by R D Shah
Shroder wanted to scream down the phone at him but he didn’t. He knew how professional the man was, and how sometimes these types of operations that were thrown together at the last moment went spectacularly wrong – as it had done tonight. ‘It’s not your fault, Karl, and the people we’re dealing with are extremely well trained. The blame is all mine for dropping it into your lap at such short notice.’ Shroder paused for a moment as the ambulance jerked forward on beginning its trip back to base. ‘I’m heading to the hospital to get checked out. I should be there for an hour or so.’
‘You may want to hold off on that.’
‘Why?’ Shroder replied and now resisting the medic’s attempt to lie him out flat on the gurney.
‘I’ve got a location on the car of those visitors to Bekhit’s apartment, if you want it?’
‘I want it,’ Shroder grunted.
‘It’s at the airbus facility just across the river from you.’
‘Good job. I’ll call you right back.’
The line went dead, but Shroder was already banging on the metal partition separating him from the driver. ‘Stop the car!’
The ambulance came to an abrupt halt, and Shroder began moving towards the doors even as the paramedic beside him raised a warning hand and shook his head.
‘I can’t let you do that, sir. You need to be checked out at the hospital.’
It was Shroder who was now shaking his head. ‘What I need is to get out of this ambulance right now,’ he insisted, retrieving the credentials from his pocket before waving them in front of the unhappy-looking paramedic. ‘Do you understand me?’
The man took one look and with a defeated sigh turned to the doors and pushed them open, allowing Shroder out on to the road whereupon, without pause, the ambulance disappeared off into the night.
Well then Bekhit, Shroder thought to himself, it looks like you might have been of some use to me after all.
Chapter 37
With a puff of black smoke from its wheels, the Gulf Stream touched down at Lajes airport in Terceira and taxied over to one of the vacant parking bays on the far side of the runway. The aircraft had hardly come to a complete stop before Harker had opened the cabin door and was making his way down the steps and onto the tarmac. He was closely followed by Chloe and Brulet who spent a few moments stretching to loosen the stiffness in their muscles induced by having to sit in one position during the journey. The Gulf Stream 450 was one of the most spacious and comfortable airplanes in its class, but not being able to stand fully upright for such a prolonged period meant that most passengers were just as excited at simply being able to exit the aircraft as they were at reaching their destination.
‘We should be ready to go in about another fifteen minutes,’ Brulet announced, pointing out a cylindrical grey refuelling truck that was rumbling down one of the taxiways towards them. ‘I’ll stay here with the plane but if you want to stretch your legs, now is the time to do it. Just don’t go far.’ he warned, sounding like a watchful father. ‘This base serves as a military outpost for the Portuguese air force, as well as for a detachment of the US air force, and last thing we need now is either of you being arrested for trespassing.’
‘Noted,’ Harker acknowledged, grateful for the warning. He had never visited the Azores before and was glad to have the chance even if it was just a short stop-over. The Azores is comprised of a small group of islands and although the main tourist spot was the larger island of São Miguel ninety miles to the west, the landscape here was nonetheless just as beautiful, affording a view of lush green vegetation surrounding the mountain towering at the island’s centre. What was more impressive to Harker, though, was the fleet of American military aircraft that made up the 65 Airbase wing currently parked up at the other side of the airfield. The row of F-15 Eagles, complemented by three A-10 thunderbolt IIs, was a remarkable sight to behold but even these were put to shame by the two gigantic Boeing C-17 Globemasters at the far end. With a wingspan of fifty-two metres, these majestic leviathans were used to transport anything from a company of soldiers to an M1 Abrams main battle tank with six supporting armoured security vehicles, and Harker found himself rooted to the spot as he took in the magnificent sight.
‘What is it with men and machines?’ Chloe grumbled, as she joined him in surveying the spectacle.
‘What is it with psychiatrists and crazy people?’ Harker replied and receiving a look of astonishment from Doctor Stanton, whose mouth had dropped wide open.
‘That’s not all we do, Alex,’ she replied with an amused smile. ‘It’s a bit more scientific than that, I assure you.’
‘So is finding a way to lift 265 tonnes into the air and then land it safely,’ he replied, pointing out the two parked-up C-17s.
His response had Chloe rolling her eyes teasingly, and then they both stood in silence and watched as a small passenger jet throttled up its engines, took off down the runaway and passed them before effortlessly lifting up into the evening sky.
‘Alex,’ Chloe asked, and ending this peaceful moment between them, ‘what are we doing here?’
Her question had Harker looking confused and he offered the obvious answer. ‘Well, at the moment we’re refuelling.’
‘No,’ Chloe shook her head, ‘I mean going to Caracas to find this child. What on earth do we do when we find him, and how is that in any way going to stop all the mayhem going on at the moment?’
It was a question that Harker was surprised she had not asked up until now, and the real problem for him was that he didn’t have an answer. ‘Chloe, I would be lying to you if I said I knew, because during the past few days everything I have ever believed in has been thrown into question.’
‘That’s a fair answer but it still doesn’t explain what finding the child is going achieve,’ Chloe continued.
‘Honestly I don’t know,’ he said, raising his hands in the air despairingly. ‘Maybe everything awful will just stop and we’ll go back to the way it was… Maybe God will ride down to earth on an angelic chariot of fire and declare war upon evil throughout the world … Maybe nothing will happen at all… I just don’t know.’ He almost yelled the last words, frustrated by his own feeble lack of insight. ‘But ever since visiting Chernobyl I’ve had this strange feeling that finding the child will solve everything. I can’t explain how but there it is.’ He gave a deep sigh. ‘Besides what else can we do? This is it, Chloe, our only lead – and we have to follow it through to its conclusion.’
She watched him blankly as he now returned his attention to the fleet of military aircraft. ‘Well, thank you, Alex, that has certainly cleared things up for me.’
Harker snapped his head around to face her, and was met with a friendly smile and he immediately started laughing. ‘Clear as mud…’
‘Mud is right,’ she echoed. ‘So you’re not pinning everything on the fourth Secret anymore … do you think there ever was one?’
‘I don’t think so, and I would wager that Marcus Eckard’s imagination got the better of him.’ Harker gave a shake of his head and now noticed how glum she appeared again. ‘Look, Chloe,’ he said pleasantly and without any bitterness whatsoever, ‘I have no idea what we’re going to find in Caracas, and if you want to bow out now, I wouldn’t blame you in the least.’ He reached inside his jacket, pulled out his wallet and picked out his Lloyds credit card, then held it out towards her between his two fingers. ‘Why not stay here on the island until this whole thing has hopefully blown over. It’s on me’
Without a pause, Chloe plucked the card from his fingers and dropped it back into his top pocket. ‘That’s very kind of you to offer, Alex, but you and I are in this until the end. And, anyway, I don’t think this is going to just blow over, do you?’
‘No, I don’t,’ Harker conceded with a shake of his head, ‘and I can’t tell you how glad I am to hear you say that.’
The remark made her smile and she reached over and squeezed his forearm. ‘Because despite how pushy I’ve been, deep down yo
u want me with you on this trip, don’t you?’
Harker stared at her silently for a few moments before patting his top pocket and the credit card snugly tucked away inside it. ‘Actually it’s because this credit card’s maxed out … so it’s totally useless … Phew.’ He started to laugh.
‘You cheeky bastard,’ she exclaimed but still retained her smile. ‘Maybe I should catch a lift home with them,’ – pointing over to the military jets – ‘or not.’ The smile had disappeared and was replaced with a look of surprise.
Harker himself turned towards the row of F-15 Eagles to see a bunch of flight engineers busily scrambling around underneath them in a flurry of organised chaos, while to the side of them a number of masked pilots dressed in grey flight suits began entering their respective cockpits.
Harker and Chloe watched in curiosity as, one by one, the cockpit visors closed and the jets began taxiing towards the far end of the runway.
‘What do they know that we don’t?’ Harker managed just as a vibration rumbled beneath their feet. They looked at each other apprehensively as they felt another tremor, stronger this time, and from the military side of the runway the sounds of sirens began to wail. From inside the hangars a number of army trucks filled with personnel poured out on to the side road, then began heading towards the airport’s main entrance at high speed, each with its own siren blaring loudly.
‘Alex!’ Chloe yelled as she directed Harker’s attention to what looked like a spray of red neon being spat out from the side of the mountain in the distance, followed by a massive explosion sending the top portion of it away in massive plume of rock and dust. This was followed by a deafening explosion that had both of them clasping their ears in pain. As Harker peered though squinting eyes, he could make out a line of distortion on the ground hurtling towards them, and he instinctively threw his arms around Chloe protectively. Before he could say anything, the shockwave hit and sent them both up into the air before landing them back onto the hard tarmac, with Harker taking the brunt of the impact. They looked up and watched, as in the distance, the island’s central mountain began to spit red-hot lava from a jagged opening created by the initial blast, sending liquid fire seeping down its side and towards the forests below.
Harker pulled himself and Chloe to their feet even as more F-15 Eagles roared towards the end of the runway and took their place in the queue.
‘We have to go,’ he shouted over the rumbling of both the fiery volcano and the jets now flying past them and up in the air. ‘Don’t let go,’ he yelled and gripped tightly on to Chloe’s hand as she struggled to maintain her balance over the tremors that continued to shake the ground underneath them. Harker only just managed to keep his own balance as he stumbled towards the Gulf Stream with his arm around her waist, to find Brulet ordering the fuel truck to disengage its nozzle. The operator, though, was having none of it and was already running in the opposite direction, so Brulet staggered over to the fuel hose and uncoupled the safety valve leaving them free to leave.
‘Let’s go,’ Brulet shouted, before heading inside the aircraft which was already starting up its engines.
It was only sixty metres to the jet but the ground was shaking so violently that Harker found it difficult to navigate the black tarmac, which was beginning to tear apart in places. Spurred on at the thought of being left behind, he grabbed Chloe and lifted her up onto his shoulder – and just ran. He came close to tripping over twice but at each instance managed to regain his balance, and twenty seconds later they had reached the entrance hatch and he was hauling himself and her into the cabin even as the jet began to move.
‘They’re aboard,’ Brulet shouted loudly to the pilots and in response the engines began to power up further.
Harker heaved the door shut and took to the seat next to Chloe, who was already buckling herself in.
‘Where the hell did that volcano come from?’ she cried out in disbelief, her eyes fixed on the window as they taxied towards the end of the runway, to join a shortening line of waiting F-15s.
‘That’s what the Azores are,’ Harker explained, also captivated by the terrifying sight of a thick stream of lava making its way now through the forest towards them while igniting everything it got close to in a burst of flames. ‘There are four stratovolcanoes on this island alone, but none has been active for centuries.’
‘That doesn’t look inactive to me,’ snapped Chloe, focusing her attention now on the dark clouds of ejected material that went billowing upwards into the red evening sky as well as heading down towards them.
‘God, it’s moving fast,’ Harker yelled, the cloud of debris getting closer with every passing second. He then turned his attention to the last few F-15’s throttling up, even as another roared past them and up into the air. ‘We’re not going to make it,’ he yelled. ‘If all that dust hits our engines, we’re not going anywhere.’
But Brulet was already ahead of him, barking orders to the pilot before Harker had even finished speaking. ‘Get on that runway now,’ Brulet instructed, pointing to the tight space intervening between the F-15 currently taking off and the last one readying itself directly behind.
Without hesitation, the pilot jammed his feet down hard on to the right rudder. The aircraft reacted immediately and careened off the taxi-way and headed straight across a narrow strip of grass, nearly clipping the wing of the departing F-15 Eagle.
The Gulf Stream’s engines were already being pushed to full throttle before it had even properly lined up with the runway. The momentum of this lifted the aircraft up onto only two wheels, so the dipped wing came within inches of making contact with the tarmac, before the elevated wheel dropped back down again with a hefty thump. A collective sigh of relief ran through the cabin as the Gulf Stream now hurtled towards the end of the runway, even as the immense ash cloud reached the airfield’s perimeter. The jet lifted off the ground and sped upwards just as the peripheral buildings below were enveloped in a thick black mass of noxious gases and displaced earth that continued to unload devastation upon everything in its path.
‘Did the last jet make it?’ Harker shouted anxiously, straining to see out through the side window and back towards the cloud of dust that had covered the runway. His question was answered with a thunderous boom from two glowing Pratt and Whitney F100 engines that zipped past them at high speed. The F-15 then dipped its wings from left to right in friendly acknowledgment that their queue-jumping had been warranted and acceptable. Either that or the pilot was severely pissed off and considering now shooting them down. Either way all the planes had made it safely off the ground, which was more than could be said for some of the ground staff.
‘Bloody hell, that was close.’ Chloe groaned.
‘I’ll say,’ Harker replied before turning to Brulet, who still looked extremely concerned and was already shouting up towards the cockpit. ‘Did we get enough fuel?’
The pilot glanced back at him with a deep frown and nodded his head slowly. ‘I think so, yes. Just as long as we don’t encounter a strong headwind which will mean burning up more fuel getting there. In which case it’s going to be close.’
Brulet said nothing but he shot Harker a concerned glance.
‘Have faith, Sebastian.’ Harker ordered before glancing at Chloe reassuringly. ‘Our luck’s held out so far… we’ll make it. Everything is going to be fine.’
Chapter 38
‘This is going to be tight,’ the pilot yelled, as another streak of blue lightning ripped through the air just metres off their right wing, followed by a monstrous clap of thunder which had both men clasping their hands around the ear mics.
Harker looked over to see Chloe clutching desperately on to her armrest with white knuckles, whereas Brulet looked oddly at ease despite the incessant turbulence, and was talking into his satellite phone. This extreme thunderstorm had flared up within minutes and, even though San José airport was only thirty miles away, the pilots had been considering re-routing to a closer destination. Ordinarily th
at would not have presented a problem but since the closer airfields had all been closed due to adverse weather conditions, this left San José as the only option. Their problems had been further compounded by the fuel issue, since the high winds generated by the thunderstorm had slowed down the aircraft’s speed, thus draining more of their precious liquid. This meant that they would be making their final approach solely on fumes, which is never good even in perfect weather conditions, let alone during a thunderstorm like this one.
‘A helicopter will be waiting for us at San José to transport us to Mancuria National Park,’ Brulet shouted out over another clap of thunder as he put away the satellite phone. ‘That is of course, if we ever make it to San José.’
Harker and Chloe glanced at each other with concern as Brulet sprouted a mocking smile. ‘Seriously, like you said, it’s going to be fine,’ he continued, before turning his head to the rain-lashed window and enjoying, as best he could under the circumstances, the impressive lighting show outside.
Harker failed to see the humour of the comment and sat back in his seat, his muscles noticeably tenser with every fresh crack of thunder. Since having to make an emergency landing on Lake Bracciano months earlier as a result of Lusic Bekhit’s treachery, he had found his love affair with aviation considerably diminished. He still enjoyed flying, of course, and nothing would ever change that, but these days it was only when the skies were clear and not amidst the life-risking conditions they were now facing.
‘We’ll be making our approach in the next few minutes,’ the pilot informed them loudly, then paused as yet another lightning bolt lit up the cabin’s interior in a bluish hue, while the whole aircraft bucked mid-air as they entered another pocket of heavy turbulence. ‘Make sure you’re strapped in tightly.’
His last instruction was met with blank expressions from Harker and Chloe, who had both tightened their belts to the point of suffocation upon hearing the first clap of thunder. The man waved a hand reassuringly and turned back to the windscreen, and the rain across it, as he continued his struggle to keep the Gulf Stream straight and level.
