The Matter of the Deserted Airliner

by Levi, Steve;

  “Where?” Ayanna, to her credit, did not begin searching the lobby with her gaze. She just looked casually at Noonan.

  “Far end of the lobby, behind the artificial ferns. At least a camera. Every camera has a commentator so I’d say there were at least two people there.”

  “Just two?”

  “Just two. Means our friends have selected a single ally. They want to clog the airport with the press so they called everyone. But they want us to have an almost free hand in delivering the gems so they only called one press person. Very clever, I must say. They get the gems and we look bad for delivering the stones.”

  “What do we do?”

  “Nothing. If the kidnappers want them to follow us, so be it. But,” there was a twinkle in Noonan’s eye, “we shouldn’t make it too easy for them. When we get the phone call, you go out the front door and get in the car. I’ll head out the back and catch a cab. Maybe I can shake them. At least it’s worth a try. We’ll meet wherever we’re told.”

  “Who do you think they’ll follow?”

  “Me. They figure they can always catch up to you later. I’m the unknown here and that, my dear Ayanna, is where the story is.”

  “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”

  “No,” replied Noonan sadly. “I know human nature.”

  The two relaxed against the counter when the suddenly one of the phones in the bank of instruments behind them began to ring. Ayanna tensed and answered the phone.

  “Ah, Ms. Driscoll. It’s such a pleasure to talk with you at last,” came a soothing male voice over the line. “I applaud your choice of clothing. I assume the valuables are in the fanny pack?”

  Ayanna looked around.

  “You can’t see me, Ms. Ayanna,” the voice continued without missing a beat. “Take my word for it. Now, I assume you have the precious stones in your possession? A total of at least five millions of dollars? Correct?” The voice was smooth and professional, not a hint of excitement.

  Ayanna nodded though she clearly had no idea who was going to see the gesture. Then she said, “I have what I was given and I have been assured there are at least $5 million in the bundle. We’re holding up our end of the bargain. How about letting some of the hostages go?”

  There was a chuckle on the line. “With twenty millions of dollars still on the table? I think not. It was a good try, Ms. Driscoll. I applaud audacity. Just not now. We’ll talk about all matters later.” The phone suddenly went silent.

  Ayanna waited for a moment, looked at the phone in a panic. Then she looked at Noonan. Noonan had no expression on his face. Ayanna spoke into the phone again. “Are you still there?”

  “Of course. You don’t think I’d leave without telling you where to drop off my gems?”

  “Let’s play as few games as possible,” Ayanna said cautiously. “There’s a lot at stake here.”

  “Jolly fine for you to say! You don’t have the police looking for you!”

  “That’s not exactly my fault,” Ayanna snapped. “The gems?”

  “I like a woman who comes right to the point. You do have on your running shoes so let’s get a running start on this,” the voice chortled at his own pun. “There is a pay phone outside the Alaska Railroad terminal on Front Street, on the east side, the mountain side of the passenger terminal. In reality there are three phones but only one of them has an ‘Out of Service’ sign. I will call you there in exactly five minutes. Five minutes as in one, two, three, four, and five. Should give you time to dump the reporters and make it to the phone on time.”

  “What reporters?”

  “Ms. Driscoll!” The voice was humorously testy. “I know they are there because I told them where to go. My gift to the press of the city. We mustn’t, cannot, make it too easy for them. Don’t you agree?”

  “Well, I don’t know what to say.”

  “Don’t say anything. Just make it to the pay phone in five minutes because I will not call twice.” Then the phone went dead.

  Ayanna kept the phone to her ear and, looking straight ahead, mouthed a message to Noonan. “Our first stop is the pay phone at the Alaska Railroad passenger terminal. The pay phones on the east side of the buildings, toward the mountains.”

  Noonan didn’t say a word. He just stepped away from the counter and started walking toward the back entrance. Ayanna put down the phone and headed in the opposite direction, fast but not at a run.

  Chapter 10

  “Which one?” snapped Sam as he dropped the camera to his knee and looked at Gerry. “Or do we split up?”

  “Not a chance. We’ll follow Noonan. The old guy. We can always catch up with Ayanna later. She’s local. He’s not.”

  Almost tumbling over each other they pushed past the ferns. The pot holding the artificial plants fell forward as the two trampled them in their haste to get out of the building. The pot continued rolling as they rushed into the main lobby and made a beeline for the back entrance to the Wickersham lobby. Not a single person in the Wickersham gave them a glance, least of all the bellman who righted the plant and called janitorial to clean up the mess. Sixty years after it had been established the Wickersham was still living up to its reputation as the quietest hotel in Alaska.

  Gerry and Sam made it out the hotel onto the sidewalk just as Noonan got into a cab at the carriage entrance, the only one where a line of cabs were usually waiting. They watched helplessly as Noonan’s cab made a right on Fourth Avenue and headed east.

  “What do we do now?” Sam was out of breath.

  “We’re not out of the ball game yet,” snapped Gerry. “He got an Orange cab. We should be able to track him. Let’s go.” In the next instant she was dashing across the carriage entrance and out onto the sidewalk.

  As luck would have it, another Orange cab was just passing but going in the opposite direction. Gerry dashed out into the street, directly in front of the cab. It slammed on its brakes to avoid hitting her.

  “What are you doing?” The driver stuck his head out of the open window and cursed at her.

  “We need a ride and we need it now!” Gerry and Sam piled into the cab, Gerry in the front seat and Sam in the back, surprising the elderly couple already in the back seat.

  “Emergency,” Sam said to the couple. “We’re on a hot story.”

  “Go! Go! Go!” yelled Gerry as the astonished cabbie looked from Gerry to Sam to the elderly couple in the back. “Go!” she yelled again. “This is an emergency.”

  With gusto the cabbie was off.

  It was wild ride. First, and most probably only, because the cabbie assumed his new passengers were police officers working under cover. The camera was a bit hard to fit into the scenario but the cabbie was clearly not going to take the chance he was wrong. No one, and particularly a cabbie in a small town, wanted to be on the wrong side of the Anchorage Police Department.

  The elderly couple clearly thought the two were with the police. There was a gold glow in the cab with both the cabbie and his initial passengers believing they were assisting the police in apprehending some miscreant who had purloined valuable property from person or person unknown. The cabbie even went so far as to get the destination of the other Orange cab: the Alaska Railroad terminal. The glow ended when the octogenarian asked Sam if the police “always filmed their pursuits?”

  “We’re not the police,” said Sam. “We’re reporters trying to capture the kidnappers of those people on Unicorn 739.”

  With those words the cabbie slammed on his brakes and tossed Gerry and Sam out of his cab. He drove off, leaving Gerry and Sam standing on the corner of Fourth and F watching helplessly as the cab drove away, the elderly couple waving at them out of the rear window.

  “What now?” asked Sam.

  “We get another cab,” Gerry said simply. “Now we know where we’re going!”

  A minute later they were in a Cheechako Cab on their way to the Alaska Railroad terminal.

  Chapter 11

  Two fishing poles went int
o the row boat. So did the trash can liner. Everything had to be perfect. A lot of people were depending on perfect. P-E-R-F-E-C-T. The empty beer cans clattered in the trash bag. The Fisherman dragged the bag back and forth across the bottom of the boat before tossing it forward. The bag had to look used.

  It wasn’t a large boat but it was a good one. Good enough for a two-person fishing excursion. Got the bug juice for the mosquitoes. Sun screen. Ripped shirt and worn jeans, old socks, Sitka slippers. Couple pair of sunglasses, old and twisted. Lots of fishing gear. Gotta be authentic.

  Chapter 12

  Ayanna was already at the pay phone when Noonan arrived. She had stripped the Out Of Order sign off the phone in the center and was leaning against the telephone shelf, her left hand on the phone. She had a pen and a pad of paper in her right, pen poised for action.

  “I see you lost our friends with the press.” Ayanna searched the parking lot for the reporters and verbally expressed her pleasure at seeing none of them. She knew better than to assume she had lost them – particularly since they had been tipped where to start looking for herself and Noonan.

  “Hardly,” said Noonan. “I slowed them down. Maybe. I doubt I lost them. The press has a tendency to be quite tenacious.”

  Noonan was correct in his assessment. Just as soon as the phone started ringing, a Cheechako Cab pulled up. Gerry and Sam tumbled out as Ayanna answered the phone. The cameraman was setting up for a shot even before the cab stopped moving. Gerry could be seen throwing money at the cabbie. The cabbie didn’t seem to mind. He just took the money and sat. He knew a paying customer when he saw one.

  “Ah, I see our intrepid reporters are still on scent.” The voice on the phone was still cool and confident.

  “Very funny,” said Ayanna. “If you wanted them to follow us, why didn’t we all go together like a big happy family?”

  “It would take all the fun out of it! Now, your next stop is the Federal Building. You shouldn’t have any trouble getting in with both of you carrying badges. It should slow the reporters down. Go in the east entrance, next to the hideous modern art monstrosity hanging on the north wall. Do you know where I mean?”

  “Oh, yeah,” replied Ayanna. “The pink walrus with the hanging bird nest.”

  “Yes, yes. The very one. Hideous artwork such as it is. It’s amazing what the Federal government will do with its money. Talk about a poor excuse for art.”

  “. . .and when we get there,” prompted Ayanna.

  “Proceed toward the library in the main lobby. There you will find another bank of pay phones. Then go. . .”

  “Let me guess,” broke in Ayanna. “Go the pay phone listed as ‘Out of Order.’”

  “You are getting very good at this, aren’t you?” There was humor in the voice. “Very, very good. Correct. Go to the phone listed as ‘Out of Order’ and I’ll call you. Once again. Three minutes. No longer.”

  “We’ll be talking to you.” Ayanna hung up the phone. To Noonan she said, “I don’t think we can outrun the press but the next stop will slow them down. We’re going into the Federal building.”

  “The big square one with the ugly art?”

  “Ah,” said Ayanna in mock surprise. “I see you’ve been there before.”

  “Worst art I have ever seen.” Noonan shook his head sadly, “What the public pays for what some people call art!”

  “But,” said Ayanna cautiously raising an index finger. “We have a bit of an edge this time. We can get in easily because we’ve got badges. Our friends with the press,” she inclined her head toward Gerry and Sam trying to look inconspicuous in a parking lot where they were the only ones with no luggage “are going to have a hard time getting through security. It’ll give us a minute or so to plan our next move.”

  “Let’s go. Let’s not make it too easy for the press.”

  The actual drive between the Alaska Railroad terminal and the Federal Building in Anchorage was five blocks so the three minute limit was adequate for the drive. But it was not adequate to find parking. Parking in downtown Anchorage, particularly during the summer, was another matter altogether. Ayanna’s car didn’t have police plates so she was just as likely to be impounded as anyone else. In reality more likely because the Anchorage Police knew the State of Alaska would pay for every ticket issued–promptly. Besides the ticket, she could not afford to be impounded because she was going to need the car for the next destination.

  Ayanna did have two distinct advantages. First, she was driving a car with State of Alaska license plates. While such was bad news when it came to parking on the street, it was good news when it came to parking lots. There were a lot of state-funded parking lots in downtown Anchorage. All she had to do was pull into one of the state parking lots and leave her car anywhere. No one was going to impound a state vehicle in a state parking lot.

  The second advantage was she had been a probation officer before she was hired to run security for the Anchorage International Airport. The Probation Office was right across the street from the Federal Building. So she pulled into a space marked “Director, Adult Probation” just off 8th Street and turned off the engine. Her old job. Her old space.

  “How many more of these stops are we going to have to make?” asked Ayanna as she hit the flasher button on her car. Instantly all of the lights on the dashboard started pulsing.

  “No way of knowing,” replied Noonan as he opened the passenger door and stepped out. Out of the corner of his eye he could see a nondescript car pull into a handicapped parking space on A Street alongside a mail box across the street from the Federal Building. Noonan pointed out the car to Ayanna. “These guys are pros. They know the FBI are following us – somewhere out there,” Noonan pointed obliquely toward the sidewalk choked with professional dressed men and women hurrying along. “They know the FBI is going to be moving as fast as we are but they don’t appear to care. I think they just want to make sure the press is close enough to get a story.”

  “They clearly want the publicity.”

  “Yes, I agree with you,” said Noonan. “I haven’t figured out why yet. Usually the bad boys and girls want to keep things like this as quiet as possible.”

  “Kidnapping 95 people kind of makes it public.”

  Noonan gave a humorous grunt.

  Ayanna and Noonan carefully crossed the street and headed for the back entrance to the Federal Building as Gerry and Sam snarled traffic on the adjacent street as they jetted from a taxi cab and dashed across the street. Traffic swerved, honked and cursed.

  “Our friends had better watch what they are doing or they won’t be alive to make tonight’s broadcast,” said Ayanna snidely without looking at Noonan or in the direction of Sam and Gerry.

  In the next instant Ayanna and Noonan were inside. Waving badges they were given a cursory check and stepped through the metal detectors – preceded by apologies from the security personnel.

  “Sorry, Sir, Ma’am. Everyone has to go through the detectors.”

  “Not a problem,” Noonan said, casually looking over his shoulder at Sam and Gerry rushing up the steps. “Just do your job.”

  Free of the security checkpoint, Ayanna and Noonan headed for the phone bank. The phones were not hard to find. The phone with the ‘Out of Order’ sign was exactly where the voice had said it would be. It was on the last phone next to a hallway disappearing into the bowels of the building. Noonan took a quick look down the hallway and noticed a dozen office doors, all of them open. No one seemed to be lurking in any of them.

  The Federal Building lobby was surprisingly empty as well. There were three people sitting on the benches next to the pool of water and sculpture dominating the back wall of the massive mezzanine. A handful of people could be seen at the cafeteria entrance next to the security checkpoint at the back of the building and the checkpoint at the front door was devoid of anyone except three security personnel lounging with cups of coffee waiting for their next victim.

  Sam and Gerry had made it through
the checkpoint and were trying to make themselves appear as paint on a sidewall. They might have been inconspicuous had it not been for Sam’s lens staring at Noonan like the unblinking eye of a Cyclops.

  Then the phone rang.

  “It is us,” said Ayanna into the receiver.

  “Of course it is,” replied the voice. “I never had any doubt you would arrive on time and with the press still in tow.”

  “OK. We’re here. The press is here. What’s next?”

  “Nothing. This is you last stop. Without looking down, slide your hand underneath the writing desk of this phone, where the telephone book is supposed to be.”

  Ayanna slid her hand down and felt for the phone book.

  It wasn’t there.

  It was nothing but an empty ledge.

  “OK. There’s nothing here.”

  “Pre-cisely,” the voice said. “Now, still without looking down, put the little bag of gems on the empty shelf.”

  Ayanna reached around behind her back to the fanny pack and extracted the leather bag. She gave it a little shake and slipped it onto the shelf.

  “Now what.”

  “Now, you leave. Go back the way you came in. Do not look back, just keep walking.” The phone went dead.

  Ayanna hung up the receiver. “He wants us to go now.”

  Noonan nodded and they headed toward the back entrance avoiding looking at the lens following their every move.

  Nothing happened until they passed the bank of elevators when there was suddenly the distinct, acrid smell of smoke. Then the smell became overpowering. In the next instant, every fire alarm in the Federal Building erupted into a screech at the same moment. A heartbeat later the lobby was jammed with a wave of humanity moving in one direction: out. Ayanna and Noonan only had time to look back once before they were picked up by the frightened human wave and swept outward. Noonan lost sight of Gerry and Sam in the melee.