Hail Warning

by Brett Arquette

  Kara knew a lot about Marshall Hail and recognized the names of his deceased daughters who had lost their lives because of The Five.

  Hail was smiling as he pointed towards the island, but there was a sadness in his eyes. It was like he was pointing at something real, yet he couldn’t touch it. Kara didn’t know if it was healthy for Marshall to name the islands after his daughters. After all, how could you have fun on an island named after your little girl who died in a senseless tragedy? But Kara didn’t have kids, so maybe she was missing something.

  “Very nice islands, Marshall,” she told him. She waited a moment before asking, “Is there any particular reason why you bought two islands?”

  “Sure, I got a better deal than if I had just purchased one.”

  Kara gave him a look of exasperation and said, “No, I mean, why do you need any islands at all?”

  Hail looked at Kara, truly mystified, and said, “Who wouldn’t want an island, let alone want two of them within a mile of each other?”

  Kara understood she was getting nowhere with Hail, who was playing his typical word games, but she tried one last time.

  “Do you have any plans for your two new islands?”

  “Yeah, I have an idea, and I wanted your opinion.”

  “OK,” Kara said, waiting for Hail to elaborate.

  “Do you want to take a little ride over to the islands on the launch and check them out?”

  “That would be fun, but I really need to focus on tomorrow’s mission today. I need to think it all out. There are a lot of things that could go wrong, and I need to decide the best plan of action to make things go right.”

  “But you were just reading,” Hail said.

  Kara replied, “It’s my method of relaxing, and when I relax, things pop into my head that I hadn’t thought about before.”

  “Please?” Hail asked with a puppy dog expression on his face.

  Kara paused for a beat and then added, “Plus, I’m not really happy being with Kornev.” She pronounced being with like they were derogatory words.

  Hail looked serious and didn’t know how to respond, so he didn’t.

  “Doesn’t that bother you, Marshall? Me going to see Kornev, possibly having to stay with him?” The word stay was the nasty syllable this time.

  “You won’t have to stay with him,” Hail told her. “Just go along for the ride, and then when it’s over, you tell that scumbag you are freaked out and want to leave. Then catch the first plane out of Termez.”

  Kara gave a little uncomfortable laugh. “It doesn’t always work that way, Marshall. Trust me, I know. Guys like Kornev are accustomed to getting things their way. Once I go to him, then it will be up to Kornev when I leave.”

  “I won’t let that happen,” Hail told her.

  Kara laughed again. This time, it was the laugh someone elicited when they thought the other person was clueless. “And what are you going to do, Marshall? Walk in with your guns blazing and rescue me?”

  Hail didn’t think it was all that funny.

  In a serious tone, he said, “I could get you out.”

  “What happens if I don’t want to get out? You need to remember that this is part of my job. Staying close to scumbags like Kornev yields a lot more intelligence than observing him from a distance.”

  Hail didn’t have an answer for that, but it was apparent to Kara that Hail had developed a soft spot for her in his calloused heart, and that made her feel warm inside.

  “It’s what I signed up for,” Kara added softly.

  “But I don’t want you doing—doing—” Hail let his words trail off.

  “Believe me. It’s not much fun for me either, but it is what it is. And to tell you the truth, I’m a little nervous about it. Aren’t you?”

  “Not really,” Hail said. “My engineers have my back, and you will be there. You’re tough, right?”

  “Yeah, right,” Kara said sarcastically. “All the bad guys tremble with fear when I walk into a room.”

  Hail laughed. “Well, they shake with something. But I don’t think it’s fear.”

  “Oh, aren’t you sweet,” Kara said, reaching over to cup Hail’s chin. She then gave his face a little squeeze. Kara considered giving him a little kiss, something they had done in the past, but they had decided to take things slow. And to Kara, this didn’t seem like the right time for intimacy. Instead, she made Hail happy by telling him that his islands were beautiful.

  Hail said, “Let’s go see an island. I want to show you something and get your opinion. We won’t be long, I promise. I’ve already had a picnic lunch prepared for us, but I’ve got a jujitsu lesson later today. Best to eat now before Nolan tries to squeeze my lunch out of me.”

  Kara laughed and said, “OK. OK.”

  “Great,” Hail said. “Follow me.”

  Hail began walking toward the stairwell, and Kara fell in behind him. They went down a dozen flights before ending up at a sea-level door on the Hail Nucleus, that had already been opened. Sitting in the water, next to the side of the ship, was a small boat that was used to take crew members back-and-forth between land and their cargo ship. One of Hail’s crew members assisted Hail and Kara into the small boat.

  HAIL ISLANDS

  Hail sat down in front of the steering wheel and fired up the outboard engine. The crew member then cast off the line that had been tethered to the ship. Kara found a chair next to Hail, and the boat pulled away from the Hail Nucleus. He pointed the launch toward the island on his right. Five minutes later, Hail found a small channel of water that formed a natural lagoon, and he guided the small boat into the calm water.

  “This reminds me of the lagoon in Gilligan’s Island,” he commented.

  “What’s Gilligan’s Island?” Kara asked.

  “Never mind,” Hail replied, realizing there was no reason Kara would have seen the TV show he had watched reruns of while he was a child.

  Hail beached the boat on a thin strip of sugary white sand and killed the engine.

  He stood and jumped off at the bow of the boat. Hail leaned over and offered Kara his hand which she accepted before jumping off the boat.

  For a moment, the two just stood there in the sun, drinking in their surroundings.

  “This is really beautiful,” Kara commented. “It’s like a little piece of paradise.”

  Hail said nothing, but the smile on his face conveyed he shared the same opinion.

  Then on a small trail leading into the jungle, a man appeared holding a leather strap dangling behind him. Two small horses followed the man onto the beach.

  Kara smiled and asked, “What’s this?”

  Hail said, “I bought these islands more than a month ago. Since there is no infrastructure of any type on these islands, my staff gets around on horses. They don’t require any gas or electricity, and this breed of horse is acclimated to eating indigenous vegetation on the islands in this hemisphere.

  Kara walked over to the nearest horse and pet its long nose. “They are so cute,” she said.

  Hail took the reins out of the hands of his crew member and handed them to Kara.

  “Then that one is yours,” he told her, referring to the horse she was petting.

  Kara laughed, and said, “You have got to be kidding. This is the closest I’ve ever been to a horse, and I certainly don’t know how to ride one.”

  “There is nothing to it,” Hail told her, still offering her the reins. “You just get on, and your horse will follow mine. This is the most docile breed of horse. You’ll see.”

  Reluctantly, Kara took the reins from Hail. Hail then gave her a foot up into the saddle of the small brown horse.

  He then climbed upon the back of his own white horse and asked the man, “Jack, can you please tie up the boat? We’ll be back in about an hour.”

  “No problem, Marshall.”

  Hail tugged the reins to the left, and his horse shifted in that direction and began walking back toward the jungle trail. Without being prompte
d, her horse followed his horse.

  “This is so cool,” Kara called out.

  “I told you so,” Hail responded.

  “You love saying, “I told you so,” don’t you?”

  “I have to admit; it is one of my favorite phrases.”

  After ten minutes of following the jungle trail, the canopy opened to a clearing. Kara heard a waterfall and tried to locate it through the area that was studded with massive banyan trees. Kara looked at the tangle of trees. She did her best to determine where one tree stopped and another began. It was an impossible task, because banyan trees dropped vines down. Those eventually became thick new trunks.

  Hail brought his horse to a stop and pointed at the tree, or trees, and said, “That’s where the treehouse will be.”

  Kara smiled and said, “OK, I’ll play along. What treehouse?”

  “The treehouse my committee crew will build.”

  Kara hesitated for a moment, and she asked, “You are talking about all the young adults on your ships?”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “And why would they be doing that?”

  Hail smiled and said, “Because every couple of months, every one of my young crew members will be living on this island.”

  “And why is that going to happen?” Kara asked.

  Hail looked serious and said, “Because I’ve come to the realization that they can’t be cooped up on my ships their entire young lives. They need to get out to build stuff, grow stuff and take care of animals. They need to be in touch with

  nature, and I can’t provide them that on my ships. It’s not practical, but this is practical,” Hail said, gesturing toward the beauty surrounding them.

  “I want them to be part of building a massive treehouse in the banyan trees. I want them to swim in the lagoon, play in the waterfall and know what it’s like to get a sunburn.”

  Kara said nothing. She was thinking about her own childhood. Her parents had taken her on trips and on a few cruises to idyllic islands, but she had never really lived the life Hail wanted for “his kids.” She had been pampered; she couldn’t recall sleeping on a bed that cost less than a small home in this part of the world. So, it was hard for her to understand the lifestyle that Hail was describing.

  Hail continued, “I want them to grow their own food. I want them to hunt and fish and cook and clean and have campfires at night and sing silly campfire songs and play and just be—well, just be kids. No computers. No electricity, unless they want to build a generator that is harnessed to the waterfall.”

  Kara resurfaced from her own childhood memories and told Hail, “I think that would be wonderful. I think this place is amazing.”

  “I also want to build a zoo, so the kids learn about all sorts of different animals. I need something to keep them busy, and I don’t know of anything more rewarding and educational then a zoo.”

  “Sounds expensive,” Kara said, “and maybe a little dangerous.”

  Hail made a face and shook his head, “It’s not like I plan to have lions, tigers and bears. Just some mellow animals the kids can feed, nurture and watch them have babies.”

  “Ah, the teaching of the birds and the bees using the real thing—very crafty,” Kara said.

  “No, that’s what the Internet is for,” Hail joked, but Kara suspected that was the way most kids learned about sex these days.

  “Speaking of the birds and the bees, I also want them to learn beekeeping and how to make their own honey. If they produce sweets, then they can eat the sweets they produce.”

  Hail got off his horse and tied it to a palm tree in the shade. He then walked over and grabbed Kara by her waist and helped her slide off her pony.

  “It’s hot,” Hail said. “Wanna go skinny dipping in the waterfall?”

  Kara was a little shocked, but she smiled and said, “Marshall Hail, you are a naughty dirty devil. But I thought you would never ask.”

  TERMEZ, UZBEKISTAN

  T he Air Cress Antonov An-26 cargo plane taxied in from the runway and came to a stop in front of Victor Kornev. It was a medium-sized cargo plane, large enough to lift tons of cargo. It was quite old, as far as planes go, but the Russian aircraft was still dependable. Of the 1043 An-26s manufactured, Kornev had snatched up ten of the relics that had made their debut in the Paris Air Show in 1969. This stop in Termez was a scheduled weekly delivery that dropped off everything from food, mail, bicycles, tools and about anything. If an item had been ordered from anywhere else in the world, one of Victor Kornev’s planes probably delivered it to these small Uzbekistan cities. Once the goods bound for Termez were offloaded, the Antonov would be reloaded with cargo that was outgoing, and the plane would continue to the Uzbekistan cities of Samarkand, Novoi, Uchduduk, and finally, Nukus. Kornev’s company did not make a great deal of money running this route, purposely undercutting the only other airline making landings in Uzbekistan. But these regular cargo drops allowed him to conceal anything he wanted to smuggle in and out of the country. Since he had direct access to his planes, it was easy for him to hide contraband amongst the other goods.

  Kornev walked over to the plane and waited patiently for the rear cargo door to lower to the ground. The pilot and loadmaster were in position, determining what was slated to be offloaded. They paid little attention to Kornev as he walked up the ramp and began browsing through the cargo. It didn’t take him long to find the two large black cases, very similar to cases that held large telescopes, securely attached to the wall of the aircraft. Kornev released the straps and grabbed each case by their metal handles. Without a word to his employees, he made his way down the ramp, heading towards his Hummer parked twenty meters away.

  Kornev clicked a button on his fob, and the back hatch popped open. The Russian placed the cases in the back and pressed the button again to close the hatch. He drove toward the airport’s main gate.

  From the roof of the Air Cress building, two drones sat patiently perched on three-inch tripod legs. Their solar arrays were fully extended to absorb sunlight to recharge their batteries. Today, both drones were unarmed and were in surveillance mode. Tomorrow, each drone would have attached to it a mini-gun. Both aircraft were relatively flat to avoid attracting attention. If someone were to see them sitting atop the building, they would assume they were some new type of TV satellite dish.

  As Kornev left the airport, before fully retracting its solar panels, one of the drones was already airborne.

  TWO YEARS AGO

  CARIBBEAN SEA—ON THE JETTY NEAR CARACAS, VENEZUELA

  S omeone was poking him with some type of a stick. But when Afua opened his eyes, he saw it was a long aluminum pole. There was a sour taste in his mouth, and he was desperately thirsty. The Nigerian tried to swallow but discovered he could not. His tongue felt like a dry piece of cow liver had been stuffed sideways into his mouth. His vision was blurry, and the sun was shining directly down on him; both made it difficult to see who was poking him with the pole.

  In Spanish, a voice yelled at him to wake up.

  There was a sucking sound, as Afua lifted his sweaty head from the vinyl couch in the back of the boat. His mind was so foggy he couldn’t even remember his location.

  The pole poked him in his ribcage, and the voice yelled at him again. He wanted to turn over and go back to sleep, but he was so damn thirsty. If it weren’t for his thirst, and the continual pokes from the pole, he was certain he would have drifted back to sleep.

  Now there were several voices yelling at him in Spanish.

  He slowly sat up and opened his eyes.

  If Afua had his wits about him, the irony would not be lost on him because the Coast Guard officer who instructed him to leave the jetty across from the airport was the same guy currently poking him with the pole.

  Seeing that Afua was awake, the man retracted the pole and handed it to another crew member to stow.

  Now that they had Afua’s attention, the officer began speaking in English, apparently recalling the Nigerian
didn’t understand Spanish.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Afua didn’t answer. Instead, he looked around for his fishing pole. Spotting it still stuck into the pole holder, he stood to retrieve it. The pain from the gash on his duct-taped leg sent agonizing bolts of pain to his head, but Afua tried to act stoically. He was dizzy so he quickly sat down, and he pulled his pole from the holder. He made sure that the men on the Coast Guard boat watched him reel in the line. To his surprise, when he pulled the lure from the water, a fish was attached

  to it. Afua held up the fish so the Coast Guard officers could see. He didn’t feel he had to offer a verbal explanation of what he was doing there. As the fish was lifted over the edge of his boat onto the floor, Afua ignored the Coast Guard boat, attempting to free the fish from the hook. While doing this, he glanced down at his duct-taped leg. No blood was visible - that was good when they pulled him over. He needed to appear like a typical guy doing some fishing with a duct-taped leg. Not too crazy.

  The men on the Coast Guard boat yelled more stuff at him in Spanish. Afua simply shook his head that he didn’t understand. Frustrated, the men on the Coast Guard vessel held an animated conversation among themselves before hauling in their anchor and pulling away from his boat. Afua ignored them, focusing his attention on getting the fish from his hook. He continued the charade until the Coast Guard’s vessel was long gone. He dropped the fish, line and the pole onto the floor of his boat. Then he struggled to get himself into the driver’s seat. There was a bottle of water in the side compartment which he withdrew, drinking the entire bottle in one long refreshing gulp. He had a horrible headache, and his ankle felt like it was on fire. Everything else was going OK. If he could make it to the Nigerian Princess without passing out and dying from blood loss, he should be home free.

  Afua realized his anchor was still in the water. He cursed under his breath in Ibibio. Using his good leg, he stood to hop and shuffle to the back of the boat and pulled in the anchor which was tossed unceremoniously to the floor of his boat. It landed with a metallic thud next to the fish and pole. Afua painfully made his way back to the driver’s seat. Now, untethered by the anchor, the boat began banging against the rocks in front of him. Afua cranked the outboard engine and checked his surroundings. He pulled back on the throttle and put the engine in reverse. After backing away from the rocks, he shoved the throttle forward and aimed his boat toward open water. Afua got his bearings and began the two-mile trip out to the Nigerian Princess. He checked his heading on the boat’s compass and made a concerned face. The yacht should be right in front of him, but it wasn’t there. There was nothing but open water. Afua continued toward the coordinates where he had left the Nigerian Princess. Looking in both directions, he attempted to determine the yacht’s location. There were two yachts in the area, both under power. However, the vessels’ outlines on the horizon did not match up to the Nigerian Princess. Afua saw nothing familiar. For that matter, he saw very few vessels of any type anchored off shore of Caracas. Afua took out his phone and brought up the GPS app. It showed that he was nearing the location of where the Nigerian Princess had been anchored. He slowed the engine.