The sound of someone whistling stopped Arif and he saw a mechanic, head down, whistling as he walked straight at him, on the Starboard walkway. Suddenly, the Mechanic looked up startled, “What the-?”
Arif kneeled and snapped off a short burst from his Uzi, which knocked the Mechanic backward, onto the Walkway floor. Arif walked up to the body and kicked it. Getting no response, he knelt to look at the gold chain around the Mechanic's neck. Suddenly, a wrench came up and whacked the commando across the collarbone. He fell, dropping his Uzi. The dying Mechanic struggled to get the gun before Arif can recover. He got it but fired the weapon widely. Arif wrests the Uzi away and beats his head with it. He then fires a shot to make sure the Mechanic is dead. He staggered up and leaned against the railing, gulped air and held his collarbone. Then he kicked the body over the edge of the walkway to fall to the ship’s hull.
Smitty is monitoring his engine gauges and Phil has his feet up on the desk, a manual in his hands.
“Hey Smitty,” he said as he continued to look at the book, “I think we should put an order in for one of these German-built fire snuffers. They claim it puts a fire out in under one second when activated.”
Smitty turned to look at the photo that Phil pointed to. He nodded his head and said; “After we finish . . .” He was interrupted by a knock at the door to the engine room. He looked at the door. “It's open!” One moment later there was another knock, “I said it's open!”
After a moment, when nobody entered, Phil shook his head and got up and opened the door. He is met by a single shot which kills him instantly. As Smitty turned in his chair, Hamadan and Said are already in the room. Hamadan fired one shot that killed Smitty.
As the ship flies out of sight, Dan approached the man and woman that sat in the lounge chairs. They watched him with crooked smiles on their faces. What’s with these two? Dan thought, they act as though people fall out of the air every day. He squinted through salt-dried eyelids and it clicked in his head. Both were in their middle fifties, thin and dressed in cut-offs and sandals and had love beads around their necks. Both had long white hair and the man’s was pulled back in a ponytail that said it all: Hippies. They were passing a joint of marijuana back and forth between them. As Dan approached the man put his hand out.
“Hey man. What’s happening? I’m Lonnie and this here’s my old lady, Cheryl.” He looked at Dan through half closed eyes as he continued. “So, like, did you just like, fall out of that blimp, man?” Both laugh at this.
Dan stood there not believing what was going on. “Something like that,” he answered as he brushed dried sand from his hair. “Can I use your phone? It’s an emergency.”
The woman looked at him and offered him some of the marijuana. “There's no phone, man.”
“What? No phone?”
She passed the joint to Lonnie after Dan waved it off. “I said there ain't no phone. Like, we don’t need one man.”
Lonnie took a pull on the joint then offered it to Dan again. “Sure, you don’t wanna hit, dude?”
Dan just stood there and stared at them both. “There has to be a phone! I have to contact the . . .“ He looked at them and realized the last thing they’ll want is to hear that he wanted to call the police. “Uh, look . . . “ he said as he dug into his pocket for cash, “ . . . If you'll get me to a phone - any phone…”
Lonnie shrugged his shoulders as he said, “Dude! My woman already told you: There ain't no phone. We oughta know - it is our island.”
Cheryl joined in. “It ain't big, but it’s home.” They both started to laugh at that.
Dan’s jaw dropped as he said to himself, “I must be having a nightmare.”
Lonnie chastised him with, “And as for your money: We're not part of this screwed-up society; everyone playing stupid games; . . . “
Frustrated, Dan looked around trying to figure his next move as Lonnie went on, “ . . . Chasing the almighty dollar; stabbing each other in the back, then sending Hallmark Hall of Fame Get-Well-Soon-And-Screw-You-Too Cards.”
Dan rubbed his eyes and focused again. He looked at the poor excuse of a dock. Tied up at the dock was a Cessna single engine seaplane.
“Hey! You've got a Cessna!” he said excitedly.
Cheryl turned and followed his gaze. “Huh? Oh, the plane.”
Dan said excitedly, “There's a radio on the plane. Right?”
She shrugged her shoulders, took another drag and answered as she inhaled. “The radio? Lonnie, the radio on the plane still works?”
“It depends babe.”
“It depends? It depends on what?” She asked.
“It depends on ... on whether it still works or not.” Now they laugh like mad. Disgusted with them, Dan ran to the Cessna. Lonnie jumped up and followed him.
Dan got to the dirty, blue aircraft, walked out on the rickety little dock and gingerly stepped onto the pontoon. It dipped slowly with his weight and he quickly opened the door and slid in. He lifted the mike and pressed the send button. “Dead!” He is so depressed he just sat there trying to think.
He suddenly got a determined look on his face. He reached and grabbed the throttle and pumped it a few times then hit the starter button. The engine started, then backfired, sputtered and quit. He goes through the start sequence again as Lonnie got to the dock, clearly out of breath.
“Dude, where are goin’ with my airplane?”
The engine started again, then sputtered and quit.
“Dude, use the choke till she’s warmed up.” Lonnie shook his head and shrugged his shoulders then asked, “Man, like are you a pilot? I mean, do you have a license?”
The engine started and Dan played with the choke. It smoothed out.
“Hey man,” Lonnie looked up at Dan as he sat in the cockpit, “I need that plane to go once a month for . . .for, ah, for supplies and stuff.”
Dan threw down all the cash he had in his pocket. “Here Lonnie. Listen; believe me when I say I need this aircraft. I’m with the police, sort of, and I have to commandeer it for a little bit. I’ll bring her back, promise.”
Lonnie stared at him, “Police? You mean like the cops? But man, this here is private property. And as for my goodies, I only grow what we need, you know what I mean. You go ahead and borrow ‘Ol’ Weed Wacker,’ but ya got to bring her back. Okay man?”
Dan spotted the Navy Pilots wings in the visor and asked, “Navy pilot?”
Lonnie nodded and with a grin said, ”Yeah! I was a hot stick back in ‘Nam. Flew F-4s. Heady stuff dude, very, very heady stuff.” He untied the rope that held his little plane to the dock and gave a short snappy salute. “Go get ’em man.”
Dan waved and pulled the door closed even as he advanced the throttle. The engine skipped a beat then accelerated. As the aircraft accelerated, Dan tried to remember all he could about the few lessons he had. He looked at the airspeed indicator; it had a blue line of tape on the dial at the seventy mile-per-hour mark. “That must be liftoff speed,” he said to no one. The aircraft picked up speed as it bumped along on the surface, and he was surprised at how hard the water felt. “Damn! This is rougher than a grass strip. Hope she holds together.” Finally, the needle crept up to seventy MPH and Dan felt the wings start to grab the air flowing over them. He eased the stick back slowly as he spoke to himself. “Easy Danny Boy. Don’t stall her now. Keep the nose low till we get some more flying speed under us.” Finally, he was doing ninety miles an hour and eased back off the throttle a bit. He checked the compass and set course due south after the Sky Ship and his wife.
Mike Hanson mopped one of the small platforms that the trolley stopped at. He mopped in time to The Expressions, a Doo Wop group, that sing A cappella on a small CD player in his pocket. The earphones were tight and he removed them to adjust the tension. It was then he heard someone behind him on the main walkway, turned and saw Said grinning as he pointed an Uzi at him. Mike never even uttered a sound as Said squeezed off a short burst killing him instantly.
On th
e starboard walkway; Arif and Hamadan are hiding behind an aluminum girder as two crewmen are walking towards them. Both are dressed in deep blue coveralls. One stopped short and pointed at Arif’s foot that stuck out of a slight shadow on the walkway. “What’s that?”
Both terrorists stepped out on the walkway and faced them. Both crewmen were speechless at the sight of the two men brandishing weapons. Mansur walked down the same walkway and said, “What do we have here?”
Hamadan kept his pistol on them and answered, “We don’t know yet.”
Mansur arrived and stepped forward. “Larkin,” he said as he fingered the white stitching on the man’s coveralls. “Tell us, Mr. Larkin: What are your duties on this airship?”
“I'm- I'm the- the Load Master. I- I weigh the cargo.”
Mansur grabs him by the collar, “I know what a Load Master does. Your services are not needed again until the end of the flight, correct?”
Larkin stammered as his eyes watched the pistol, “Y-Yes.”
Mansur snarled his lips, “Well, then, consider this . . . ” He pointed his 9mm at Larkin's head, “ . . . the end of your flight.” He pulled the trigger and Larkin crumbled at his feet. Next, he stepped up to Harry Slade.
“And you, Mr. Slade. And what are your duties aboard this ship?
Harry looked him dead in the eye and answered with a calculated lie, “Chief Mechanic.”
“Ah ha!” said Mansur and gave a mock bow at the waist. “The Chief Mechanic!” He put a hand on Harry's shoulder and Harry stiffened. “You, my Chief, will be well cared for.” He turned to Hamadan, “Put him in with the Flight Crew.”
Harry exhaled silently as he is led away at gunpoint.
Jennifer bit her knuckle as she hid in a storage area beneath the walkway. She witnessed the entire scene.
Back up front in the passenger’s lounge; the hostages sit on the floor surrounded by the terrorists. There is some muffled weeping and murmuring but no protests as they can see the two dead passengers still lying on the floor to remind them of the consequences. Levon and Joan maintain concerned but determined expressions.
Hadi and Kassem are guarding the remaining Flight Crew in the gondola as the door from the passenger’s lounge opened. Colonel Aziz entered with Karim a short, but well-built man. “Check it all out Karim, and give me a report.”
The small man walked to the consol and scanned the controls before he answered the colonel. “The ship is on auto-pilot my colonel.”
Aziz nodded and said, “Can you handle her?”
Karim nodded and tested a few switches, “Yes. It shouldn’t be too difficult. The blueprints were very helpful.”
Aziz smiled and said to Hadi and Kassem, “Remove them.”
Hadi and Kassem begin to take the Flight Crew out when Captain Eckener stopped in front of Aziz.
“Are you the leader of these murderers?
Colonel Aziz stopped them. He gave him a cold sneer and said, “Captain Hugo Eckener . . . ”
Eckener is visibly shocked at hearing this.
Aziz continued, “Let's see: Graduate of the U.S. Naval Academy, 1963; six years as a naval pilot before receiving a medical discharge; and twenty-five years as a commercial aviator . . . Yes, I am the commanding officer here. But I don't think that referring to these men as murderers is accurate, Captain.” He tapped his finger on Eckener’s tunic as he finished. “They are all highly trained and very dedicated experts in their field. In fact, the new pilot of this magnificent airship has flown with Goodyear and Germanys' Zeppelin. He knows every inch of a lighter-than-air ship.”
Eckener tilted his head towards the other two. “And what would their fields be?”
Aziz spread his hands as he shrugged his shoulders. “Combat, Captain. Political combat, in this case. You'll learn more when I address the passengers and crew.” He turned to Hadi and ordered, “Go.” They took the Flight Crew out of the gondola.
Dan flew in and out of some fog. The engine sputtered a few times and he nearly panicked. He went back to his old habit of talking to himself, something he used to do when he had a problem. He gazed at the gauges then outside for the airship. He was doing all this while trying to remember his flight instructor’s instructions and come up with a plan at the same time. He thought out loud, ‘Let's move to Florida,’ she said. ‘It’ll be fabulous. You can take up a hobby or get a job where they understand you. The New York Police Department doesn't appreciate you.’ “Well, Jen, you were right about that. On the other hand, nobody in New York ever threw me off a dirigible.”
The engine sputtered again as he entered another pocket of fog. “Shoot! I soloed once and this is what I do? Borrow an airplane and fly into a fog bank? And I was thinking, ‘Why take the instrument flight course? I’ll just never fly at night, or in fog!’ Well, so much for that thought, Dummy Dan.” Once again the engine sputtered.
The door from the gondola opened and Colonel Aziz strutted in and faced the passengers who sat on the floor. “Up!” Shouted Hadi as he pointed his gun at them, “Up, right away.” The passengers helped each other up and faced the man who was obviously in charge of this hijack.
“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I am Colonel Abdul Aziz of the elite Royal Guard Commando Unit of the glorious Republic of Irajh. Your government and the Israeli government have been informed that we have taken this ship, and that, unless the Israelis release one hundred Irajhian freedom fighters from their prisons within forty hours, we are going to take this ship out to deep sea and destroy it with explosives.”
The passengers gasped.
The colonel shook his head in a slow reassuring manner as he continued. “Fortunately for you, we do not believe that the Americans and their puppets, the Israelis, will let you all die. Rather, I fully expect that the Israelis will release our political prisoners at the American government's insistence. Once our demands are met, you will all be returned safely to Florida. Until then, follow our orders to the letter, or you will be promptly shot dead.” He nodded to his men, who began herding the passengers toward a hallway where the rooms are located. Hadi came over to Aziz who gave him more orders. “Keep the Flight Crew separate. Stuff the rest of them into eight or nine rooms and rotate the guards.”
Dan squinted as he came out of a fog bank and the sun unexpectedly struck his eyes. At the same time, the engine sputtered and missed again. Dan’s face is almost against the windshield as he tried to find the airship.
He wiped the greasy plexiglas with is hand as he muttered, “My second solo flight, and probably my last... Jenn, I hope you’re hanging in there, kid. Damn, why didn’t I listen to her and take up fishing.”
Suddenly he spotted a large cloud that didn’t dissipate below him. He leaned over to look out the passenger’s window hoping it was cleaner. “Damn! There she is! Thank you Lord! Now, I gotta get down next to the gondola, and hope the crew sees me and understands when I to try to tell them about a kook aboard the ship.”
He had to slow his plane down to match the airship’s speed of seventy miles-an-hour. As he pulled back on the throttle the engine stopped. The silence was unnerving as Dan tried to hit the starter, fly and watch the airship all at the same time. This time the engine didn’t start again. “Keep the airspeed up, Dan, don’t let her stall. Holy cow, I can't believe what I'm about to do.”
Dan flew over the topside as though he was going to land on top of her. He knew enough about the slipstream that followed a large aircraft, to know that if he did try to land on her, he’d be blown off. And without an engine she’d fly like a rock, he thought, as he got closer.
At what he thought was the last second; Dan opened the left door and rolled the little plane to the right as he rolled out the door. The aircraft bounced once off the ship’s side and fell to the ocean well to the rear, out of sight of the gondola crewmen. Dan misjudged the height and fell about eight feet and landed on top of the airship with a thud on his back. The airstream that was flowing around the sleek airship was pushing him back tow
ards the tail assembly as he turned onto his belly and grabbed at a navigation light dome. He broke a fingernail as it slipped past him. His foot hit another as he slid along the top of the fast flying ship. He grabbed at another dome and it broke cutting his hand. “Damn!” he shouted. Suddenly his leather jacket caught on a hatch cover. He grabbed hold of it right away and recognized it as hatch Number Five, “Just where all this crap started.”
The wind was trying to rip him off the top as he turned the lock and opened it. The hatch was designed so workmen could enter and leave through them during inspections. He stepped in out of the roaring wind and pulled it closed and locked it.
An indicator light popped on for the open hatch but blinked off before the overworked Karim, the one man now in the gondola, noticed it.
Dan took a second to rest after locking the hatch behind him. He continued his habit of talking to himself, “What a day this turned out to be, Danny Boy.” He patted his jacket pocket, “Damn, I lost the kids sunglasses.” He shook his head. “Somebody’s got to pay for this.” He started to climb down the ladder when he stopped and opened the tool chest next to the hatch. He looked at the tools then took a wrench, gripped it like a weapon, and climbed down the ladder to the center walkway. He looked around, “Got to keep it down to a low roar Danny Boy,” he mumbled, “don’t know where that maniac is hiding.” He looked around trying to decide which way to go. He looked aft and thought, The aft Auxiliary Control Room. Maybe some of the guys are playing cards. Besides I can use the intercom. He headed to the rear along the center walkway looking around as he did so.
Sky Ship Page 6
