by Cara Charles
The autopilot was on. Altimeter was decelerating into the minus. She was at 5500 feet and dropping at a rapid rate.
She disengaged the autopilot and slowed the plane down and leveled it out. She engaged the autopilot again and went back to try and close the rear door. The wind tried to suck her out.
The plane was descending again. The autopilot had taken over again, re-engaging to its former course, the water. She ran back to the cockpit.
She went to grab the headsets to send out a Mayday on the radio, but the headsets were gone. The cockpit door closed due to the angle of descent, and it latched. She sat in the pilot’s seat, and worked on disengaging the autopilot to belly in. She tried everything. Suddenly the plane was doing it for her.
‘Jesus. Who ever thought of this was pure genius.’
The terrain warning off, the plane leveled out as if landing.
She hit the flat, clear blue water nicely, skimming it, a perfect hydroplaning. The windshield held. The plane skidded to a stop. She’d survived!
“Yahoo! Thank you Lady Luck! I adore you! Dimitri darling you would so be laughing your beautiful ass off right now.”
She went to open the cockpit door. It was locked. Locked! She was locked in.
“You bitch!! You fucking bitch!”
Mavra screamed and pounded on the door. She pulled it, kicked it. She knew she only had minutes before the water came into the open rear fuselage door. She maintained her cool, looked around the cabin. She looked in the cabinet behind the co-pilot seat.
There was an envelope addressed to her. ‘Oh, Mavra…’
Mavra screamed in rage, “No fucking way!”
“Paybacks are a bitch.”
Sincerely,
Elise Larsen Andersen, Esq., Attorney At Law
Representing the interests of Tom, Lara and Boogie Andersen,
Amanda Rose Johnson, and Joseph Roosevelt Jefferson
Shanti Larsen
and
Save the World Foundation.
A copy of her signed ‘will and testament’ dated yesterday make her catch her breath.
Beneficiaries were a 501-C3, Save the World Foundation, Friday Harbor, Washington.
Mavra was stunned. Panic immediately trumped her surprise.
The plane was sinking. She dropped the letter and papers on the floor, as her hands flew out, bracing herself on the walls of the cockpit. She tried again and again to open the door. After trying to open the door, nothing was working for her. She felt the nose dip. The plane was going down in the crystal clear water.
She sat down in the pilot’s seat. Something caught her eye as the bottom rushed up to her.
Mavra Kimirov looked in amazement at the bottom of the ocean floor and burst out laughing and crying.
Coming up toward her was the tail section of her parents’ Boeing Business Jet.
She recognized the tail number. Another hundred yards away she could just make out part of the fuselage in the settling sediment in the crystal clear water.
It was a rather pleasant ride to the bottom, a bit like an amusement park’s underwater ride, complete with sea life and interesting wrecks, the steel skin of her airplane, groaned through the water. There’d be no getting off this ride.
The sleek steel porpoise settled nose first into the sand, kicking up lots of snowy white silt. The steel porpoise slid within 25 feet of the tail section.
As the plane slid into its final resting place, the impact of the whole plane settling, stirred up an avalanche of silt. Mavra was surround by it.
Suddenly solid colored objects floated up from their ocean bottom resting place.
Pieces of pink leather luggage. She was hypnotized by it, leather tops in different sizes, spinning in its own newly made current, inched toward her until...
Mavra screamed.
Something round and white came up from below the windows.
It tumbled closer until she could see it.
A human skull swam around the co-pilot’s window, with a crab still tearing at what was left of the flesh in the eye socket.
Mavra screamed again.
A second skull popped up right in front of her from below. Mandible still attached and mouth wide in surprised laughter.
Another skull floated slowly up from below, right next to her pilot’s window.
“Hello, Mother,” Mavra said to the skull bobbing outside the pilot’s window, looking inside the cockpit.
There was a shadow and the muffled ‘thump, thump, thump,’ of the rotator blades of a hovering helicopter above her, close to the surface of the water, watching, waiting.
Mavra looked up.
But she knew it had not come to rescue her.
She was dead, either way. Her luck had just run out.
Suddenly, Mavra heard music. Rock and roll. Dire Straits. “The Sultans of Swing?”
The Kimirovs were finally starting their vacation together, in the balmy waters of the tropical paradise of the Seychelles.
“You win,” Mavra said, as she stared into her mother’s face, as Paradise was forcing itself upon her.
The tropical waters slowly seeped into the cockpit, around the gaskets and through the hinges on the cockpit door, and bathed Mavra’s feet. The spray was like a warm rain shower. Mavra tasted the spray as it hit her face. She kept an eye on Mother.
Mother was still watching.
Mother had gotten the last word.
She always did.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR -- A WHOLE NEW YEAR
“LET’S GO FOR A DRIVE, EL. I’ve got an errand to run for a friend,” Dez said.
Elise, the light in her eyes brighter every day still had battle fatigue. The boys had gone back to their mountain. She missed Dave. She missed Deedee. She remembered he hadn’t wanted to end their embrace. He looked so sad she thought. Tears were welling up in his eyes when he and Deedee turned away and stepped aboard the Metaphor jet, taking them all back to Mammoth.
Iain, Mac and Dave needed some down time too. But they spoke or texted at least once a day.
Dave knew she needed some real quiet time now, or else she too would develop PTSD. He was a comforting friend that had come to know her well in the three weeks they’d spent together.
Sam had gone back with them, home to settle things and would be back soon.
All was at peace with her world. Elise could finally exhale. Shanti and her secret were safe hopefully, forever.
Elise was in a quiet zone. She and Buddy obediently got into the car. Buddy licked Elise’s face getting her to giggle.
Desiree felt the release of the burden herself, for now.
Buddy was jumping in his seat as they drove out to the West Side of San Juan Island about twenty minutes from town. Instead of stopping at their usual lookout where they’d watch the boats and ships in Haro Strait bound for Vancouver Island and beyond, Dez drove past their spot and turned right, up the steep Mount Dallas Road.
“We’ll check on things for a friend who’s traveling, and be on our way. You’ll love this place.”
Elise smiled. Buddy was wagging his tail. She put her head on the headrest, closed her eyes, and sighed. They drove far up the steep road.
Finally, Dez pulled into a driveway with a heavy, solid, electric gate and code box. Dez punched in the code.
Buddy barked, waking Elise up.
Dez looked at a relaxed Elise, busy admiring the beautiful miniature pine entrance garden.
Dez drove into the long drive, and parked.
Buddy ran up to the front door and barked.
The Northwest chalet style house was massive with a big pond and a separate teahouse, still had its Christmas decorations up. Beyond, was the westerly water view of Haro Strait and Vancouver Island.
Dez watched Elise. She was drawn to the perfect Japanese teahouse encased in floor to ceiling glass walls to protect the authentic Shoji screens and long wooden walkways. The Japanese gardens that surrounded the teahouse were perfectly balanced. The teahouse reflected
seamlessly into the glassy pond, where wintering wood ducks had found refuse. A delicate wind chime welcomed them. The black pines scented the air.
“Beautiful! Looks like a painting,” Elise smiled, appreciating the elegant, restorative beauty before her, not wanting to leave to go in.
Desiree waited, not wanting to rush her.
Elise was more tired than she let on.
Dez waited for the questions, but none came.
Elise headed for the front door where Dez and Buddy waited.
“Come darling. Wait until you see the view from inside. We’ll just be a minute.”
Elise obediently followed Desiree. They walked up a flight of entrance stairs and into the large foyer where a stunning Christmas tree sparkled so magically, she gasped. She was immediately drawn to the 180-degree panoramic view of Haro Strait. She walked over to it and looked up and down the coast. It was a remarkably crystal clear day, unusual for this time for year. There was a cruise ship headed for Vancouver. There was something hypnotic about watching boats and ships glide along in the water. She’d found herself again in those waters.
She planned to kayak the Strait again and say hello to the Orcas in the summer.
Dez knew Elise’s mind needed peace. Dez left the room, allowing her to enjoy the view and the Christmas tree. The ornaments were amazing, but she didn’t want to remember. A ship drew her back outside and away from old memories.
Elise stood transfixed by the ship passing, watching the bow cut the water, remembering the sound. The sunlight was a real gift. It sparkled on the water. In May, the resident Orcas would come home. She’d ask to come back to see them arrive. Remembering her family now was a joy, she had managed to keep their loss and her loneliness contained. She let out a long sigh.
She could feel the sting of tears rising, but she inhaled and they ebbed away.
Something brought her back. The energy in the room had changed. She turned.
He stood there smiling at her, tears silently rolling down his face. He waited.
He watched her. It wasn’t fear he was seeing in her eyes. It was shock. Her eyes were registering. He prayed. His chest was bursting with tension.
Her eyes began to smile, but a cloud of disbelief crossed them, but it was becoming clear for her.
Only now as she brightened, he felt he could approach her, one slow step at a time. His tension was ebbing.
She wasn’t breathing. She didn’t quite believe what she was seeing.
He let her decide to close the space between them.
Her pounding heart was drowning out her breathing. She felt flushed. Was this a dream?
Behind him, Desiree and Sam appeared and Sam smiled.
Elise saw them. They were crying and holding onto each other. Sam nodded, encouragingly.
“Daddy?”
She didn’t remember crossing the room to him. It felt like she flew.
He embraced her hard, kissed her face, her tears, and she kissed his tears. They broke down, sobbing. He was still so tall, though thinner and white haired.
That was his cheek she was kissing. That cheek she’d missed her entire life.
“My brave and brilliant daughter. Please say, someday you’ll forgive me?” Charles asked.
She was home in his embrace. It was a miracle he was still alive.
Elise had time to tell him how proud she was to be part of keeping the greatest secret of modern history.
The desire to protect them both had kept Charles alive all this time. He had relied on her and Desiree’s dedication to the human mind to preserve Shanti’s secret until she could go back home and into the world of humans and disappear again.
Elise had relied on her father to make the right choice in choosing the proper use for her abilities. Mission accomplished.
“Oh, Daddy. There’s nothing to forgive.”
Elise’s father, ninety-nine year old Charles Larsen, keeper of the secret, broke down and sobbed. Now it was Elise’s turn to comfort him. Elise looked up.
Shanti was standing with Desiree. Sam, Sid, Kenny and Janitor, Mac, Iain and Dave and Joseph, Eamon and John, were all crying. Deedee and Buddy crossed the room to them, wagging their tails.
Elise motioned Shanti over.
Shanti shook her head, but smiled at the beautiful reunion and celebrated with her own tears of joy.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE -- PURE GENIUS
LYLE HEARD Gounod’s “Funeral March of a Marionette,” the Hitchcock Presents TV show theme song from his garden. He ran to the house and down to his basement.
There on the monitors was a face! A face! Rear Window had gotten a hit! She was young and beautiful. The photo was from a recent student visa ID.
“Oh my God. They aren’t going to believe it. I don’t believe it.” He texted Dear.
‘GO TO IM NOW. M4PAIL!!’
Desiree panicked. She IM’d Lyle, “Lyle? What now?”
On Lyle’s IM he wrote, ‘Got a hit from Bole International Airport in Addis Ababa. A newly registered GWU Ethiopian exchange student just entered the system with a non-immigrant C-1 DS-160 student visa from the Addis Ababa US Embassy on Entoto Street. I confirmed the barcode. A freshman! Can you believe it?’
‘Boy? Girl?’
‘A girl! Oh MY GOD, DEAR! Oh My God, a perfect girl. Can you believe it?’ That’s the best part. That’s why I’m so damn excited! Her name is Sela Abay, like the river in Ethiopia, where Shanti is from. We should call Shanti now!’
Tears came to Desiree’s eyes. Afraid, but excited at the prospect.
‘Now Lyle. Breathe! I know you’re my genius. I’m excited too, but Shanti is in class. We’ll leave her a message. I’ll have Trevor and Joseph meet Sela at Dulles.’
‘Sela has a lay over in Rome. She’ll be on Ethiopian Airlines and she’ll land at Dulles in nine hours. It’s a fourteen-hour flight, total. Please, Dear. I want to talk to Shanti, explain everything, please?’
‘Of course, I’ll call her office and tell her to call you. You’ve earned it. You’re sure?’
‘In person, Dear. Please! Yes I’m sure! Positive! Thanks Dear. It would be such a pleasure to be the one to break this news. Sending photo to you now. Can you arrange the plane for me?’
‘Yes of course. Leaving her message now. Exciting day my man!! Dear, Out.’
When the encrypted photo arrived, Desiree typed the code ‘HITCH’ to restore it. Desiree inhaled. Lyle had performed another miracle.
Desiree called Shanti’s office and her secretary took down the message:
“Shanti please call this number 415 555-3233. Important message for you. Dear.”
Desiree called Trevor, then texted Joseph. They were beside themselves with excitement.
Sixteen year old, Sela Abay had visited the village of her birth two days ago. Every forty years she had visited at this time of year, so no one would remember her. But… this time for the first time they were noticing her and whispering and she was terrified, but not scared enough to run.
A little girl of ten, approached Sela with flowers saying, “Take these to your very kind, beautiful mother. Tell her Tegena sent them. We all miss her and your grandfather.”
“My mother?” Sela said, smiling at the irony. Her sister’s name alive in this girl.
“Yes! Professor Larsen of George Washington University, America,” she said.
Sela laughed. She started laughing hysterically, her hand over her mouth.
More women gathered, smiling. They spoke of a beautiful African American professor. The professor, she’d known the old language too, they said. Brought a grandfather with her they said, they’d installed a new water system, gave the village mosquito nets, vitamins, antibiotics, goats, drums too.
“Drums, really?”
“She’d promised to return in May.”
No one had a photo. Her name Shanti was not familiar to Sela, but Sela was going to follow a hunch and thanked them for their kindness, promising to return.
Sela hitched rides t
o Addis Ababa and went right into the U.S. Embassy on Entoto Street. She showed them her papers, her acceptance letter and picked up her student visa to the States, because she had gotten accepted to an American University months earlier and had been on the Vetted acceptance list for two years.
Eighteen hours later, Sela easily got through security and was on a plane to the Capitol of the Free World. First to Rome then on to Washington D.C.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX — HELLO
LEONARDO DI VINCI INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT
AS SELA GOT OFF THE PLANE in Rome, to make her connecting flight, she noticed a big, strange looking man with a big smile, holding a sign with her name on it, waiting at the gate.
In his breast pocket, he had a photograph to show her.
AT ANOTHER ETHIOPIAN AIR gate around the corner, Desiree’s Italian METAPHOR team of four men were waiting. The plane they had waited on had emptied out.
The senior team member approached the gate agent, “Is this the flight from Addis Ababa?” Lee Chu, recently deceased CIA field chief, said.
“No, sir. That gate was changed at the last minute. It arrived six minutes ago. Gate 12A.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN — LEONARDO DI VINCI AIRPORT, ROME
“WHY DIDN’T YOU CHANGE the damn board?” Lee Chu shouted, so angry his temples hurt.
“That’s strange. I was sure it was corrected…”
“Which way is the gate, damn it?” Lee shouted.
“Five gates that way around the corner, 12A. Sorry for the inconvenience.”
Half the team ran to Gate 12A. Lee and his aide stayed.
“This is bad. Is this the gate to the connecting flight to Dulles?”
“Yes sir, it is. Boarding in thirty minutes.”
They both sat to wait.
Lee texted Dez. ‘Missed her. Gates incorrect. Team looking for her. We’re at connecting flight.’
Desiree panicked. ‘Lock down the airport. Someone has her.’
Lee pulled a gun on the agent. She hit the panic button.
Sirens erupted, all gate doors in the airport locked.
The tower grounded all flights.
Once again, METAPHOR was too late.