Tuesday, September 25, Leeward Estate Hotel
Only Neil slept well that Monday night. Bobbie was still depressed about Tonto’s disappearance, which she had discovered on Sunday morning. Despite much calling there was no sign of the little dog, and of course the guards didn’t allow anyone to search for him. Everyone else went over the escape plan in their minds time after time. All the arrangements appeared to be in place. Peter had contacted Hans the night before, and was told that the helicopter was already at Antigua International Airport, the pilot having filed the aircraft’s flight plan. This was described as a sunset trip to Saba and St. Barbe’s. Additional passengers would be picked up for disembarkation in Antigua. The pilot then checked in at the Horseshoe Bay Hotel, and was fully briefed by the Judge. It was decided that the aircraft would be brought into Leeward from the west, straight out of the setting sun, and low enough to avoid radar detection. It would fly across the tongue of land forming the northern shore of Leeward Bay, passing over the coast at 5:57 pm After that, it would proceed slowly until contact was established with Peter over the walkie-talkie. Touchdown at the hotel was to be at 6.02 pm with three minutes to get everyone on board. All watches had been synchronized to local radio time signals.
Peter was shocked when Hans told him about Anna’s collapse. She was far too weak to make any contribution at all toward the rescue. On the other hand he was relieved to know that Jon and Josie would not be on the helicopter. The single factor beyond their control was the weather, but luckily no major systems were expected. The only cloud would be some cumulus over the mountains.
4:10 pm At last the countdown began. The four o’clock changing of the guards was completed, signaling the beginning of the whole operation. Bobbie and Neil went to play in the maze, just as they’d done over the past few days. They had been briefed only an hour before, to keep them from getting too excited. Their main contribution was to enlarge the holes in the maze hedges with a pair of sharp pruning shears, smuggled in for the purpose. This took about twenty minutes. After that, they went to the center of the maze.
4:52 pm Rodney and Muriel were the next to leave the building. Along with everyone else they were normally allowed access to the kitchen patio, where they could have snacks or drinks. To get to the maze, they had to cross the fifty feet of lawn without being seen, and all they could do was to walk over it casually, hand in hand, and hope for the best. There was no challenge, and it appeared that no one had noticed them. They slipped into the entrance by the big palm tree.
Peter and Meg had been watching them nervously from the deserted dining room.
Peter glanced at his watch. “There’s a whole hour before Hans steals the pickup. I hope Rodney and Muriel won’t be missed.”
“I shouldn’t think so. The replacement guards are all busy sorting out their gear in their rooms. The place always looks deserted between four-thirty and dinner.”
“True enough. Listen, love, if anything happens to either of us—”
Meg put a finger across her husband’s lips. “You don’t have to say any more, my darling. You mustn’t think about it. I was about to tell you I’m going to the storeroom in the cellar to get some supplies for the imaginary dinner. I know it’s not in the schedule, but I want to be sure things look normal.”
“Good idea. I’ll go into the kitchen.”
“See you in a couple of minutes. It’s okay. Everything will be fine.”
5:03 pm Rodney and Muriel found the children sitting in the shade on one side of the center garden. The whole of this area was completely secure, and no one could be seen, not even from the highest window in the hotel. In any case, those rooms were unoccupied since the guards preferred to remain on the second floor.
“Do we have to go into The Pit?” asked Bobbie in a whisper.
“You needn’t, but us tall grownups ought to, just to be on the safe side.”
Rodney was getting nervous and had visions of someone on the hotel roof. He swung open the flagstone and followed his wife below. Like everyone else, they wore dark shorts and shirts to reduce the chance of anyone being spotted in the approaching dusk.
5:20 pm Meg returned to the dining room, found it empty, and proceeded into the kitchen to join Peter.
“Have some ginger ale,” he said. “You look hot. Is anything wrong?”
“No. Nothing seems out of the ordinary. Nothing at all.”
5:35 pm It had been a long quarter of an hour. Peter’s schedule dictated that he should go to his office and then return to the dining room to make sure the guard on the front desk knew he was around. He nodded to the man as he emerged from the tiny room with a piece of paper in his hand to make it look as though he had been inside for a purpose. There was no comment as he walked across the hall, but another man was coming down the stairs.
“About time for dinner, isn’t it?” asked the policeman.
“Not for half an hour.” Peter tried to keep his voice calm and normal. “We’ll be ready.”
The dining room door swung closed behind him and he quietly locked and bolted it.
5:44 pm They were two minutes late. Peter and Meg should have crossed to the maze at 5:42. In six minutes all hell would break loose as Hans drove away in the pickup.
“Quick,” said Meg. “Carry this mug of beer out through the kitchen patio. I’ll be right behind.”
As planned, they strolled across the grass to the maze carrying drinks to make themselves look casual. While they were doing so, Peter recalled some precautions he had taken the day before. He had managed to close the three bedrooms above the dining room without any serious questions being asked. A small plumbing problem had been engineered. This meant that they wouldn’t be noticed unless a guard appeared out of nowhere. The replacement detail didn’t usually start patrolling the grounds until after dinner each day, so detection was unlikely. Nevertheless, both of them were shaking as they threw aside their glasses in the now shady pathway between the maze hedges.
5:47 pm Hans was like a coiled spring, tense, and breathing rapidly. He was hiding in the shrubbery not twenty feet from the pickup, which was positioned at one end of the main car park in front of the hotel. Norton Grinder had dropped him at Mrs. Robinson’s, and he had made his way unseen to his present location. Unfortunately, he would have to reverse the truck a few feet before turning to the left to leave the car park. After that he would cross a stretch of grass, dodging between a few trees before joining the driveway. He couldn’t take the proper exit as it was too close to the guard at the front door, who at this moment was looking the other way.
Hans’ watch indicated 5:48. There were still two minutes to go before he was supposed to start the engine, but everything might not stay quiet if he waited. He made up his mind to get on with it, and took the keys out of his pocket to have them ready in his hand. Keeping the cab of the truck in a line between himself and the hotel front door, he moved cautiously through the vegetation. His sneakers made no sound, but the noise of foliage brushing against his body seemed inordinately loud.
In a few moments, Hans was standing on the pavement of the car park. He wondered if the guard would notice his feet under the truck, but there was no challenge. Very carefully, he turned the handle of the door on the passenger side. He would have to slide across to the driver’s seat so he wouldn’t be seen. Suddenly the handle gave. There was a clunk and the door swung open, squeaking loudly. For a second Hans thought he’d got away with it, but he was out of luck.
“Hey! What the fuck’s going on?” The voice was loud and angry.
Hans moved fast, taking no more precautions. He flung himself across the passenger seat, slamming the door behind him, then he pushed the key into the ignition and turned it. The engine coughed and stopped. There was a sharp crack as a bullet hit the vehicle somewhere back of the cab. The engine caught second try.
Hans kept his head well down until he was crossing the grass. Suddenly he saw he was heading straight for a tree, and swung the wheel violently. The
re was a ringing crash as the truck sideswiped it with the passenger side, smashing the window into a thousand pieces of safety glass. Once on the driveway he wasted no time and took off toward Saddles at high speed. A glance in the rearview mirror told him that no one was following, then he realized this wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. He was meant to ensure pursuit, diverting guards from the hotel. So he stopped and waited, eyes on the mirror, for what seemed forever. He glanced at his watch. 5:55 pm He was a little early, maybe that was the problem. A minute later, headlights flashed in the mirror. A jeep by the looks of it. Time to go!
5:50 pm Peter and Meg had heard the shot, then a lot of shouting, then the crash, which really worried Peter until there was the sound of another vehicle starting up. It left a minute or so later. They decided Hans had made it.
5:55 pm It was about this time that police personnel normally entered the dining room for dinner. Expecting to hear the sound of the locked door being broken down, Peter and Meg had waited near the maze entrance. There was a lot of yelling from inside the hotel, but no evidence that the eating area was being checked. Meg peered through the small hole she’d made in the hedge, but could see no activity in the dining room.
“I don’t like it,” whispered Peter. “There are still far too many guards. They’re supposed to be chasing the pickup.”
“I’ll join the others in the center of the maze, and we’ll move to the hole in the back hedge ready for the helicopter.” Meg put a hand on her husband’s arm. “Don’t worry. Remember the pilot can hold until it’s nearly dark. Join us when you’re ready.”
“It won’t hurt to establish radio contact right now. The chopper ought to be in range. See you in a few minutes.”
5:57 pm Peter switched the walkie-talkie to transmit, at the same time looking through the hole that Meg had just vacated. “This is Echo 5 to Catbird 6, acknowledge!”
Anyone listening wouldn’t have the faintest idea what was going on.
“Catbird 6 receiving strength 5. Estimate five minutes to touchdown.”
On the button. The chopper was due on the ground at 6:02 pm “Request hold about two minutes. Await my instructions. Echo 5, out.”
“Catbird 6, roger.”
5:58 pm Nothing from the hotel. Some shouting but no action in the dining room, and no more vehicles leaving. Peter’s heart was racing. Too many guards left behind! Far too much fire power! Surely they must have searched the building by this time!
5:59 pm Still nothing. The helicopter would have to continue holding. As far as Peter could figure, Hans had only been chased by a jeep, probably with no more than four men it. That left fifteen. There were two trucks out front, and he had expected both to have left by this time. Finally, at long last, he heard the sound of breaking glass from the dining room. The door’s frosted glass panels were being smashed. Then the lights came on, shining through the windows and casting patches of brilliance on the now darkened lawn. Peter moved through the maze as fast as he could. Dare he anticipate the departure of more guards and give the helicopter pilot the okay? He shook his head; it would be too risky. He stopped walking, and switched on the communicator.
“Echo 5. Catbird 6 where are you?”
“On the ground about three minutes from touchdown.”
“Can you hold a bit longer? Too many rogues still here.”
“Sure. We’re way off the nearest road in a salt marsh. No signs of rogues.”
“Estimate hold three more minutes. Echo 5, out.” Peter glanced at his watch.
6:00 pm Touchdown would have to be at about 6:06, four minutes late. He could see no problem with that and continued through the maze, frustrated at the time it took to follow the complex route to the center. Then Peter heard the sound he’d been waiting for. He couldn’t believe his luck. Two trucks started up one after the other, the clatter of their engines clearly audible.
6:02 pm At the maze center he pushed transmit again. “Echo 5. Go for touchdown, Catbird 6. Acknowledge.”
“Roger. ETA four minutes. Catbird 6, out.”
Four minutes, not three! Then he remembered the chopper had to get airborne.
Peter began to worry about the numerous radio transmissions. He was well aware that the rescue might be jeopardized if anyone heard them, even though they were meaningless. But it was too late now. Banishing these thoughts, he forced his way onwards through the gaps in the hedges, branches tearing at his clothes and scratching his face.
“Here’s Daddy.”
Peter heard Bobbie’s hoarse whisper as he crawled through the last hole and stood. He checked the time.
6:04 pm “Are they coming?” Rodney was holding his son by the hand.
“Two minutes,” replied Peter. “Quiet everyone and listen.” The silence was eerie, broken only by the peeping of frogs, and the far off sound of the trucks. Surely he could hear a fair-sized helicopter a couple of minutes away. Or was it lost? After all, none of the rescue team had been to the hotel before, or even St. Barbe’s for that matter. But apart from being four minutes late, things had gone pretty well so far. Too well?
6:05 pm The pilot kept the helicopter just above the treetops. The large sliding doors on one side of the fuselage were open, revealing a bare metal platform. The Judge had clipped himself to a safety strap at the back of the opening, and Trilby was at the front. They were wearing headphones through which the pilot communicated, but these would be taken off when they landed at the hotel. Six passenger seats were located out of sight, to the rear of the aircraft.
The helicopter had been airborne for about thirty seconds when it shot over a road. Directly ahead was a rising hillside of sugar canes. The pilot realized they were well to the north of his planned approach, but he soon saw a couple of trucks speeding southward through the village of Saddles a mile or so away. Because of this, he decided it was better to come in from the north after all. Most likely the trucks were carrying guards, and they probably wouldn’t have seen the chopper. A moment later they were over the railway that was used to transport sugar cane, and the pilot knew exactly where he was.
6:07 pm Everyone in the maze was edgy, then in an instant the silence was transformed into a bellowing roar of wind and noise as the helicopter rose up from dead ground. The down draught flattened the sugar canes as it passed over the spot where the Seakers’ bodies had been found.
Judge Winchester’s mind flashed back, and for a second he was wearing army uniform and pointing a heavy machine gun at the dense forest below. Then the aircraft began to sink between two trees, and the machine gun became a semiautomatic rifle, and his uniform a dark blue shirt and shorts. The lights were on in many of the hotel rooms, but he saw no signs of activity through the windows. He ripped off his headset, unclipped the safety belt, and gave a thumbs up for all on the ground to see. They were down. He glanced at Trilby, who also had a rifle. He was shading his eyes against the still bright sky beyond the hotel.
The prisoners emerged from the hedge on all fours, and waited with their backs against it. Then they ran two by two across the hundred feet of grass to the helicopter, ducking down under the draught of the idling rotors. Trilby lowered the aluminum boarding steps, and helped Neil and his mother climb aboard, motioning to the seats behind. Bobbie and Meg came next. Bobbie went straight to a seat, but Meg remained where she could still see out, and watched as Rodney and Peter ran almost side-by-side across the grass. Suddenly, clearly audible above the sound of the chopper’s engine, there were three sharp cracks. Peter almost flew through the air as he stumbled and landed on his face in the grass. He didn’t move.
At the sound of the shots Rodney glanced back instinctively, and saw Peter fall. He stopped, turned round, and bent over the still body. On the helicopter, Judge Winchester saw flashes from the shadow of a top story room, and just caught sight of Peter falling. Before he could raise his rifle there were two more shots, and these indicated the position of the sniper accurately. The Judge kept pulling the trigger time and time again, even afte
r a human form toppled forward out of the window and fell in apparent slow motion to the ground. The sound of its impact was drowned by the noise of the helicopter. He glanced at Trilby, and saw to his horror that he too had been hit, and was lying on his back on the deck. At the end of the few seconds making up the compressed time frame of all these incidents, he heard Meg’s scream as she saw her fallen husband. She jumped to the ground and ran to him. Bobbie sensed horror, but Muriel restrained her.
Judge Winchester followed Meg, running the few feet across the grass. He thrust his gun into Rodney’s hand and yelled into his ear, “Cover us! Quickly!”
Meg was bending over Peter and trying to turn him over. For the second time in the last two days the Judge touched the neck of an injured person, but this time there was no pulse, no sign of breathing. Meg looked up at him, tears welling.
Judge Winchester put an arm round her shoulders and shouted. “I’m sorry, he’s gone! Hurry before another guard starts shooting!”
Meg pulled at Peter’s body, wanting to get him to the helicopter, but the Judge shook his head. The pilot was waving frantically from the cockpit, and another shot rang out, this time from the corner of the maze. But before the guard could try again, Rodney fired three shots in his direction. The Judge pushed Meg up the steps and flung himself to the deck on his stomach, feeling the chopper lift under him almost instantly. He staggered to his feet, and with Rodney’s help managed to get the sliding doors closed as the aircraft rose at the speed of an express elevator. Meg was trying to calm a frantic Bobbie, and Muriel was bending over Trilby who had struggled into a sitting position, one arm hanging useless and limp. The Judge located a first-aid kit and helped Trilby take off his shirt. There was a nasty-looking wound in his upper arm, but as far as he could see, the bullet had passed right through the muscle without touching the bone.
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