“Get some lead on that guy,” Hail commanded.
Foo Fighters’ pilot sent another stream of bullets into the Land Rover, crisscrossing the car with his sights, using the spray and pray tactic, trying to cause maximum damage.
“Is that Land Rover slowing down?” Hail asked.
“Yes, it is,” Captain Nichols confirmed. “The question is, why is it slowing down?”
Alex Knox reported, “I’m bringing Foreigner in for another pass.”
Hail saw a black man, who looked very much like Afua Diambu, exit the Land Rover. He began running toward the SUV, and Hail saw that he had a weapon in his right hand.
Hail told Wilson, “Get Foo Fighters in his face. Don’t kill that guy unless I give you the order.”
Captain Nichols told Hail, “Foo Fighters is almost out of power, Marshall.”
“Then have him land Foo Fighters next to the SUV,” Hail said sounding desperate. “All the drone requires is enough power to pull the trigger.”
The pilot maneuvered Foo Fighters in closer to the wreckage of the Suburban. But the man with the gun was already standing next to the SUV’s driver window with his gun pointed inside.
Wilson flew up behind the Diambu lookalike. The drone’s thin tripod legs had already been extended, and Wilson set it down quickly with Foo Fighter’s minigun pointed at the back of the man’s head.
The sole survivor of the Land Rovers was talking to someone inside the SUV at gunpoint. When he heard the noise behind him, he turned away from the vehicle toward the noise. The crews of both the Hail Proton and the Hail Nucleus saw a closeup of the man’s face being shot with Foo Fighter’s camera. The man’s expression was so infused with disbelief and awe that he looked like he might be watching an amazing circus act.
“Turn on the communications,” Hail told the pilot. “I want to talk to this guy before I kill him.”
Wilson reached for the communications icon which would allow Hail’s voice to be patched into the drone’s onboard speaker.
But as Wilson pressed the icon, his control set vanished from his screen. Wilson looked confused for a moment. He said grimly, “The drone is dead. It’s out of power and it did an auto shutdown.”
SNAKE ISLAND, NIGERIA
K ara was still groggy from the SUV’s barrel roll. Her head had been whipped around, and she felt mildly concussed. Even before she had fully come around, she saw Baako standing at her broken window. He was pointing a .45 caliber handgun in her face. He wasn’t smiling. He looked every bit as deadly as his recently departed twin brother.
“Why did you kill my brother?” he asked.
Kara heard the words, but they were distant and murky like he was talking to her while she was deep underwater.
She answered him honestly without considering Baako may not be prepared to hear the truth.
“You said that your brother was a Christian, but he was a bad Christian,” she heard herself say. “He was a bad person,” Kara said groggily.
Baako’s finger tightened on the trigger.
Kara thought he looked prepared to put a hole through her forehead. But deep down, she sensed Baako knew she was right. He had known all along that his brother was damned. He fully understood his twin brother was a bad person. Therefore, Kara telling him what he already knew didn’t necessarily enrage him. Kara was counting on Baako’s sense of morality.
“He was going to die one way or another,” she told Baako calmly, now looking past the barrel pointed in her face and into his bloodshot eyes. She noticed that the left side of his face had been burned. Blood was seeping from a wound on his shoulder.
Behind Baako, she saw one of Hail’s drones approaching. Its thin legs were poking out from under the machine. It was flying at a slow and controlled hover. Baako must have heard the sound. He turned and looked behind him. Seeing the aircraft, he swung the pistol around and pointed it at the new threat. Baako thought the machine looked like a small flying saucer with propellers. If it had been on its side, it would have resembled stick rings he and his siblings had played with so long ago. They would find any old ring, and using a stick, they would hit it to make it roll along the ground. The winner was the one who could keep their ring rolling the furthest. The difference between those rings and the ring that was flying sideways toward him was immediately evident. The flying ring had a large gun with a short barrel hanging beneath it. It landed next to him on its thin legs. The flying saucer’s propellers spun down. Its thin legs reminded Baako of some water birds that could stand on their thin legs and sleep in the middle of a pond.
Baako considered shooting the machine for a moment, but the odd contraption did the strangest thing. All three of its long legs began to go up inside its body. As the legs withdrew, the machine sunk lower and lower toward the ground. Once its legs were completely gone, the gun hit the runway with a clank, and the machine tilted onto its side and died. Satisfied the aircraft was no longer a threat, Baako turned back towards the SUV, and he pointed his gun at Kara.
“Now, where were we?” he asked. His face was expressionless.
Kara looked at Baako and wondered how much longer she had to live. Motion caught her eye, and she looked past Baako up into the sky behind him. Two of Hail’s drones were closing in on her position.
Without looking down, she reached over and pressed the button to unlock her door. She had no way to know if it had become jammed in the wreck. Kara heard the mechanism click and hoped her door had indeed unlocked. All she had to do was wait for a distraction. Considering how fast Hail’s drones were closing in on her SUV, she knew that whatever happened would take place in the next ten seconds.
*-*-*
Hail looked on helplessly through the eyes of Seagulls as Foo Fighters died in front of Baako. “I can’t believe this,” Hail moaned. He spoke into the room’s speakers to Alex Knox, who was flying Foreigner.
“What’s your assessment, Knox?”
“Not good,” was the young man’s response. “The target is standing right in front of the driver’s door of the SUV. If I go with guns blazing, I will not only kill Diambu, or whoever the hell he is, but I will also probably kill Kara. If I use the missiles, nothing within fifty yards of the impact zone will make it out alive.”
Hail felt as helpless as he ever had. He had a large drone on-site, but it didn’t have the finesse to get the job done.
On the video screen, he saw the jihadi point his gun at Kara again.
Just as he was giving up hope, Sarah Starling, who was flying Seagulls said, “I’m going in.”
“In what?” Captain Nichols shot back.
“Just going in,” Starling said.
The pilot pulled back on her right joystick which swept Seagulls’ wings back in against its body. It was a position as close to a dive as the drone could manage. The airspeed indicator on the pilot’s screen began to climb. In three seconds, the birdlike drone accelerated from 140 to 180 knots.
The video was crisp and clean, and the crew watched as the drone closed the distance on the SUV. At one point, the bird was going so fast it was falling from the sky. Starling used the tips of its wings to keep the drone on course.
At almost 185 knots, the hard beak of Seagulls slammed into the back of Baako’s head.
*-*-*
Kara watched Hail’s big drone fly over the top of her position. She didn’t immediately understand why the drone hadn’t unloaded, and then realized that anything it shot would have probably killed her as well. In the periphery of her vision, she saw Seagulls retract it wings and begin to dive toward her vehicle.
Even though Baako was telling her, “I won’t kill you because I am not like my brother,” Kara didn’t get a warm and fuzzy feeling being on the business end of the gun. Seagulls was now moving fast, coming in hot, as they would say in the profession.
She smiled pleasantly at Baako, making him feel as if she didn’t pose a threat. Just as Seagulls smacked into the back of Baako’s head, Kara pulled on the door handle and slamm
ed her shoulder into the door, banging it open. Kara had timed it perfectly. Just as Baako’s head had been jerked forward by the impact of the drone, the frame of the SUV’s heavy door caught Baako in the middle of his forehead. His head made the sound of a cantaloupe dropped on a sidewalk. His eyes rolled back into his skull, and he slumped to the ground. He landed next to Seagulls which was now a dead drone who had served its purpose.
*-*-*
“That was frickin’ awesome,” Hail laughed, and he started clapping his hands.
The rest of the crew cheered, clapped and yelled. A few of the younger pilots did little happy dances. Hail leaned his head back, took in deep breaths, and he said a silent prayer of thanks to any powerful entity who might be listening.
*_*_*
Back on the ground, Kara jumped out of the SUV and ran over to the Land Rover. The car was still idling in the middle of the runway. She walked around to the passenger side of the vehicle, opened the door, and then popped open the glovebox. She was hoping to find some duct tape, or wire, or anything that could be used to tie up Baako before he regained consciousness. Instead, she found something much better. Inside the glove box was a bag of nylon handcuffs. All sorts of sizes to fit all sorts of criminals. She pulled out what she thought was a large pair that would fit Baako and stuffed the rest of the bag into her front pocket. She ran back to the SUV and was pleased to see that Afua’s brother hadn’t moved an inch.
Leaning down, Kara used nylon handcuffs to secure his hands, making sure they were tight, but wouldn’t cut off his circulation.
Kara heard a murmur coming from somewhere. At first, she thought the sounds were coming from Baako, but then she saw Kornev’s face appear where the Suburban’s passenger window had once been.
“Are we still alive?” he asked.
“I am, but you look like hell,” Kara told him.
Kornev had a badly swollen black eye, a bloody nose and Kara guessed he had suffered many other injuries. Kornev had been bounced around in the back of the SUV like a wet shoe in a dryer.
Kornev stuck his head out the SUV’s window and threw up.
“That’s just beautiful,” Kara said.
She searched through Baako’s pockets and found his cellphone. From memory, she dialed Marshall Hail’s cellphone’s number.
*-*-*
Hail excused himself from the celebration in the mission center of the Hail Proton. He stepped through the bulkhead door opening and closed the thick door behind him. In the hallway, he heard nothing but the muted drone of the ship’s engines and his own phone ringing.
Hail placed the phone to his ear and said, “Hi, Kara. How are you?”
“I’m doing pretty well, Marshall. Fortunately, I had my seat belt on and the SUV was built like a tank.”
“You didn’t get shot or anything, did you?”
“I got a lot of anything, but I didn’t get shot. To tell you the truth, I thought I was a goner until you had Seagulls headbutt Baako.”
“Who’s Baako?” Hail asked.
“Afua Diambu’s twin brother,” Kara said. She waited for a response.
“Whoa,” Hail said. “You have to be kidding me? We just thought he was some double that Diambu had pulled off the street.”
“Nope, and you could imagine how shocked I was when I walked into Diambu’s compound and saw his twin brother sitting there on the couch.”
Kara looked down to her right and noticed that Baako was beginning to come around.
She told Hail, “Baako is starting to wake up.”
Hail said, “I had no idea that Seagulls could do that much damage.”
Kara told Hail, “Well, I kind of helped a little by slamming the door into Baako’s face after the drone hit the back of his head.”
“Good work,” Hail complimented her. “You give good door.”
“It’s what I do. I was trained in all sorts of door war craft when I went through CIA spy camp.”
“Yeah, right,” Hail laughed.
Kara laughed, and then she laughed some more, but not at her stupid joke. She laughed at coming so close to dying and then narrowly thwarting the dark figure toting the sharp scythe. Death had come for many people today, but she had not been on its list.
Baako had now regained enough of his faculties to realize he was in handcuffs. He made a feeble attempt to test the strength of his bindings. After a few vexing seconds, he simply dropped his hands back into his lap and leaned up against one of the blown-out SUV tires.
“My plane is waiting for you at the airport,” Hail told her. “I can have them fly it over and land it on the runway in front of you.”
Kornev’s head was laying bent back at a 45-degree angle, resting on the headrest of the seat. He was staring directly up into the headliner of the SUV to stop the stream of blood dripping from his nose. Kornev found a napkin and had torn parts from it to make corks for each nostril.
Kara told Hail, “No, that won’t be necessary. I have some loose ends I need to tie up here. I will catch a ride back to Kornev’s place on his crappy plane.”
“Really?” Hail asked, surprised by her response. “I mean, it still has to be hot there. That couldn’t have been all the guards Diambu had at his compound.”
“I’m not worried about that. I have Baako, and I have his gun. Diambu’s soldiers don’t have anyone to fight for right now. There is a power vacuum that needs to be filled, and I intend to make sure it gets filled by the right person.”
Kara heard Hail sigh over the phone. She had heard that same sound from him only a few other times. Most of those times he had been lost in the memory of his family. Then he had resurfaced back to the real world with a sorrowful sigh…the same one he had just used with her.
Across the runway, Kara saw two more Land Rovers appear on the tarmac. They turned and began driving toward her.
Hail asked, “Before you leave, will you do us a favor and package up the drones for transport? We are going to land Foreigner on the runway for the pick-up.”
“Sure, no problem,” Kara said.
There was a long silence on the phone. Kara felt that Marshall wanted to say something special to her, but he didn’t know what to say. Nothing too committal because it was something he couldn’t take back. If it was too over the top, it might be considered a faux pas that might possibly prevent them from moving forward. Kara sensed that Marshall felt he was on a tightrope, attempting not to lose his balance.
When the silence had reached the point of being too awkward, Kara let Hail off the hook and said, “Listen, Marshall. I’ve got to go. I want to thank you for everything you have done for me.”
There was a moment of silence before Hail said, “It sounds like you’re saying goodbye.”
“No, not at all,” Kara lied. “If it wasn’t for you and your team, I wouldn’t be breathing right now. I just wanted to say thanks.”
After another beat, Hail said softly, “You’re welcome.”
Kara watched as the vehicles drew closer, and just when she was getting ready to disconnect the call, she heard Marshall say, “I miss you.”
Hail’s words induced a prick in her heart. Cupid was not shooting arrows. Instead, it was shooting needles of emotion she had to compartmentalize to consider later.
*-*-*
Kara walked over to Baako and placed the tip of the Sig Sauer on his swollen temple.
“Tell them to back off,” Kara told Baako, and she pulled back the hammer of the pistol with her thumb.
The Land Rovers came to a quick stop in front of the demolished SUV, and a dozen guns were brought up and trained on Kara.
“Tell them,” Kara insisted.
Baako looked up and feebly told the men, “It is OK. Go back to the other end of the runway. I will call for you when I need you.”
Kara didn’t know if the men would follow Baako’s commands because Baako was not Afua. But did these men know that? She didn’t have a clue if Afua’s men could tell the brothers apart. If it hadn’t been for B
aako’s cheery disposition and lack of the wound that had been photographed on Afua’s leg, she almost didn’t tell them apart. Still, she was encouraged when the soldiers lowered their weapons. The men in the Land Rovers returned to their seats. Their vehicles made a wide looping turn and began driving back toward the other end of the runway. Kara walked over to the Land Rover that Baako had been driving and noticed a few bottles of water scattered on the floor of the vehicle. Keeping the gun in her right hand, she used her left hand to thread her fingers under the lips of the two water bottles. She brought them back to the backseat of the SUV where Kornev was convalescing. Kara tossed the bottle to him, hitting the Russian smack in the head and he groaned. She handed the other bottle to Baako, who was still sitting on the ground next to the Suburban.
“We need to talk,” she said, plopping down on the ground in front of him, sitting Indian-style.
Baako said nothing. He looked at the bottle between his knees, and he used his good arm to twist off the top. He took a big sip and looked at Kara with a blank defeated expression.
“This morning you told me Afua is a Christian. You told me that your entire family is Christian. I do believe you.”
She watched Baako for a reaction. Nothing.
Kara continued, “You hinted Afua would release all the kidnapped girls that the Boko Haram has held for more than a decade.”
Baako took another pull off the water bottle but said nothing.
“You can still make that happen,” Kara told him.
Baako finally said, “I don’t have any control over these men. They followed my brother.”
Kara responded, “They followed your identical twin brother. It’s my guess that very few of these men can tell you two apart. If it wasn’t for your continual smiles and the absence of a scar on your leg, I wouldn’t have known the difference.”
Hail Warning Page 40
