by Dan Alatorre
The old man turned away. “Don’t count on me doing it again.”
Chapter 32
The pilot appeared at Hollings’ door. “What’s going on back here? You can’t shoot a gun in an aircraft!”
“Apparently I can,” Hollings scoffed. “Now, you’ve got flying to do. Get back to the cockpit.”
The pilot frowned. “Keep that weapon holstered. If you put a hole in the fuselage, the plane could depressurize. Remember that.”
“And you remember.” Hollings held up his pistol. “I’ve got a gun. The second this plane touches down, have it ready to get airborne again, understood? There won’t be much time.”
The pilot pointed at Hollings. “We’re preparing to land right now. Keep your people in line.” Turning, he headed back to the cockpit.
Hollings looked out the window. The airfield on Honolulu stretched along the island shoreline. Seaplanes and sailboats dotted the inner harbors and marinas.
“Ah, I’m practically tingling inside. We’re about to close the biggest deal of our lives and get rid of our biggest rival at the same time.”
Miss Franklin took the seat next to him. “What about Helena?”
“We’ll show Twa’s people the body and tell them that she suffered a stroke during the flight.” He shrugged. “She’s old, couldn’t be helped, we did our best—that sort of thing. He might trim a little off the purchase price, but Keeper 27 was never what he wanted anyway.”
The captain’s voice came over the overhead speakers. “We will be landing in a few minutes. All passengers, fasten your seat belts and secure any loose items. Flight crew, prepare for landing.”
The plane engines throttled back as the aircraft descended toward the airport.
“All right, miss. That’s your cue.” Hollings faced Miss Franklin. “Have this airplane land like it’s a flying fortress. I want guns ready and aimed in all directions the second we land. When Twa’s people appear, you and I will take a small band of armed guards with us to go out to make the trade. As soon as we verify that Constantine is present, your soldiers start unloading the money . . . then they attack and kill everyone in sight. We take the girl, load the money back up, and we go.”
“He’ll be expecting an ambush.”
Hollings shook his head. “He’ll be expecting a dozen guns, tops. Not the arsenal we brought. And if there’s shooting, stick close to the little girl. Twa’s people will have been told not to shoot anywhere near her, so that will be the safest place on this island.” He exhaled, shaking his hands out like they had water on them. “I’m like a boxer before a prize fight. Can’t wait to get this deal done and get to Jakarta. Got friends there who’ll get us safe passage to Cambodia, and from there I can go anywhere on the planet that I want.”
* * * * *
Trinn put a hand to her bruised throat. “I feel like my neck and shoulders were in a car crash.”
DeShear knelt next to her. “They’re slowing the engines, so I need to move fast. Helena says Hollings plans to start a shooting spree on the runway, but that Constantine isn’t here.”
“They’ve been holding her on the far side of Maui.” Helena stood at Trinn’s feet, steadying herself in the jostling cargo bay by holding onto a crate. “It’s a barren, remote area on the desert cliffs, with an abandoned house.”
DeShear pounded his fist into his other hand. “Then as soon as this plane touches the runway and begins to slow down, I’m opening that loading platform and jumping out. I’m going to get Constantine.”
“Okay.” Trinn sat up. “I’m coming with you.”
“Hey, whoa.” DeShear shook his head. “I’m not sure you’re in any kind of shape—”
“Hey, yourself,” Trinn said. “I might look rough, but I won my wrestling match with The Bahamas Strangler. I can go—so let’s stop debating and figure out how.”
Taking a deep breath, DeShear rubbed his chin stubble. “This plane will still be moving pretty fast when the wheels hit the tarmac. We can’t wait too long to jump or we’ll be spotted—and in range of any guns Hollings has.”
Helena clutched her hands to her waist. “Can you jump into the water when we get close?”
“We’re going too fast.” Trinn got to her feet. “Water doesn’t compress. Hitting it at this speed would be like hitting concrete.”
Helena put her hand to her lip. “Oh, dear.”
“We don’t need them to slow down very much if we can cushion the impact somehow.” DeShear glanced at the wooden crates. “Maybe . . .”
“What about Helena?” Trinn glanced at DeShear.
“Everyone on board thinks I’m dead.” Helena picked up the corner of her blanket. “I imagine if I lay on the floor and pull the covers back over my face, they’ll continue to think so. I wouldn’t think anyone would look twice at someone they already believe is dead.”
“Okay.” DeShear kicked the side of a wooden crate, breaking it into several pieces. He held up one of the boards, walking to the section door and jamming it under the knob. “That won’t hold long, but it’ll buy some time. Now we just need to figure out how to get off without getting killed.”
Helena leaned over and pulled the blanket off the large aluminum stretcher. “I thought perhaps this might come in handy.”
* * * * *
In the private cabin, Miss Franklin peered out the window as the runway got closer. Green grass and palm trees rushed by, getting larger and larger until the plane bounced as the tires made impact.
The pilot came over the intercom. “I’ve got a warning light on our tail loading platform. One of your people has opened the tail gate!”
Hollings’ jaw dropped. “One of your hired hands is trying to make off with the money!”
Franklin raised her pistol and jumped up from her seat. “I’m on it.”
* * * * *
The door knob of the rear compartment rattled, but the wedge of broken crate held it shut. Winds swirled through the cargo bay like a tornado as the platform inched downward. Lying on the floor with the edges of the blanket tucked underneath of her, Helena laid still.
“Ready?” Trinn crouched, putting a hand on each side of the heavy stretcher’s frame.
DeShear shook his head. “We’re still going too fast.”
Thumps came from the compartment door as it cracked and splintered. A hole appeared in the center of the thin barrier.
Trinn glanced at DeShear. “Looks like we’d better go anyway.”
A woman’s hand reached through the hole in the door, grabbing at the knob. The loading platform lowered to where it was horizontal, slowly continuing downward.
DeShear nodded. “Okay. Do it.”
Trinn laid down on the stretcher. The speeding runway loomed around the descending platform, continuing to angle downward. “We probably won’t stay upright very long, Hank. When this thing flips, cover your face and head as best you can, and roll.”
DeShear swallowed hard, putting his hands on the sides of the stretcher. He shoved it onto the platform, the wind pulling at his shirt.
The hand in the compartment door retracted, and the barrel of a gun appeared.
“When the platform hits the runway,” Trinn said, “Shove off, jump on—and keep low.”
A gunshot bounced off the side of the platform, sending up sparks. DeShear flinched, glancing over his shoulder. The door broke open. A woman and three soldiers rushed toward him.
“Stop!” The woman pointed her gun at him. “Stop!”
DeShear shoved the stretcher. The platform jolted, sparks flying as it scraped the runway. He gave one final push with his legs, jumping onto the stretcher as it slid off the back of the tailgate.
The stretcher rumbled and screeched as it sped over the concrete tarmac, bouncing wildly. The wind threw Trinn’s hair into DeShear’s eyes as he pressed himself down on her, clinging to the aluminum frame.
“Hang on!” Trinn shouted.
The speeding stretcher angled sideways towards the grass median, bum
ping and bouncing higher and higher, until it flipped over, spilling its occupants out.
DeShear closed his eyes and covered his head, rolling and smacking the soil like he was being beaten with a dozen sandbags from head to foot. Dirt flew everywhere, dumping into his ears and nose, filling his mouth as he rolled over the grassy patch.
He slammed sideways into a small bush, stopping. A cloud of dust passed. Cut and bruised, he lifted his head, spitting dirt and pebbles.
The cargo plane continued down the runway, its tailgate streaming sparks.
As the dust from his collision settled, he saw Trinn sitting up nearby. “Hey,” he said. “You still alive?”
“Barely.” She smacked the dirt from her legs and torso. “You?”
He nodded, getting to his feet. “I guess we made it. Now we need to steal some transportation.”
Trinn stood, pointing to the marina. A dozen seaplanes floated in the calm waters of the harbor. “What about one of those?”
Chapter 33
The choppy noise of a big engine drowned out every other sound in the cabin. Constantine looked out the door in time to see a red helicopter zoom past the cliff and hover over the old main house. Solaine peered over her shoulder as the helicopter descended into a cloud of dust, landing in the front yard.
“We’ve got a visitor,” the doctor said. “That’s Armen Twa.”
“What’s he doing here?” Constantine stepped away from the door.
The doctor glanced at Constantine. “Inspecting the goods, I suspect.”
“Well, he shall have to inspect quickly.” She grabbed her red windbreaker and put it on, marching to the back door.
“Child, don’t.” Solaine swallowed hard. “If they lose you, they . . . have no reason to keep me.”
She nodded. “Then we shall have to leave together.”
“No . . .” The doctor wrapped his arms around himself, quivering.
Constantine glanced at the bathroom door. “Could you tell them I’m in the loo? That may give me a few minutes. Perhaps . . . when they come after me, an opportunity will present itself, and you can get away.”
He stared at the main house, rubbing his arms.
Zipping up her windbreaker, Constantine eased open the rear door and raced across the stone yard to the crevice.
* * * * *
“Change of plans.” Armen Twa took off his Panama hat as he entered the main house. “One of my people has seen something at the airport they didn’t like. It’s an ant mound of activity. Bring me the girl. We leave now.”
“She is just in the cabin,” Valentin said.
“Take the Jeep and ditch it, too.” Twa paced back and forth, frowning. “Nicole, go with him. There are a hundred cliffs on this island that don’t have rocks at the bottom. Find the closest one and drive the car off.” He glanced at the sparce roof. “I’d say we should burn this old relic, but we can’t afford for the smoke to be seen.”
Valentin nodded. “And then?”
“And then I have a jet waiting on Kahului Airport, on the other side of this rock. We get out of here until things cool down, then we figure out our next move. Now, where is the girl?”
“This way.” Nicole headed to the back door, but Valentin pushed his way in front of her and held the door open for Mr. Twa.
“Constantine!” Valentin walked quickly over the stone yard. “Constantine, come here.” He went down the cabin steps and looked around. “Constantine!”
The cabin was empty.
Chapter 34
As the cargo plane slowed to a stop, swarms of marines came out of the surrounding buildings. The military troops pointed their rifles at the plane as loudspeakers blared, telling everybody on board to surrender.
As the criminals were marched off the plane with their hands up, Dr. Kittaleye walked toward the procession, trailed by Ari and Special Agent Matt Eicholtz of the FBI.
Kitt pointed at Hollings. “There he is, Agent. That’s the man who kidnapped me.”
The FBI agent pulled Hollings out of the line. “Sir, come with me. You’re under arrest.”
“What?” Hollings shouted. “I’ve not kidnapped anyone! I’ve never seen this bird before in my life.”
“Oh, you’re not under arrest for kidnapping—yet.” Eicholtz snapped handcuff on Hollings’ wrist. “But the minute you touched down on U.S. soil with all those guns, that was a little bit of a violation of Federal law. We watched the whole thing on a satellite feed, thanks to the doctor you say you never met. Transportation and possession of illegal firearms carries a stiff sentence.”
Kitt smiled. “Judging by that armory they’re unloading, I’d say you’ll be spending quite a few years in prison, fat boy. But let the nice FBI agent read you your rights. You can remain silent—and I’d love it if you would.”
Eicholtz held Hollings’ other wrist behind his back and finished handcuffing him. “Funny thing. About an hour ago we arrested a group almost as big as this one. Bunch of Asian fellas with a bunch of guns, looking for some kind of a meeting. Don’t suppose you know what that was about?”
“Bugger!” Hollings shouted. “It was Twa! That dirty, double crossing—I mean . . . silent! I wish to remain silent! And get me a lawyer!”
As Eicholtz loaded Hollings into a squad car, another FBI agent escorted Helena from the plane.
At the bottom of the stairs, the elderly woman threw her arms around Kitt. “Doctor! How good to see you!”
“Oh, I’m so glad you’re okay.” Kitt squeezed Helena tight. “But I do have a bone to pick with you. Call Jaden Trinn’s boss and tell him ‘Mau-oui’? Call the President? And tell him ‘Maui’? They thought I was crazy.”
“Well . . .” Helena smiled, the wind blowing her gray hair. “Somebody obviously figured it out.”
“Yeah. This guy did.” Kitt gestured to Ari. “Helena, this is—”
“Aristotle Hiles,” Helena said. “Of Israeli intelligence. Dear, I’ve met Ari once before.”
“There’s less gunfire this time.” Ari chuckled. “But looking at all these weapons, it was close.”
“How . . .” Kitt frowned. “How do you two . . .”
“I shall explain later, doctor.” She turned to Ari. “Right now, I must ask you for an urgent favor.”
Chapter 35
“You must hold the wall at all time,” Dr. Solaine shouted, inching his way along the cliff ledge. Constantine moved sideways on the narrow path in front of him. “One bad move and you will land on the rocks.”
Hugging the stone face, Constantine slid her red sneaker a few inches out, then moved the other one.
“Yes, yes. That’s it.” The doctor took a half step and peered over his shoulder. The big blue waves crashed over the rocks below. He turned his face and closed his eyes, shuddering. “And whatever you do, don’t look down. Around the corner, the ledge narrows but there are no rocks below. But it is crumbly. You must watch yourself.”
Constantine breathed hard, clinging to the cliff face as she inched forward. She glanced down at the crystalline blue waves, her stomach jolting. “We’re so far up!”
“Not for long if you don’t watch your step. Keep moving, but always hold the wall.”
The path narrowed as it curved around the side of the cliff. Bits of the ledge had broken away, leaving gaps she had to stretch across.
“Yes. Good.” Solaine panted. “Hold the wall and reach with one foot. Test the ledge. If it holds, take the step and move on.”
Constantine looked ahead. “The path is getting smaller!”
“It is plenty wide enough for a little girl and an old man. Keep moving.”
She looked down again. The patch of rocks had passed. Now, the waves smashed directly into the cliff face below, sending up a fine sea mist that coated the path and made it shiny. She grimaced, stretching her foot out as she clutched the stone surface. The wind whipped her hair into her face.
“Lean into the cliff,” Solaine shouted. “Push your weight into the wall.”
>
Each step grew more slippery than the last. Constantine kept her eyes on the path, carefully placing each foot as she moved.
A hundred feet ahead, the ancient lava slide loomed over the waves. The hardened lava water slide cascaded downward into the water where it was much calmer. The waves splashed against it, but without the hard boom they produced when they hit the cliffs beneath the cabin.
In the distance, the other island rose from the sea. It was brown and bleak, a lifeless desert of empty volcanic rock, swept bare by the ever-present winds.
The calm water between the two islands glistened in the sunlight.
The roar of a helicopter soared overheard, swooping downward as it flew past. Constantine flinched, gripping the cliff. Armen Twa’s red helicopter swung in a wide arc.
“Your coat!” Solaine shouted.
Constantine looked down at her red windbreaker.
It will stand out against the gray of the cliff.
“They’ll see us,” he said. “Quick! Take it off.”
Constantine took her hand away from the stone wall and immediately put it back. “I can’t. I’ll have to let go of the cliff and I’ll fall.”
“Take it off!” the doctor shouted. “Hurry!”
* * * * *
In the co-pilot seat of the helicopter, Valentin stared out at the water. Armen Twa sat next to him, speaking over his headset.
“Do you see anything?”
Valentin shook his head, pressing his microphone close to his mouth. “It’s impossible from this height. The ocean is so big, with so many waves . . . each reflection of the sunlight is a false alarm.”
Twa nodded, steering the helicopter toward the cliff. “I can’t get too close to the cliffs. There’s a strong wind shear. It wreaks havoc with the helicopter blades. It could crash us.”
Valentin scanned the water and the stony cliff face. “I don’t see how they could be on the side of the cliff. Not this far away from the cabin. Try the grounds again. They have to be—”
“Look!” Nicole pointed to a red dot on the cliff wall. “It’s Constantine.”