“Yes, she is,” the soldier answered.
“And is she okay?”
“I’m told that she’s fine.”
“Thank goodness,” John said.
“You’ll be able to see her soon.”
The pilot then landed the Blackhawk.
“So, it’s over then?” John asked.
“What is?”
“Everything. The deal, the virus… it’s all now under your control, and I hope your government uses it wisely for the prevention of war instead of as a biological weapon.”
“It’s not over yet. Lieutenant Commander Walker will explain it to you in more detail. He’s waiting for you on board, and will explain everything.”
The soldier then escorted John to the Magdalena.
A Navy SEAL with fire-red hair and a confident smile shook his hand when he came aboard.
“John Wolfgang?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“My name is Ryan Walker,” he said, shaking John’s hand. “I’m in charge of this entire operation, and I’m here to tell you we have a problem.”
“We had a deal, Mr. Walker. It was quite clear. I get you the virus and the terrorist, and you get me my life back. Am I to understand that the United States government does not keep its promises?” John asked.
“We’re more than happy to keep up our end of the bargain.”
“Then, I want my life back.”
“But the virus has been destroyed,” Ryan told him.
The new information made John stop suddenly.
“After all these years, the countless lives that the search for the virus has taken, without ever even infecting any one of them, and you’re now telling me that it had been destroyed back in 1939?” John asked, incredulously.
“No, you can blame Sam Reilly for that,” Walker said.
“Sam Reilly destroyed it?”
“Yes.”
John laughed out loud at the stupidity of it all.
“Well, at least he finally did something right.”
“I won’t lie to you, Mr. Wolfgang. My superiors are pretty upset about the loss of the virus. They have agreed to uphold the original deal if you help us capture the terrorist, Abdulla Azzama,” Walker told him.
“And just how do you expect me to do that?” John asked. “You already know exactly where he lives. Why don’t you just send in an unmanned drone to take him out?”
Ryan Walker laughed, and then said, “It’s not as simple as you would imagine. Abdulla Azzama moves around a lot. Using an unmanned drone, we’d never be quite certain that we got the right man.”
“So, tell me, exactly what do you want me to do?”
Walker then told him the entire plan, and then asked, “Will you do it?”
*
Sam Reilly watched as the older man came through the open-air gangway into the gondola. He recognized the man as John Wolfgang, but noted that his blonde hair was now more white than blonde in color.
Aliana ran towards her father and threw her arms around him.
“Dad!”
“Aliana!” John held her tightly to him. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. Tell me, is it true?” she asked, with tears in her eyes.
John didn’t say anything at first. He looked almost too ashamed to speak, but he finally said, “You don’t understand. There was nothing I could do about it. They threatened your safety. You must believe me, it was never about the money, I did it all for you, I promise. I’m so sorry.”
She kissed him and said, “I believe you Dad,” pausing briefly and then said, “Dad, I want you to meet a friend of mine. His name is Sam Reilly.”
Sam shook his hand and said, “It’s nice to meet you, sir. Aliana has told me of many of your extraordinary accomplishments.”
“Thank you, and it’s good to meet you, too.” John smiled, but his intensely intelligent blue eyes refused to meet Sam's, and he quickly added, “I’ve also heard about a few of your accomplishments over the years, as well. Your father, of course, is a great man.”
“That he is.” Sam studied the man more closely, and couldn’t help but recall the face of the man who tried to kill him while he was onboard Second Chance.
There was not a doubt in his mind.
Aliana’s father tried to kill me.
“I’m sorry to interrupt you all here,” Ryan said, “but we’re going to have to get a move on if we’re to reach the rendezvous point within four days. Time is everything here – we’re going to get one chance only at this.”
“Yes, of course,” John agreed.
Sam spent the next few hours explaining all he could to help the man who had tried to kill him. In the end he said: “That’s it. You’ll find it’s pretty simple. You’ll get the handle of it by the time you get there.”
John shook his hand.
This time, his eyes met Sam's.
“Thank you. I know how difficult this must have been for you.” It was as much of an admission of guilt, as John would make. “If I don’t make it, please look after my little girl. There are few men out there who I believe could be worthy of her affection. I believe you just might be one of them.”
“I will, Mr. Wolfgang. You have my word,” Sam said, and his word was just about as solid as you get. “Good luck. I mean it – I hope you nail this bastard.”
Just before he and Aliana got off the Magdalena Sam watched as Aliana hugged her father and told him that she forgave him, for everything.
Chapter Twenty Nine
Middle East, October 22nd
John Wolfgang had acquired some degree of confidence with the controls of the Magdalena by the time he reached his destination. His view of the desert oasis seemed so different from the air than it had a month earlier, now that he was at the controls.
That seemed like such a long time ago.
He lined up the airship with the runway. And it struck him as strange that the airship should even require a runway to land. Sam had explained the basic aeronautics of the airship before leaving Italy. In general, it was simple enough that even a child could keep it in the air, but it required some serious thinking to ensure that it landed safely without self-destructing.
John started to sweat as he began to make his descent.
It was the Middle East after all, and he couldn't deny he’d been sweltering in the heat for the past two days. But somehow, it seemed he was sweating even more now. He wasn’t sure what he was more frightened of, landing the Magdalena, or meeting Abdulla in person, under the terrorist's terms. The man was powerful and used to getting his way in life. It would be a rare day indeed when someone bested him.
John just hoped today would be that day.
He followed the instructions, and slowly guided the airship to the ground.
Next to him stood a man wearing civilian clothes. The man was clean-shaven, and had short red hair. He helped manage the buoyancy system on board.
The man looked at him confidently, and said, “You can do this, Mr. Wolfgang.”
“I’m not worried about landing,” Wolfgang told him, “I’ll do my part. You just make sure that you do yours.”
“It’s a deal,” Lieutenant Commander Ryan Walker replied.
John gripped the mahogany steering wheel so hard that the whites of his knuckles became clearly visible.
They had dropped to an altitude of two hundred feet.
He would soon be on the ground, and then it would finally all be over – one way or the other. It was the not knowing that frightened him the most.
“How will you do it?” Wolfgang asked.
“It’s better that you don’t know until it’s already been done.”
“You mean – you’d rather I didn’t give you away?”
“Yes. Look, Mr. Wolfgang. We train for this every day. During the few minutes when the action takes place, we’re not conscious of what we’re doing. It’s only muscle memory we’ve built up over years of repetitive scenario training that guides us. We have no idea how you will
respond, but I guarantee my men will successfully complete this mission,” Walker said.
“I understand.”
“Good. Now, let’s land this relic and get this over and done with.”
*
John Wolfgang noted the three armored Bentleys parked along one side of the runway.
“That’ll be Abdulla there, I suppose,” he said.
“Let’s hope so,” Walker replied.
“It’s him. I’m sure he’ll come today. This is too important for him to ignore.”
“We’ve been closely following this man’s movements for more than ten years. He’s had a price tag of more than 10 million U.S. dollars on his head for most of that time. It takes a very cautious man to stay alive despite that kind of surveillance. His own men are extremely protective of him, with a religious fanaticism. I would be very surprised if he simply came in on his own.”
“What should I do if his men want me to leave with him?”
“Then I suggest you do so,” Walker said.
“Then what?”
“Then, you’ll have to convince him to return to the Magdalena. I don’t care how you do it, but it’s the only chance we have.”
“And if I can’t?” John asked.
“We both know the answer to that question, don’t we?”
John nodded his head, and said, “I suppose we do.”
“Okay, we’re now at fifty feet. I’ve slowed our rate of descent to ten feet per minute. I’ll count you in for the last ten feet. Brett is ready at the rear of the gondola with the anchor ropes. I’m sure Abdulla’s men will want to secure us to the ground as soon as possible.”
“Copy that.”
The Magdalena sank slowly toward the tarmac.
“Ten feet.”
“Five feet.”
Next to him, Ryan Walker gave three small bursts of flame to terminate their descent.
John flicked the directional switch, and the propellers swung into reverse.
The Magdalena slowed its forward and downward momentum until it rested just two feet off the ground, directly across from the armored Bentleys.
Several men ran up to the Magdalena, and took all four of the anchor ropes, tying two of them to the cars and the other two around large wooden stakes, which were rapidly being hammered into the sandy ground by two other men.
Then, between the twenty or more men, the Magdalena was pulled out of the sky until it was held firmly on the ground.
“Well, here goes…” John said, walking to the door of the pilot house.
“Good luck,” Walker said. “You’ll be fine.”
John opened the pilot house door and stepped out onto the open-air gangway. He held his hands up and apart to show that he wasn’t carrying a weapon.
He noted that there were now more than a hundred men on the ground surrounding the Magdalena.
All of them were armed with rifles.
Several men then quickly came to meet him, one of whom told him, “We would like to come on board and make certain that the ship is safe before our master enters.” The man spoke in broken English, but with a confidence that more than made up for it.
“Understood. Help yourself. I have two of my men on board, and they will show you around.”
“Very good, please tell them to come out here, too.”
“Okay,” John agreed. “Ryan, Brett. Come on out here so that they can see you.”
I really hope this isn’t the part where they machine gun us all to death.
John fervently hoped that Lieutenant Commander Walker was correct when he told him the virus was too valuable for them to risk hurting him.
After several minutes each of the men returned after searching the ship.
“My apologies, but it was a necessary task. As you know, my master has been threatened from time to time.”
“That’s okay. I understand,” John said. “Would you like to invite your master into the passenger gondola where we can discuss the final arrangements for the transfer of the virus?”
“Yes, of course. He will come with his guards.”
“Of course.”
The man then signaled someone near the car, and a confident Abdulla Ashama exited the vehicle and walked out to greet him.
Abdulla entered the Magdalena, escorted by five heavily armed men wearing balaclavas.
“My apologies, Mr. Wolfgang. These are members of my elite personal guard. I hope you do not take offense to them being present.”
“No, I understand,” John replied. “This is my co-pilot, Ryan and his assistant, Brett.”
The man nodded his acceptance, but otherwise took no notice of John’s two crewmen.
“How is your daughter, Aliana?” Abdulla asked.
“She is well. And your family, how are they?”
“Good,” Abdulla commented. “Last time we spoke of the other contents on board… please, humor me, what were they?”
John thought seriously about where this question was going. Abdulla had previously stated that he cared little about the artifacts aboard the Magdalena, and then said, “There was more than ten million dollars in gold bullion on board, a diamond which has yet to be appraised, but which must be worth several million dollars, and there was a multitude of other precious gems as well. Their value is entirely irrelevant when compared to the agreed-upon price for the virus and its vaccine. Like the A-bomb dropped on Hiroshima, this virus will alter the position of the world’s superpowers so greatly that they will have no choice but to cower and comply with your demands.”
Abdulla stopped suddenly.
“Please forgive me, but I am not the man you should be talking to,” Abdulla said.
Oh shit – they know!
John had no idea what his next move should be or how he could even warn the Navy SEALs who were there.
One of the armed men, standing behind the rich oil Sheik began to remove his balaclava and stepped forward.
“Alkmaar, you have served me well. You may now take your normal place.” After removing his balaclava, he revealed himself as the true Abdulla Ashama. “Now, I wish to talk to my friend Mr. Wolfgang,” he said.
The entire thing had been a ruse on their part to ensure the safety of Abdulla.
“I’m hurt that you didn’t trust me,” John said.
“I didn’t, but now I see that you are a man of your word,” the real Abdulla said, and then continued, “Mr. Wolfgang, I had my doubts that you would be able to locate it, but I never thought in a million years that you would show up with the Magdalena herself, right at my doorstep.”
“It gladdens me to see that I have pleased you, my friend,” John said obsequiously.
“So, it has survived all this time?”
“Yes.”
“May I see it?” Abdulla asked.
“Of course.”
John reached into the compartment beneath the seat and withdrew a metallic suitcase.
An electronic keypad was located at its base, and John tapped more than twenty keys in quick succession. A green light flashed, indicating that the correct sequence had been entered, and then the suitcase snapped open automatically.
In the middle of the suitcase lay three vials of an almost entirely clear substance.
“For a substance so powerful this appears to be rather small,” Abdulla said, making no attempt to hide his disappointment.
“They are small, but don’t forget that a nuclear bomb works by only minute, subatomic particles and yet still it has the ability to level entire cities.”
“Of course, of course,” Abdulla said, nodding his head. “And the vaccine?”
John didn’t reply immediately.
Instead, his hands reached below the same hidden space, below the seat, and withdrew a second metallic case. After repeating the same process as the first, he opened it for Abdulla to see.
This one housed a laptop computer and a satellite phone. He switched it on and the image of a bank in Zurich appeared on the monitor.
�
�I would like you to transfer the money into this account. Once I have confirmed that the final 10 billion dollars has been deposited, I will provide you with the antidote to the virus,” John said.
“You seem like a fair man to me. But how can I trust you to complete the transaction after I have transferred the entire amount to your bank?”
“Well,” John said, looking out of the large glass windows at the men who now surrounded the Magdalena, “I should think that if I fail to provide you with the antidote after I’ve received payment, you will kill me, probably after first torturing me. No, I think you can trust me to make good on our deal.”
Abdulla laughed again. It was a big hearty laugh from a man who was unaccustomed to men speaking to him so frankly.
Abdulla then picked up his own phone and began to speak rapidly into it in Arabic.
Afterwards, he looked back at John, and said, “Okay John, it will be done.”
“Very good.”
About three minutes later John watched as his computer registered the 10billion-dollar funds transfer. A quick phone call to his personal bank manager assured him that the money had been successfully deposited.
“Are you satisfied?” Abdulla asked.
“Yes, very.”
John opened a trapdoor located beneath his seat and extracted a third suitcase. Upon opening it, Abdulla could see that the suitcase held 100 hypodermic syringes of the vaccine, with the needles attached.
“As you can see,” John said, “I was more cautious with the vaccine than I was with the virus.”
“So, this is goodbye then,” Abdulla said. “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Wolfgang.”
Then, he stood up as he and his men turned to leave.
Abdulla clutched at his chest.
Shock and dismay could be seen, planted firmly in his eyes, as Abdulla came to the abhorrent realization that he had been betrayed.
Abdulla looked down at the hundred or more tranquilizer darts now piercing his body.
He never spoke, but his eyes told John that Abdulla wanted to kill him.
John, as well as everyone else in the room, had also been pierced by hundreds of the same tiny tranquilizer darts, and he was also starting to feel their paralyzing effects.
John felt sorry for his enemy, who could never have guessed that all of the three men in that room would willingly sacrifice their own lives so that he could be captured.
The Sam Reilly Collection Page 26
