbing.
Child felt a nudge on his arm and he turned. Samantha looked at him, her hand resting on his forearm. How could she ever think of this man as insignificant?
Child, sensing her worry, he smiled at Samantha and gave a quick wink.
‘Don’t worry, Sam, I’ll be fine,’ Child mouthed silently.
He reached out and took hold of Samantha’s arms.
‘I’ll take you out to dinner when I get back,’ he whispered, leaning in close. He gave her arms a final squeeze before turning away.
‘I’ll be waiting,’ Child heard Samantha say quietly.
Suddenly, a voice sounded in Child’s ear.
‘Almost time, Child, are you ready?’
Ritson had on a similar set of headgear to Child. His voice could be heard clearly through the small speaker situated just below his ear.
‘As ready as I’ll ever be, Steve,’ Child muttered. ‘By the way, if I don’t make it, the assassins have a small red dragon tattooed on their left knuckle.’
‘You bloody idiot, why didn’t you tell the others?’
‘It’s too small to look for, and besides, they might disguise it. Right, I’ve got to go.’
Child took hold of the metal frame of the bungee winch and leant out of the helicopter. The Sky Tower was barely 200 metres away, but still hundreds of metres below.
The helicopter plunged down rapidly, closing in on its target.
Suddenly, a pier at the end of viaduct basin erupted with a display of fireworks. Huge spouting volcanoes of fire, with red, blue and yellow sparks flying upwards. Cascades of colourful explosions encircled the pier, and skyrockets erupted out to streak into the inner harbour before shimmering down in a shower of sparks. It was spectacular. All the guests in the Sky Tower turned to enjoy the show.
The helicopter slowed its downward plunge and stopped still. A green light attached to the side of the helicopter blinked on. The pilot was in position.
‘Show time,’ said Ritson.
‘Okay, let’s go,’ replied Child.
Wall quickly but carefully hauled the bungee cord out of the helicopter until it hung with a giant loop dangling below the craft. Child slipped his left hand into the harness strap, looped it around his wrist and gripped it tight with his fingers and thumb. His right hand gripped his blowpipe, the loop of webbing around his forearm.
With a final look around behind him, Child saw the looks of concern coming from his fellow flyers. Their expressions clearly showed that they didn’t expect to see him alive again. Wall was the least apprehensive of the bunch, as he knew his equipment wouldn’t fail. He didn’t want to know the consequences of failure.
With a last look down, Wall turned and nodded at Child.
‘Go!’ Wall yelled at Child.
Child stepped forward and disappeared into space.
Keeping both hands extended up above his head for stability, Child accelerated at a staggering pace. The wind whipped at his clothing, his hair flew upright and he fell like a stone. Risking a glance downwards, Child saw the top of the Sky Tower rushing towards him.
He tensed ready for impact, as he thought he was going to land directly on top of the point.
Images of a news story about a man who was fatally impaled on top of the tallest building in New Zealand flashed through Child’s mind.
Then before he knew it, he was flashing by the tip of the towers flashing light and continued down past its needle-like point.
Child began to slow as the bungee stretched out. He extended his arms but he was too far away. He couldn’t reach. As the rope slowed his fall, he knew he had only seconds to react. Frantically, Child extended his right arm again, but he still couldn’t reach. He was tantalisingly close. A mere 300 millimetres separated the gaff and the tower. Almost motionless, Child arched his hips towards the tower. It was now or never. He stopped. He let go and plunged downwards.
Up in the helicopter, Wall was watching the bungee cord intently. He immediately saw the slackening that signaled Child’s release.
‘He’s gone,’ yelled Wall, activating the winch.
The last thing Wall wanted was the cord to get caught around the top of the tower. It could be the death of them all. The helicopter pilot swung up and away from the tower, free to circle around and land back at police headquarters.
Ritson stood rigid, gripping the helicopter firmly, his knuckles white. Staring down into the space where he saw Child disappear, now he could see nothing. He waited for Child to say something.
Samantha stood watching Ritson, counting the seconds as they passed. Each one seemed unbelievably long. She waited for a reaction from Ritson.
Why was Child taking so long?
Jack-knifing around his hips, Child lunged his right hand out towards the wires surrounding the tower. The laws of physics stated that for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. As he jack-knifed forward, the counter rotation around his hips gave him the precious millimetres he needed.
The gaff gripped a wire, pulling Child’s body in towards the tower. The wire snapped, and then a second and a third caught, stopping Child’s downward plunge. His body swung in to the mass of communication wires around the highest point of the Sky Tower.
Desperately, Child swung his left arm around the maze of wires and hung on. He stopped, wires cutting across his face, a welt rising across his forehead. Child didn’t care though. He had landed. He was hanging on to a half a metre-wide pole, 300 metres up in the air. He felt utter relief.
Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he spoke into the tiny microphone attached to his head.
‘Steve, I’m down, I’m on the tower.’
Ritson looked over at Samantha, a huge grin spreading across his face.
‘He’s down. He’s on the tower. He did it.’
Impulsively, they hugged each other.
Chapter Fifty-Two
In the situation room at police headquarters, there was a hive of activity. Clerks and administration staff were rapidly collecting and sorting data. The live image of the Sky Tower was projected onto the large whiteboard. The murmur of voices flo
ated around the table.
Thomson, Smaille, Stulz, Gray, Harrison, Sergeant Hikinui, Rita and Woody all sat around the central table, staring at the speaker-phone set up in the middle. Each one willed it to speak. It was linked directly into Child’s communication network. They could hear every word he said, and could speak directly to Child as well, if necessary. However, it had been agreed that would only occur in an emergency, as Child didn’t need any distractions at the wrong time. Their phone was switched off.
Cups of cooling coffee sat in front of each person, forgotten.
Then, a collective deep breath was taken as they heard Child and Ritson’s voices. Turning to each other, small grins began to appear on some faces. Thomson and Smaille exchanged a brief relieved nod before reality once again set in. Their smiles quickly vanished.
Thomson was first to break the silence.
‘He’s down, let’s hope the rest of the mission goes as smoothly,’ he said before turning to Woody, ‘How are the contingency plans going?’
Woody replied without consulting the increasing pile of paper in front of him.
‘The Army is on a code orange standby at Whanuapai airfield. They can be at the Sky Tower in ten minutes. They have two-helicopter gunships and two carrier helicopters able to take ten assault troops. The men are ready to abseil down if needed.’
Woody paused and his voice took on a surreal cold quality.
‘If we need to use that option we can expect casualties.’
‘What would be the worse case scenario? Asked Gray, as he hadn’t been present when earlier discussions took place.
‘Worst case scenario is that we lose everyone,’ Woody replied, his expression cold and hard. ‘These people are fanatics. They demonstrated this at Blue Water Securities. They are capable, willing and able to follow instructions, even if it means meeting their own death…’
Woody paused for a moment, his face drawn tight as he considered his words.
