by Jack Freeman
“We’ll do this. No point in going to the bureaucracy. We should get there about 11pm if we step on it. You give directions, Mohsan.”
“Ok., cross the river Azar, then north up the I 87, then west over the George Washington Bridge and north up Highway 9 West.”
On the way, Mohsan gave further details of the plotting, explaining how money was raised by a series of small bank raids across the whole US and how trained pilots were found among the émigrés, and how Mohsan had faked appendicitis for the last few days to excuse his absence from that night’s action. Partly, Mohsan had been recruited to try to give the group favourable media coverage and to use his Company contacts to act as a source of inside information on Company plans.
“Doing PR for the New RPI will be a tough call, if this nuclear plant raid comes off,” commented Max.
Within an hour they stopped the car on a small back road that led to the private airstrip at Newburgh and discussed the next steps.
“So, there are two pilots and up to four others who may be there helping out and guarding the place. That’s not too many for us, even though we just have two guns between us,” said Max.
“Well, three, actually,” said Mohsan, taking an M1951 Beretta from his shoulder bag.
“Good, good,” said Azar, “that all helps. We have surprise on our side and a pretty big, pretty heavy car here that could do a lot of damage. It could easily disable a light plane on the ground, I would guess. This fog will be holding them up too.”
“Yes, though it is forecast to lift about 2 am so we can’t count on it for too long,” said Mohsan.
Max spoke again. “Mohsan, you know the layout. Would this work, I drop you and Azar near the gate. Then, I drive in at high speed and try to disable the planes on the ground by taking off a wheel from each, by driving straight under a wing of each plane. Meantime you come in on foot and blaze away at any New RPI you can see. If we can take out Ali that would be a bonus. Just hope there won’t be any civilians around.”
“That should work. There won’t be any civilians there. The group have got exclusive use of the strip tonight,” replied Mohsan.
Ten minutes later, Max had taken the wheel and let Azar and her brother out of the car well back from the closed gate. He let the others get up to the fence and they waited on either side of the simple wooden gate. He resolved to act in the moment like a Samurai Zen master and to strike and move without thinking. Then he revved up the V8 engine and drove at high speed straight through the closed gate, which flew off its hinges on impact. Azar and Mohsan ran in after the car and Max could hear them firing as he felt the car was aiming itself to go under the port wing of the nearest plane. Men in overalls were jumping back from the plane and looking to shelter from Colt and Beretta bullets, as the car hit the port wheel housing, breaking it off from the wing. As the wheel housing fell, it knocked off one of the trademark fins at the rear of the car.
Max then saw that the second plane was taxiing away down the strip. The car went after it with full acceleration and his Colt fired up through his open side window for good measure. The Chrysler sped under the plane as it was lifting off and the plane’s starboard wheel just caught under the car’s front window frame which projected out several inches in an unusual design feature. The wheel was briefly trapped there as the plane was unable to lift the heavy car. The Colt kept firing directly upwards and the car began getting spattered in fuel and oil from punctures the gun had put in the fuselage with the heavy calibre bullets. The plane managed to pull away with the starboard wheel housing now at a distorted angles and to Max’s pleasure he saw that the plane began to fly erratically and clipped the tops of trees in the forest due south of the runway. It managed to climb unsteadily to 400 feet but at a distance of 500 yards from the end of the runway there was a tremendous explosion as the plane went straight down nose first into the forest. Max was so transfixed by this drama that he narrowly avoided going off the end of the runway but the car spun round in an emergency handbrake turn to speed back towards the first plane, where Max heard the final shots and saw four bodies on the ground in the distance. Azar and Mohsan had pulled it off. Now we have wiped out the New RPI, and in the process saved the East Coast from radioactive contamination and the world from probable nuclear war. Now, Max thought, its just up to Kennedy and Krushchev not to screw it up, after all our good work.
As Max’s car reached near to where Azar and Mohsan were standing, the side door of the hangar opened and Ali came out firing a Kalshnikov and screaming that he would finish them all off this time. Mohsan fell wounded while Azar spun round to return fire. Max accelerated and drove straight at Ali sounding the horn to distract Ali from Azar. Ali pointed the gun at the car but before he could fire Azar got a clear shot and Ali fell forwards into Max’s path. There was a loud cracking of bones as the heavy car crushed Ali first under the front wheels and then a second time under the rear wheels.
Max got out of the car and after quickly checking that Ali was dead this time, ran over to where Mohsan was lying moaning on the tarmac while Azar checked his wound.
“At last. No more trouble from Ali Saeed. Good shooting. Probably didn’t really need to run him over too, but no harm in making sure. How’s Mohsan?” said Max.
“I think he’ll be ok. It’s a graze. We just have to rip a strip off those nice pants to make a tourniquet and he’ll be ok for hours.”
When they reached a roadside diner on the way back to Manhattan, Max found a payphone and called Jack Johnson at Langley, to explain the night’s activities. Jack was aghast at the plot and especially of the Company’s total ignorance of it. The staffer who had dismissed Mohsan’s warning would be crucified, Jack promised. He was suitably complimentary of the group’s initiative and agreed to organise a clean up crew to smooth things over at the Newburgh airstrip that night and he would arrange cover of the costs of the damaged Chrysler to pacify the car hire company.
Jack finished the call by saying “We owe you one, again, Max. Guess, I’ll forget that honey trap we held over you. All those files are as good as shredded right now. We’ll say no more about that. I wish I could say the Missile crisis was over, but things still look bleak. But you guys have earned the right to eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we may still all die. I’ll do my best to postpone all that mega-death as long as possible, so meantime, enjoy yourselves. Oh, and now Ali is gone the RPI and New RPI are out of business and I think we can close the Operation DOUBLEPAYBACK file.”
By October 28, 1962, a face saving deal between Kennedy and Kruschev was in place and the crisis was over, so that normal Cold war business could resume.
Max continued plugging his expurgated memoirs for publication and with Lola’s help secured a movie deal as well. Brando was spoken of as possible actor to play the role of Max which he felt was flattering and entirely appropriate. But, in the end, an unknown was chosen for the role and became a major star as a result. Max continued working as a security consultant to corporations, foreign governments and wealthy individuals until his death in 2001.
Azar also wrote her separate account, unexpurgated, but kept it secret and only sought publication after Max’s death.
Mohsan recovered quickly from his leg wound and became a media commentator on Middle Eastern politics.
Jack stayed on with the Company and was in Berlin at the fall of the Wall which he felt was a good time to bow out. He destroyed all notes and diaries for fear of inadvertent leaks and never spoke about his exploits outside of occasional Company re-unions. He found the movie version of Max’s adventures hilariously inaccurate and seriously deficient regarding his own role in the events depicted but kept these opinions to himself. He often thought of the spy’s motto attributed to the black clad Elizabethan spymaster, Sir Francis Walsingham, “See all and say nothing.” Fine, thought Jack, guess Walsingham didn’t even trust Elizabeth, but just acted on what he knew or thought he knew. Today he’d have to add a rider or two, making the motto, “See all and say nothin
g …except, on a need-to-know basis, or with clearance and a six figure advance.”
THE END