THE PRICE SHE'LL PAY: For the secret she never knew she had...

by Cara Charles

  “I agree,” Janitor using his Blackberry called an outside team member. “White Ferrari, dealer plates, coming your way. Vega just left the school. We’re following in two white Ford pass vans, probably going to the private terminal. Have Olav push out and pre-flight our two BBJs now. Number one will be full passenger capacity, going back to the States. I want number two topped off. Four passengers. We’ll all be there in ten minutes. Out.”

  Kenny asked, “Why don’t we let him go, to finish his job? Like he says, sir?”

  “We are, Kenny. We promised we’d take Shanti home, ending the mission when she gets home, not before. One more thing son, one should stay committed to their decision, but flexible in their approach. I’ve got to be sure. Iain? Take over. Either way Kenny, justice will be served. Take care of her. See you stateside,” Sid said.

  FIFTEEN MINUTES AFTER METAPHOR LEFT, Dr. Titus and Dr. Wise had finished checking all the sleeping scientists and their rooms for devices and deleted all their hard drives, histories, and emails, phones, and the storage. They hoped they’d contained Shanti’s existence for good.

  They walked into the lab. As planned the computers were smoking, hard drives destroyed. Janitor had set the timer, when he left.

  Dr. Wise and Dr. Titus searched the lab refrigerators, the tube racks, and the centrifuges. Empty. Both sighed, relieved. They went into the kitchen.

  Dr. Titus found an unopened bottle of Champagne, popped the cork, poured the bubbly into glasses, and raised his glass to toast.

  “Well done, son. I’ve never been prouder.”

  “No, father. It is you, I’m proudest of. You are the genius. I never could have come up with this miraculous “zeroing out” drug.

  “Dear continued my research, then I continued hers. It’s perfected to heights I never dreamed. Let’s properly thank her. Shall we?”

  From his pocket, Dr. Titus produced two small packets of the pink crystals used on top of the desserts. He emptied each packet into their bubbly wine, raised their glasses to each other, downed the bubbly, threw the glasses into the trash and left the room arm in arm.

  DIMITRI DROVE LIKE A MADMAN. He keyed his phone. Mavra was crying beside him, in great pain.

  “Take your pills, love. Push out Ms. Kimirov’s jet. She’s in pain from her surgery.”

  “From that fucking bitch, you mean!” Mavra choked, her nose full of clots.

  D was on his cell. “Quiet now, Princessa or else you’ll disturb the clot and hemorrhage. What scheduled maintenance? No plane available? Cabron! You’re kidding? Find us a plane now, amigo. We’ll be there in less than ten minutes. I don’t care about your problems! Bump somebody,” He disconnected.

  Mavra cried for nine miles while her drugs kicked.

  Dimitri patted her hand, lifted her chin, petted her hair, or else she’d scream. By the time they were near Flughaten she was nearly out. He looked in the rearview mirror, the road was empty behind him. He had disabled their vans parked by the church, but he knew, they always had a back-up plan.

  DIMITRI’S ID gave him entrance into the private terminal’s parking area. Dimitri drove right up to the terminal, woke Mavra, but she rolled away from him. He pulled her to her feet on the passenger side. She sleepwalked inside to the desk, Dimitri supporting her.

  “My God, she is a mess. Unfortunately, the prince won’t relinquish his plane, Mr. Vega. He’s due in Dubai in five hours for an OPEC meeting. She needs a hospital.”

  A maintenance attendant was entering from the tarmac.

  He punched the code for the door and entered.

  The phone rang and the maintenance man didn’t move to answer it.

  “Yes. I see. Well, you tried. Thank you. We’ll just be at this number.”

  Dimitri left a business card, adjusting his arm around Mavra who rested on his shoulder.

  “You will explain to Ms. Kimirov for me, please? Rupert, the phone!”

  Dimitri turned Mavra toward the door, “of course. She’ll understand.”

  The impatient concierge took the phone away from the lowly grease monkey, “Hello? Executive Jet. Hello? Hello?”

  While they were preoccupied, Dimitri keyed in the security code, the door to the tarmac opened and he carried Mavra on his shoulder toward the empty hangers.

  All empty, except for three. Two were getting prepped for a push-out. One was further along far out on the tarmac, the Prince’s Dubai jet.

  There was Mavra’s jet with her maintenance crew, working on the engines.

  The fuel truck was returning from down the ramp.

  The Prince’s BBJ had been pushed out and re-fueled. A stretch limo pulled up. The Prince had arrived. Here came the Prince’s security.

  The concierge on the tarmac saw D with Mavra hoofing it to the BBJ.

  “Halt! You! Halt!” Security fired on him.

  Dimitri rolled Mavra off his shoulder, as he returned fire with a silenced gun, hitting the man in the leg. He picked Mavra up and ran toward the fuel truck.

  From somewhere unexpected, the Prince’s security fired on him, too.

  Dimitri pointed behind them, waved them down onto their bellies. A fuel truck was parked just behind them. They got it. They stopped firing.

  Back near the FBO, the crew vans had arrived.

  Dimitri ran at the fuel truck, waving the driver out of the truck with his gun.

  METAPHOR ground team had arrived and was firing on the Prince’s security.

  Dimitri heaved a floppy, uncooperative Mavra into the idling fuel truck. D drove it to the far end of the tarmac to the Prince’s brand new customized $80 million BBJ.

  The young co-pilot was doing his walk around with an i-Pod on, hadn’t heard any of the gunfire.

  D readjusted Mavra on his shoulder and pulled the both of them up the entrance ladder, threw her into the co-pilot seat. She thought it was funny. She tried to get up and he pushed her back down.

  “Want to be arrested? You spoiled bitch! Stay in that damn seat, hear me!”

  “Oh hero. Relax. Get us some bubbly,” She popped two more pain pills.

  He strapped her tight in the co-pilot’s seat, climbed into the pilot seat, flipping the turbines on.

  Mavra started laughing, trying to get up out of her seat.

  The co-pilot saw the turbines turning, he ran out from behind the right engine.

  Dimitri engaged the throttles one he saw the co-pilot was out from under the plane. The plane moved forward away from the tie down blocks.

  Dave and Mac tried to block BBJ jet 7572Y with the fuel truck. Dave turned the wheel away in time.

  Dimitri saluted them as he blew by them.

  Sid and Janitor in the full METAPHOR BBJ with Shanti and Joseph, the rest of METAPHOR waited on another BBJ to be fueled, ordered to fly home.

  Elise and Sam waved, tears in their eyes.

  Shanti and Joseph were at their windows, crying.

  Janitor took the controls, taking their BBJ onto the runway. Sid contacted the tower.

  “Tower this is the BBJ 5550X and this is an emergency request. Patch me through to BBJ 7572Y on final in front of us. Now. Please.”

  “Yes sir. BBJ 5550X. Patch open. We’ve been hailing 7572Y but to no avail. Maybe you’ll have some luck. Go ahead. BBJ 7572Y on final. You’re being hailed by BBJ 5550X behind you. Try not to kill anyone.”

  “Sid here. Dimitri abort, son. We’ve got this. Let the courts administer the justice. There’s so much overwhelming evidence…”

  D laughed at the irony and interrupted, “I love you Old Man. You always were a romantic but I’ll see to it justice is served, otherwise we run the risk she’ll buy off every judge and jury that hears the case. You know she can. It’s a far better thing I do…”

  A commercial airliner had been given clearance for take off and was positioned on the runway and began rolling down the runway toward D. A serious game of chicken was on. The plane was traveling fast certain D would pull off. He didn’t. D’s BBJ was building to take off.


  The pilots of the liner stood on the brakes, prepped the passengers for a crash landing, pulled off the runway too quickly, the nose wheel collapsing into the grass as Dimitri saluted them as his BBJ barreled by them, rotating into the air, turning out of the pattern.

  Janitor looked at Sid and shook his head as their big BBJ rolled onto the jet way far enough away from D not to get in his jet wash. Sid was about in tears and watched D rotate off into the thick gray sky as he and Janitor turned them onto the runway, as D continued...

  “…It’s a far far better rest I go to than I’ve ever known. I’ll make it right. You know you can count on me when the chips are down, when we’re out of water and bulletas, when the enemy re-enforcements are just over the hill, you can always count on me, right Patron?”

  “Always D. Always. I just don’t want to lose you, D.”

  “You always had me, sir. That’s why I’m doing my duty to you and who you are. I’m doing my duty to Shanti’s Honor, to the METAPHOR Corps, to the Mission of the ideal we try to preserve. Allow me the chance to restore my self-respect. All I ask is… please. Let me go out a winner.”

  “Then I salute you, Dimitri Vega.”

  There was a bit of silence. Dimitri was choked with emotion. He came back on.

  “This is my final chance to save your asses. My love to you and the wife. Make an honest woman out of her, por favor. She’s devoted to you. Think of me fondly once in a while? I’m honored to return the salute sir. I salute you all. Vaya con Dios.”

  Dimitri turned off the radio and turned south out of Zurich departure pattern as the air controllers scrambled to get planes out of his way.

  Janitor took over the radio. “Help us follow tower. No need to scramble. He’s just going to put it in the water somewhere. Keep the patch open. Thanks. BBJ 5550X…”

  “Roger the patch 5550X to BBJ 7572Y. He just filed for Dubai if that helps. No water there 5550X.”

  “Helps immensely. Roger that and thanks. File us for Dubai, Mate,” Janitor turned to Sid to engage him.

  Sid was taking it badly. Sid threw his headset down in his lap, and hung his head, “God damn it!”

  “He wants a noble death. You have to be proud of that,” Janitor said.

  Sid nodded. Dimitri was doing the right thing. Sid was proud. Damn proud.

  They were cleared for take off and flew on to Dubai, four hours and forty minutes away.

  FIVE HOURS LATER, Dimitri landed and rotated right back up into the pattern, turning south.

  Sid followed. Janitor got on the radio. “Sorry tower. BBJ 5550X following BBJ 7572Y. Urgent business with him. Did he file?”

  “You two are reckless and crazy 5550X. We will have the authorities waiting for 7572Y at Mahe’ in the Seychelles, his destination. Be careful both of you. Clear in the pattern, BBJ 5550X.”

  Janitor checked the fuel. They’d have just enough.

  Seychelles. In five hours.

  DIMITRI THOUGHT he’d discouraged the Old Man but he should have known better. Sid Allen never gives up. He looked over at Mavra, mercifully sleeping heavily. He didn’t want a corpse next to him. He didn’t look at her again. It was becoming painful.

  “WHAT’S HE UP TO?” Sid looked at Janitor.

  “He’s always been creative and resourceful. We both have fuel to get to Mahe’. After that he’s on his own. We can’t chase him around the world to get him to come to his senses, can we?”

  “No. Thanks for indulging me this far, Jan.”

  “I’m in this with you. It’s hard on me, as well. It’s up to him. Always has been.”

  Sid nodded. He looked out the window at the vastness of the African continent, where man began. Right now Sid wished he were one of the nomads in the camel trains he’d seen, far away from this pain and he thought of Shanti.

  Shanti and Joseph were looking out the windows. Shanti smiled seeing home, tears streaming down her face. Joseph grabbed her hand and they smiled at each other.

  They flew for hours in silence, Joseph watching the emotions and memories play across her face, marveling at her composure and loving her all the more.

  BEFORE SID TOOK over command for his final leg, he called the hospital. Desiree was sleeping. He’d forgotten the time. He left a message with the nurse’s desk. They both looked at the fuel gauge, knowing they’d have to stay on the ground once in Mahe’.

  Janitor closed his eyes coming to terms with what that was going to mean, ‘Mahe’. End of the line. ‘

  D SAW them off his left wing back about a mile.

  ‘The Old Man wanted him back in the fold.’ D wanted in, but he had a problem. No one else could suffer because of her. ‘Well, that wasn’t quite true. He’d suffer. But that was the price he had to pay for losing his soul and the loss of life he knew she was causing, driven merely by revenge and greed. The creed of most billionaires. No drama, no theatrics, just a quiet end.’

  AN ONE HOUR LATER, the radio woke Janitor up.

  “Alright, Old Man. You’ve got your wish. I’ll hand her over to you in Mahe’. Besides, it’s Friday night…”

  “Good, D! It’s the best thing to do. Please don’t burden yourself with her justice.”

  Dimitri didn’t respond.

  Sid knew he’d reached D. But one thing gnawed at Sid…. ‘it’s Friday night…’

  AN HOUR LATER, they were on final. “Mahe’ tower this is BBJ 5550X on final. Five miles. Pattern clear?”

  “Roger that 5550X, pattern is clear. Continue on final to land on One Right.

  “Another BBJ in the pattern, one point five miles. Also on final. Be aware. Re-fueling or tying down?”

  “Roger that. One right. Four miles out.”

  “Mahe’ tower? This is the BBJ 7572Y again. What’s the plan for the BBJ in front of us?”

  “5550X is clear to land. No fuel order so far.”

  “We’ll need re-fueling and a tie-down or hanger,” Janitor said to the tower.

  “Roger that. Continue on your approach, land on One Left as soon as 5550X taxis to the jet way. Truck will meet you at the terminal.”

  “Roger that. 7572Y. One left.”

  D landed, he brought the speed down. He saw the Old Man land on One Left. He’d closed the gap, purposefully.

  D over rode the computer, pushed the throttles forward and increased speed to the end of the runway. He lifted off at the last possible moment. He knew Sid couldn’t follow.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN — BEYOND THE BLUE HORIZON

  Dimitri was airborne again, clawing his way to altitude. He was out of fuel and the engines choked. He pushed the nose down and within seconds, he’d pancaked onto the crystal clear water that rushed up to meet him. The plane porpoised and slid along the water for a while like a huge slip and slide. He’d opened the cockpit windows so the water would come in. The sirens… were heartbreaking.

  SID TAXIED his plane to the end of the runway. They used the emergency shoot to exit, running toward D’s jet. Janitor was trying to hold Sid back. Sid broke free. Janitor ran after him. They both dove into the water.

  D HAD to change his plan. The fuel had run out before he was ready. The Old Man just wouldn’t give it up. As the plane slid along the water, D got out of his seat, opened the passenger door, the chute deployed. He lifted Mavra out of her seat and carried her still sleeping, to the open door.

  Together they jumped onto the slide and hit the water hard. D wrapped his legs around her. But the impact of the water separated them. D swam toward where he last saw her, then dove for her, not knowing where she was.

  She was struggling for the surface.

  He found her immediately, grabbed her by the legs and pulled her down, wrapped his legs tightly around her. D swam down with her fighting him all the way, and held her there.

  She stopped fighting. She looked him in the eye. Disbelief flowed out of her. She’d figured him out.

  He shook his head no.

  Mavra tried to get away. Her air gone. D held on. He tightened his grip. M
avra pleaded searching his eyes for his reasons.

  D shook his head, no. He kissed her. She kicked and clawed him. She gripped his neck with both hands. She found the C-3 nerve bundle on his neck and pressed hard, her training kicking in, knowing his arms and his diaphragm would be paralyzed completely if she was successful. D broke her grasp too late.

  He put her in a chokehold for a few brief seconds as his arms went dead. He felt her carotid. It was pounding. He pushed her down between his legs and pressed on her C-3 nerve bundle with his knees too, knowing her diaphragm would not be able to function if she should get away from him. He felt pain in his shoulders and chest but he held on to her with his legs. He held the pressure. His arms were useless.

  Soon the fight was out of her.

  His lungs were bursting as she went limp.

  They’d disarmed each other.

  CHAPTER TWENTY — ONE LAST KISS, BEFORE I GO

  D FORCED THE AIR OUT of his lungs, holding on to her with his knees, as Mavra’s copper hair reached to caress his face.

  ‘It is beautiful down here,’ he thought, distracting himself from the pain and the regret of what he was doing… as they slowly sank toward the ocean floor.

  D closed his eyes.

  HE WAS BACK with his corps brothers in their final class, their special ops training over, their eyes bright, their heads full, and their bodies ready. They’d become a unit of brothers.

  Colonel Sid Allen… their beloved C.O. was smiling proudly at his six operational detachment alpha proteges from the front of their classroom. They’d graduated from their intense mental and physical training.

  Colonel Torsen stood waiting for them.

  “One last thing before we go on our first special mission…”

  Their eyes were riveted on Colonel Sid Allen, their own personal hero. He approached Carlos. He roughly grabbed him by the shoulders.

  “Keep your soul… Carlos,” he said looking into this young soldier’s eyes.

  One by one… he personally implored them…

  “Keep your soul…Kate.”

  “Keep your soul…Kenny.”

  “Keep your soul… Iain.”

  “Keep your soul… Trevor.”