Blinding Fear

by Roland, Bruce

  “Not a problem,” Herc replied. “Where we’re going there’s a store or two where you can pick up the stuff you need. No big and tall stores, but I think you’ll get by. What about your family? Shouldn’t you let them know something?”

  “Nobody to notify really. My mom lives in the Bronx. We talk all the time. But what would be the point in telling her anything right now? Haven’t seen my dad since I was two. Had a girlfriend for a while in Denver and thought we’d get married. Seems she found herself a sugar-daddy a few weeks ago. I’m living out of a suitcase in a residential hotel right now.”

  “Sorry,” Herc said. “I didn’t mean.....”

  “Nah. That’s okay. What you folks are offering me is the best thing to come along in quite a while.” He was quiet for a few seconds as he deftly maneuvered around a slow moving semi. “By the way, since we’re all in this frying pan together now, how about calling me by my first name. And if it’s okay I’ll call all of you by yours. Fair enough?”

  “You got it,” Herc said. “Welcome to our frightening new world.” He shifted his attention to his boss. “Kay, once we get there—if we get there—we’ll have to forget the usual pre-flight checklist. We’ll have to cut it back to the essentials. I won’t file a flight plan, either. I don’t want anybody to know where we’re headed. It’s gonna be just jump in and go!”

  “To where?” Claire asked.

  “Earlier, you asked me where we could meet with that other guy you talked to over the satellite phone. I suggested my cabin in Nevada. Maybe we should head there and lay low for a while. It’ll be a little earlier than we expected but things have definitely taken a turn for the worse. While there I’ll plug the celestial coordinates we got from Whalen’s telescope into mine. If it works the way I hope, we can take a look and see what’s out there. I’ve also got some additional software that lets me determine a comet’s direction and speed. I’m guessing that Whalen didn’t know that. If we can tell when and where the comet’s going to hit—if it’s going to hit—that’ll be another big piece of the puzzle you can plug into your article.”

  Just then, DeAngelo swung the limo onto East Fountain Way and sped by the spot where Ludlow’s assassin and his gravel truck had nearly taken them out. A moment later they burst out from between the hangers of the near-deserted Jet Center and came to a sliding stop in front of the Gulfstream. DeAngelo jumped out, transferred the luggage to the plane, opened the passenger door and pulled down the built-in ladder. He quickly came back to the limo and scanned the surrounding area for any new threats. After a few seconds he opened both doors on the right side of the limo. “Looks okay for now. Get out, make it fast and stay low.”

  All three clambered out of the car and did exactly as they were told. A moment later, after again sweeping the airport grounds for any dangers, DeAngelo climbed in himself, barely squeezing his bulky frame through the two-foot wide door. He quickly pulled up the ladder, then closed and locked the door.

  Claire took one of the two seats near the cockpit, while Kay’s newest employee took the other. She listened through the open door as Herc and Kay began their abbreviated pre-flight checklist. At the same time she heard DeAngelo on his cell phone calling his former employer to tell them he was quitting and where to find their limo.

  “Batteries?” Herc asked as he read from a small booklet.

  “On and in the green.” Kay responded.

  “Fuel?”

  “A little over 7,000 pounds.”

  “Good. We can get anywhere on the west coast from here. Engine start.”

  Claire heard the two engines whine to life and begin to “spool up.”

  “Oxygen?”

  “60 percent.”

  “Hydraulics?”

  “The pressure is coming up. Should be in the green about.....now”

  “Cabin pressure?”

  “Coming up. Should be green shortly.”

  “Tire pressure?”

  “Normal.”

  “Engine temperatures?”

  “Normal.”

  “Now the fun starts,” Herc said. “Colorado Springs ground control. This is KS-150.........Request emergency clearance for taxi and immediate departure from 35-left.......That is correct, sir........We’re an air ambulance. We have a human heart on board......LAX........Implantation is scheduled for 0700 tomorrow at L.A. County Medical Center, so time is of the essence.......No, you are correct. We have not filed a flight plan. The organ became available only within the hour.......Thank you, sir. Have a good day.”

  Claire heard the unmistakable sound of two sets of seat belts and harnesses being snapped into place.

  “Okay, gang,” Herc yelled through the cockpit door. “If everybody’s got their seat belts on back there, maybe we can get out of Dodge without any further incidents!”

  She heard the engines increase in power and the plane begin to roll. Within seconds it was taxiing faster than she could ever remember on any other commercial flight. All the imperfections, lumps and bumps in the concrete taxiway were greatly magnified by the increased speed. Thirty seconds later the 150 turned and Claire could see Herc was lining up on the main runway. He didn’t hesitate. The engines immediately roared to full power and the jet began to accelerate rapidly.

  “All systems normal,” Kay said loudly. “50 knots, 80, 100, V1...rotate....Herc! Somethings on the runway! It’s a baggage train!”

  “What the......everybody hold on!!” Herc screamed.

  Claire felt the plane suddenly leap into the air. Her stomach lurched as she heard DeAngelo yell, “What’s goin’ on?!” From the cockpit several chimes and buzzers sounded loudly and a way-too-calm female voice said, “Danger! Stall imminent!” The 150 staggered for a second, shuddered slightly, seemed to settle toward the ground, then miraculously stabilize and continue its climb-out from the airport.

  “Sorry about that,” Herc called back into the passenger cabin. “Seems like Special Agent Ludlow is full of all kinds of tricks today. Had to yank us off the ground sooner than I wanted to get over that baggage train. Another foot lower and we’d have scattered luggage from here to Denver! Everybody okay?”

  “Yeah,” DeAngelo said. “But I almost made a big mess in this little cabin!”

  “I’m okay, too,” Claire added. “But I’m with DeAngelo. I’m glad I haven’t eaten much today.”

  Chapter 34

  “Welcome to beautiful and historic Wendover, Utah,” Herc called out, trying to be heard above the whine of the taxiing G150, “Population 1,705—Gateway to slightly larger, but equally beautiful West Wendover, Nevada. Of course you can gamble in the half-a-dozen casinos in West Wendover but we’ll have to stay out of them.”

  “So what’s historic about Wendover,” DeAngelo asked as he unbuckled his seatbelt.

  “The airport here is where the Enola Gay was stationed before they sent it to the Pacific during World War II.”

  “Enola Gay?” Claire said. “I know I’ve heard that name before. Let me think.....”

  “It’s the name of the B-29 bomber that dropped the first atomic bomb on Hiroshima at the end of World War II,” DeAngelo stated. “The pilot’s name was Paul Tibbets. Enola Gay was his mother’s name.”

  “And just how did you know that? I’m impressed!” Claire asked.

  “Between workouts and games for football and wrestling in high school, it’s the one subject I actually enjoyed. And yeah, I know it’s kind of crazy to think that a super jock like me would study anything. I was the exception to the rule—but only in history.”

  “In case you missed it as we flew over,” Herc continued, “Wendover is also just west of the Bonneville Salt Flats International Speedway. It’s where many of the land speed records for motor-driven vehicles are set every year. With my telescope in the front yard of my cabin you can see some of the activity. It’s in the Nevada mountains above West Wendover. When the atmospherics are just right, you can hear some of the engines when they reach full power—especially the rocket-powered
ones.”

  “To bring us back to the present,” Kay said, breaking in. “Herc and I were talking on the flight here. There are a couple of things we thought we should all understand before we get out. First: nobody uses a credit or debit card. Everything you want to buy must be done with cash.”

  “Whoa!” DeAngelo exclaimed. “I can guess why we can’t use plastic but I might have twenty bucks in my wallet. That’s it! I gotta get some new duds. And they ain’t gonna be cheap for a guy my size!”

  “Everything we need—including whatever clothes you need—is on me, DeAngelo,” Kay replied.

  “That’s fine, and I appreciate it and all, but that could add up to some serious change. I hope you got your own bank somewhere nearby!”

  “As a matter of fact, I do,” Kay said as he levered himself out of the co-pilot’s seat. He made his way past Claire and DeAngelo toward the rear of the passenger cabin. He opened one of the cabinets revealing a small safe. He spun the dial several times, opened it and drew out several stacks of cash. “It’s one of the many things I’ve learned over the years flying around the world. American dollars that you can hold in your hand are very much appreciated by the locals wherever I go. They may not accept American Express or Visa but they will accept these.” He handed a stack to each of them. “That’s two thousand dollars—nothing larger that a twenty. You can see the bills have been widely circulated. I’ve discovered that when doing business with some—shall we call them sketchy—individuals, it’s better to deal in used bills. Fresh, crisp new notes can make them nervous. Around here—since you can gamble in West Wendover, and gambling is one of the ways criminals launder counterfeit money—you pay for anything with a new bill and they’re going to give you and the money very close scrutiny. That’s something we don’t need. I think you’ve already figured out it wouldn’t be advisable to flash the entire wad around here.”

  Just then they all felt the jet come to a gentle stop and the engines begin to spool down. After shutting off the 150’s various systems, Herc clambered out of his seat and stood at the front of the cabin. “Rule Two,” he picked up. “No cell phones as long as we’re in town. I think it’s safe to say that our near-disasters in Colorado Springs were the result of somebody monitoring our calls.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t......” Claire responded.

  “Nothing to be sorry for Claire. I’m not about to blame you for anything. You had to call your boss—that’s all there is to it. Anyway, if we need to call someone we use a landline or satellite phone. Of course, this plane’s got a sat phone and I’ve got a landline at my cabin. So let’s be smart.”

  “Rule Three,” Herc added. “Whenever we’re in town, be inconspicuous. We’ll melt into the woodwork as best we can. No fancy clothes, no spending sprees, we don’t go into bars and buy a round for the house. You know what I mean.”

  “Hey man,” DeAngelo said. “It’s easy for you to say. But when you’re a six foot six, two hundred eighty pound black man in Mormon country, it ain’t gonna be so easy!”

  Herc couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m sorry, DeAngelo. What can I say? Guess I’m not thinking too clear.”

  “No problem.”

  “I’ve got a used car I keep parked in one of the hangars,” Herc continued. “I pay one of the local mechanics to keep an eye on it and give it regular maintenance while I’m away. That way, I can fly in whenever I’ve got some time off, pick up the car and drive to my cabin.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out a key ring with many keys on it, and handed it to DeAngelo. “That’s the key to the hangar, the car—it’s an older Range Rover SUV—and various locks at my house. It’s easy to tell which one goes to the hangar door and car. Why don’t you get everybody comfortable in the car while I head over to the civil aviation check-in desk. I need to make sure the 150 gets fully serviced and fueled.”

  “Got it,” DeAngelo replied as he hoisted his massive frame from the seat. He had to duck while heading toward the cabin door. “Let’s move it folks. Remember the drill: I lead wherever we go. Once things look clean, I signal and you follow. Clear?” He looked at Claire and Kay for confirmation. They simply nodded in return.

  Moments later, in the quickly fading light of early evening, they walked across the heavily weathered tarmac of the 80-plus year old airport. It was a 100-yard stroll to the hangar. Within minutes DeAngelo had opened the outer door, found the Range Rover among many other vehicles and got them settled inside with the air conditioning running at full blast.

  Fifteen minutes later Herc opened the passenger-side front door and jumped in. “All set.” He pointed to a remote control on the sun visor. “That controls the main hangar door. Give her a push and let’s get out of here before it gets too late. Some of the stores that sell clothes and supplies, close at sundown.” He stopped for a second to think. “Tell you what. There’s a thrift store and drug store next door to each other just up the block. Why don’t we stop there first. DeAngelo, you can probably pick up everything you need between the two of them. Claire, why don’t you help him. While you do that, Kay and I will shop for fresh food and other household items we need.”

  An hour and a half later DeAngelo had managed to find some acceptable clothes as well as toiletry items. Herc and Kay picked up emergency food kits and other survival supplies at a camping store. They also bought a substantial amount of fresh fruits, vegetables and frozen foods. Once reunited, and with DeAngelo driving, they headed west out of town on Interstate 80. After about twenty miles they exited onto an unmarked dirt road that headed into the mountains north of the cities. Herc explained it had provided access to a long-since abandoned gravel quarry. As they got away from the I-80 corridor they began a circuitous climb into the rugged peaks that ran north and south on the far-eastern edge of The Silver State.

  After only a few minutes on the rough and sometimes very narrow road, DeAngelo said, “Glad you got a four-wheeler, Herc. I’d hate to take this rabbit trail you call a road in the limo!”

  “Yeah. I know exactly what you mean,” Herc said. “The first time I drove it was in ’09 with my real estate agent. I was looking for a secluded place to build a retreat of sorts where I could go and just get away from things. We were in her car. It was a Cadillac DeVille and the road was a lot rougher. We got about where we are now and she hit a sharp rock and punctured the oil pan. It cost her about a thousand bucks in tow bills and repairs. She was upset about the whole thing, but eventually felt better when she got a fat commission check when I bought the property. After that I figured it’d be a good idea to re-grade the road.”

  “Aren’t you concerned some local crook will discover the place and rip you off?” DeAngelo asked.

  “It has occurred to me, so I try to be secretive when I come to town. Some of the local shopkeepers have asked where my place is but I just give them vague answers. I’ve also got an annunciator alarm on the road coming up. If I’m in the place, I set it so a tone sounds inside the house to tell me somebody’s on the way up. If I’m away, the alarm goes to the local sheriff’s office. There’ve been three alarms that a deputy has responded to. All were wildlife tripping the sensors. While we were on our way here I called ahead to let them know I was coming.”

  Forty-five minutes later DeAngelo swung the Range Rover around one last corner and pulled onto a large, semi-circular flat area that had obviously been cut and graded into the face of the mountain. The SUVs headlights revealed to Claire that it must have been pounded smooth by years of heavy vehicular traffic. She estimated it to be roughly a hundred feet in diameter. On the side opposite the mountain there was a spectacular, unobstructed, 180-degree view of the Great Salt Lake Basin. In the far distance, through the increasing gloom of evening, she could see a thin ribbon of jeweled lights that she guessed was I-80 cutting across the valley floor, headed toward Salt Lake City. On the mountain side was a large cave opening. She estimated it to be 50 feet wide and 30 feet high at its tallest. Centered in its mouth, and recessed well back from the entr
ance, was what looked like two double-wide mobile homes that had been connected to form a much-larger one. From the single flood light that bathed the area she could see their 90 foot length stretched deep into the cave. Very wide picture windows spanned the entire front of the house.

  “Welcome to my home-away-from-home,” Herc said as the Range Rover came to a stop in a small cloud of dust. “Even though it’s just leveled and flattened dirt and rock, I call the this area we’re on my front yard. The gravel company I bought the property from stumbled across a rich vein of turquoise in this cave in 1966,” Herc said. “Their operations lasted until the mid 80s. They cut the front yard to create turn around space for the heavy equipment they used for the mining operation. They also put in the landline telephone at about the same time. Essentially, all they did was lay the wire on the ground, rocks and bushes. Every few months I have to fix it where some animal has decided it might be a tasty snack. Without it I’d be completely cut off. There’s poor cell coverage here.”

  Kay, DeAngelo and Claire got out the Range Rover and walked over to silently admire the view. Herc headed for his home in the cave. “Give me a few minutes while I open the place and get the rest of the lights turned on,” he called over his shoulder.

  Five minutes later additional flood lights sprang on, illuminating the front yard as well as the front of the cave and house further inside. To the right of the cave entrance, 30 or 40 feet up on the hillside, they saw a satellite TV dish. Herc came back out. “Why don’t we get unloaded and move our stuff into the house.”

  “I’m on it,” DeAngelo said as he walked over and opened the rear lift gate of the Range Rover. He began pulling out luggage, bags and boxes as Claire, Kay and Herc joined in.

  “I thought you told us your place was off the grid,” Kay asked looking at the lights.

  “Technically it is. Although I’ve obviously got electricity, nothing here is actually connected to the public power grid. There’s an all-season stream nearby where I installed a micro-hydro electric generator. It gives me consistent power 24-7-365. The average house needs about 8,000 kilowatt hours per year. My unit gives me more than 16,000. The stream also supplies me with clean water through diversion pipes. I’ve got a 1,000-gallon storage tank further back in the cave. I put a reverse osmosis filtration system on it.”