“November 2115, we read you. You are on a four-mile final for 9R. What are you doing by the volcano? The Directorate of Air Transportation has closed all air traffic to that region. You are in restricted airspace.”
“Roger that, tower, I am operating under the authority of the United States Geological Survey. We were monitoring Misti and picked up four civilians stranded on the mountain. We are now being pursued and attacked by unknown aircraft. We have suffered damage.”
Jesse heard only silence on his radio.
“We got them!” Tom announced, pulling Randall and Phil into the bay of the Sikorsky and closing the door.
More gunfire and more hits to the Sikorsky; the engine was now smoking. “Strap yourselves in!” Jesse put the Sikorsky into a steep dive, heading for the craggy, rocky surface of Misti.
“What are you doing, Jesse?” Tom asked, his face white as ash.
“Trying to save our collective asses!”
The helicopter fell straight toward the earth at frightening speed. As the earth drew nearer, Tom’s concern grew that they would not be able to pull out of the death dive. Finally, the pressure was too much.
“Jesse, pull up this damn helicopter! There’s no point trying to save us if you kill us in the process!”
At the last possible moment, Jesse pulled back on the stick. It fought back tremendously, inertia not wanting their path to change. With great effort, he leveled out the Sikorsky and immediately looked back to see the other helicopter following closely behind. He wasn’t finished. He began to fly very low, hugging the contour of the ground below him and trying to use the natural features to evade the other helicopter. This technique, Nap-of-the-Earth, while unsettling to others, was second-nature to Jesse, given the number of times he had used the strategy in the service.
Tom looked on wearily. “Have you done this before?” Jesse nodded and then he saw what he wanted: a tree-lined stream. He aimed the Sikorsky straight for it. Flying below the tree line, Jesse skillfully guided the injured helicopter along, the other helicopter still in pursuit but unable to get a clear enough view to take a shot.
“So what’s the plan?”
“Arequipa Airport is on the other side of this mountain. We’re going to fly like this as long as we can, and when we get to the other side of the mountain, we’re going to make a beeline straight for the airport. Hopefully by then we’ll have radio access again and can get some help to get this guy off our tail.”
Not much of a plan, Tom thought to himself, but he didn’t have any better ideas. Instead, he walked to the back of the helicopter to check on their new guests.
“You folks okay?” They responded with a round of nods. “Good, now can you tell me what the hell is going on here? We caught the light show from Misti, saw people popping out of the side of a goddam volcano, and now we have another helicopter trying to kill us.”
Sam and Randall exchanged glances, and then looked back at Tom. No one said anything. Tom sighed. “Are you serious? We just pulled your assess out of the fire, and you’re going to give me the silent treatment?”
More blank stares.
“Fine, I’ll tell you my friend’s theory.” He pointed to Jesse in the cockpit. “He thinks there’s a secret testing facility of some sort under that mountain, and something went terribly wrong. Is it a government facility? What are they testing, and what were you folks doing there?”
Randall saw the opening and jumped in. “He’s right, it is a secret facility, but we don’t have anything to do with it. We were researching archeological ruins inside the mountain and stumbled onto the facility.”
“There’s an archeological site in Misti?”
“Yes, and while we were there, we ran across these characters who weren’t happy about us being near their facility. They took us prisoner and we had to escape.”
“You were taken prisoner?”
“That’s right. We escaped through the tunnel you saw,” Randall answered.
“Jesse and I heard and saw an explosion. What happened?”
“An earthquake closed the opening before my dad could get out. He had to use an explosive charge to blow a hole in the side of the mountain to escape,” Sam said.
Tom cocked his head to the side and, looking unsure about the story, nodded for them to continue.
“The guy you saw pop out of the mountain before us, is the head of the facility. He wasn’t very happy that we got away. That’s his helicopter and he doesn’t want us sharing what we saw with the outside world,” Randall said.
“What did you see?”
“Just a lot of fancy electronic equipment and soldiers toting weapons. That’s the thing, the place looked like a state-of-the-art research facility, but we have no idea what they’re testing. We were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. To tell you the truth, we were lucky to get out alive.”
Randall searched Tom’s reaction to see if he was buying his story. He knew that when, or if, they made it back to civilization safely, he would have to explain what had happened to the authorities, as well. He viewed Tom as a test case. If he could convince him, he might have a chance to convince the authorities. Of course, it would help that the University could confirm his research story. The only loose end would be George, and they would undoubtedly check to confirm each of their identities before letting anyone go.
“So you’re all archaeologists?” Tom asked.
“All of us except George, there.” Randall pointed at his injured friend. “He’s an engineer, and we asked him to join us because of alleged electromagnetic interference associated with the site. None of us has the expertise in that field, and I have a colleague, Dr. Francisco Andrade, who has worked with George before. He recommended we contact him. Of course we found that the cause of the electromagnetic interference was the facility and whatever they’re doing there.”
Tom rubbed his neck, “I guess I’ll just have to take you at your word. The electromagnetic interference part makes sense. We tried calling the control tower on several occasions and couldn’t get through until after we saw the light show and explosions.”
Tom stared at Randall, then turned to look at Sam and the others.
“We barely got out of that tunnel before some major volcanic activity started. I could be wrong, but I think parts of the mountain started to collapse. There was magma coming up the tube we escaped through. My guess is that the geothermal activity down there destroyed most of the facility and whatever was generating the electromagnetic field. That would have been right around when you picked us up.”
Randall watched as Tom studied him, unsure if he believed the story. Small details aside, his story was mostly true and would explain most of what Tom and Jesse had seen and experienced.
Tom scratched his head and had a thoughtful look on his face. Randall could see him weighing the facts in his head.
“We’ve been through a lot, and I just want to get us all home,” Randall said, placing a hand on Sam’s shoulder. Tom’s posture softened.
“What are your names?”
“That’s my daughter, Samantha; this is Phil, he’s a graduate student who works for me; and I’m Nick Randall. And your name is?” Randall stuck out his hand.
“I’m Tom Reinsdorf, with the United Stated Geological Survey. We’re here helping the locals deal with this volcano. Jesse and I were taking one more pass over Misti when we saw you all. Good thing we happened along when we did.” Tom extended his hand and the two men shook.
“Well, Tom, I’m grateful that you did come by and even more grateful that you were willing to stop and help us out. You guys really put yourselves in some serious danger to help out a bunch of strangers.”
“Thanks, but we should probably hold off on any appreciation until we actually get you all back to safety.”
“Tom, I need you up here!” Jesse called.
“Excuse me, folks.” Tom walked up to the cockpit, leaving the group alone. “What’s going on, Jesse?”
“We’re
almost to the other side of the mountain, and I’ve got some bad news. Looks like one of those shots we took must have hit a hydraulic line. We’ve been losing pressure, and I’m having a hard time keeping this bird under control.”
“Are you saying we’re not going to make it?”
“I’m not sure if we’ll be able to fly all the way back to the airport, and even if we do, there’s no way we’ll be able to take any kind of evasive maneuvers. It’ll take all I’ve got just to keep this thing in the air.”
“So once we clear the mountain, we’ll be sitting ducks for those guys to cut to pieces. Is that about right?” Tom asked. Jesse nodded. “How far are we from the airport?”
“About three miles out. You’d better tell them to strap in tight, we might have to make an emergency landing and hope for the best.” Tom nodded and disappeared back into the main cabin of the helicopter.
The injured Sikorsky struggled forward, smoke pluming from the damaged hydraulic line in the rear tail structure. Not a light craft to begin with, it now handled like a brick with wings. Jesse struggled to keep control, but the added weight of the extra passengers only made flying that much more difficult. And to make things worse, they were quickly approaching the end of the curving, tree-covered path he had used to keep the other helicopter from getting a clear shot at them.
Tom addressed his passengers: “Everyone, if I give you the signal that we’re going down, I need you all to hold onto something solid and brace yourselves for impact. Jesse will try his best to keep the helicopter under control, but he can only do so much.” With this piece of news, glances were exchanged in the main cabin as grips tightened around anything that appeared solid.
As the Sikorsky cleared the tree line, Jesse glanced back to see how close his pursuers were. He immediately regretted looking, as the combat chopper popped immediately into view. Although Jesse couldn’t see his face, he felt certain that the gunner in the opposing chopper had a wide grin on his face seeing the ailing Sikorsky in wide-open skies. The now familiar sound of fifty-millimeter rounds ripped the air around them and, once again, some found their mark. Jesse could hear screams from the back as another window exploded inward. The stick became heavier in his hands, and his worst fears were soon realized.
“We’re going down!”
A wide ribbon of smoke trailed the Sikorsky as it plummeted from the sky. Barely able to control the descent, Jesse wrestled with the heavy stick, using both hands. As best he could, he aimed the flying block of metal for a soft piece of earth with tall grass, hoping the brush would cushion the impact of landing.
Bullets continued raining down on them; the combat helicopter gunman was having a field day with his wounded prey. Within minutes, the Sikorsky had lost almost all altitude.
“Brace for impact!” Jesse pulled up on the stick with all of his might as the helicopter approached the ground and, almost magically, the helicopter became buoyant for a fraction of a second before hitting the ground with a loud thud.
The Sikorsky had managed to maintain its structural integrity despite the hard landing, but it was damaged beyond repair. Jesse glanced back at the hovering combat helicopter, but a ribbon of blood trickling down his face obscured his view. “Is everyone alright?” Groans came first from the back, then slowly, responses from each passenger.
“We’re okay,” Phil answered.
Jesse wiped his forehead and removed his safety harness. Reaching under his seat, he removed his .45 caliber handgun. Glancing to the side, he saw a groggy Tom trying to shake off the effects of the crash landing. Turning his head in Jesse’s direction, Tom’s eyes grew wide at the site of the gun.
“I know it’s not much, but it’s something. Stay here with the rest of them.” With that, Jesse popped the door hatch and moved outside the smoldering chopper.
Slowly making his way toward the back of the Sikorsky and using the body as a shield between the other chopper and himself, Jesse took careful aim and fired several rounds at the hovering chopper. Almost instantly, the combat chopper pulled up and to the right and flew out of sight. Dumbfounded, Jesse lowered his weapon, looking at the smoking barrel. Tom’s voice called him back to reality.
“Jesse, we’re getting a call on the radio.” Jesse opened the side door to hear the good news.
“November 2115, this is air traffic control, I repeat, has assistance arrived? Are you still with us?”
“Tower, this is November 2115, we’re alright. Hostile aircraft has left the area.” Glancing through the cracked windshield, for the first time Jesse noticed the three hovering helicopters, emblazoned with the Coat of Arms of the Fuerza Aérea del Perú.
“November 2115, good to hear your voice. We lost your transponder, are you on the ground?”
“Roger, tower, I don’t think we’ll be flying this thing back anytime soon. The help you sent is here, we’ll see if we can reach them on the radio and hitch a ride home. Do you have a frequency for me?”
Jesse contacted the hovering military craft, one of which landed in a small clearing near the damaged Sikorsky. As he watched it land, he felt a large, strong hand land on his shoulder. Jesse turned to see Tom’s grinning face.
“Nice job Jesse.”
“Thanks Tom.”
Chapter thirty-seven
Upon arriving at the airport, Randall and company were greeted by armed military personnel. Word of the strange occurrences at Misti had reached the upper levels of government, and the Peruvian army had been sent to speak to the Americans who were plucked from the side of the volcano only moments before the eruption. Along with the military contingency were several emergency medical personnel waiting to take George to the hospital and to treat the others for their various injuries.
“Where are you taking him?” Sam demanded.
“Your friend will be taken to Clinica Arequipa for treatment of his wounds,” the soldier in charge responded.
“I would like to go with him,” Sam said.
“That will not be possible. All of you, this way,” the soldier responded.
Sam looked over his shoulder at George as he was loaded onto the stretcher. He seemed out of it, the result of the pain medication.
“George, don’t worry, we’ll get over to see you as soon as we can,” Sam said.
George raised his head slightly and cocked it to one side as if trying to catch her voice in his ear. Then he slumped back into the stretcher, disappearing through the sliding doors.
Sam, Phil and Randall slowly walked down the long corridor, flanked on all sides by armed and serious young men with short-cropped hair and large black weapons.
“Dr. R, I’m not so sure if I want to go on your next field assignment,” Phil said, eliciting a smile from Randall.
“It’s good to see you smile, Dad,” Sam said, squeezing his hand.
“We’ll be okay, Sweetheart.”
They sat in the gray, non-descript room for close to an hour, the door guarded on the outside by the same soldiers who had escorted them in. Finally, the door swung in on its squeaky hinges, and a distinguished looking man with tinges of gray in his hair entered. He was tall and thin with a chiseled, worn face and he carried himself with an air of importance.
“I am Colonel Fernando Acarapi of the Ministerio de Defensa. I have some questions for you.”
One by one, the Colonel questioned them, taking them separately into a smaller interrogation room. Their stories all matched, and upon returning them to the larger room, the Colonel left them once again, instructing the guards not to let them out of the room until he returned. Alone in the room, Sam looked at her father, who was standing off to the side, deep in thought. She recognized the look as the one her father wore whenever a difficult problem arose that required intense concentration on his part. Puzzled, she walked over to him.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
“Hey kiddo, just thinking about things.”
“Like what?”
“We’ve all told Colonel Acarapi the same th
ing, but we left out the part about Vilcabamba. I think he bought it, largely because most of what we’ve said is true.”
“But?”
“But the part of the story that he might be able to punch holes in is the part that involves George. I’m sure they’re trying to reach Francisco, and he’s not going to know anything about him. I should have thought about that before I told Tom that Francisco knows him. If I just had some way to contact him before they do, I’d feel a lot better about our chances of getting out of here instead of facing more interrogations with government officials.”
The door to the interrogation room swung open once again and Colonel Acarapi strode in with a serious look on his face. Randall’s heart immediately sank.
“Dr. Randall, I have news for you. I spoke with your friend Dr. Andrade at the University, a very friendly man, I must say. He confirmed that you and your friends were conducting fieldwork in the area as you explained. He also said that they lost contact with you many days ago and that he was very worried about you and asked me to tell you that he is very happy that you are alive.”
Randall nodded, waiting breathlessly for the rest of the news.
“I also asked Dr. Andrade about your friend, Mr. Walker.” Acarapi turned to look at Sam and then back again at Randall. “He spoke very highly of Mr. Walker and his experience working with him. He asked how Mr. Walker was doing and was concerned for his well-being as well. I explained to him that Mr. Walker’s injuries were not serious and that he is out of surgery. The doctors expect a full recovery in several weeks.”
Randall exhaled slowly and felt a great weight lifted from his shoulders. Somehow Francisco had pulled it off.
“We’re making preparations to take you all back to the University. You must be exhausted and happy to have this ordeal behind you.”
“We are, Colonel, and I appreciate you arranging transportation for us,” Randall said, rubbing his tired eyes.
“Dr. Randall, you mentioned that this Dumond fellow was in charge of this facility you stumbled upon. You mentioned that he was French. Is that correct?”
The Vilcabamba Prophecy: A Nick Randall Novel Page 24