Richard laughed again. “I wish I’d seen that.”
Oscar tried to roll over onto his side, but apparently, it caused too much pain, because he rolled back over onto his back.
“Oscar, we have to get you to a hospital,” said Richard. He was getting really worried about Oscar’s condition.
“Don’t you dare give up anything meaningful to these bastards!” Oscar’s tone was vehement.
“Okay, Oscar. Okay.”
Oscar took a deep breath, then continued. “Anyway, that seemed to give the intruders pause, because those that could, retreated back out the window. I guess I might have tried to escape then, but I couldn’t pull myself away from the computer screen. I just had to see it play out, you know?
“The next thing that happened was some guy came in the room, all padded up - I don’t know, maybe it was one of those bomb disposal suits? Anyway, he was carrying a shotgun and shot up everything that moved. First the helicopters, then the lasers. After putting some large holes in the walls and floors doing that, the padded guy motioned for the others to come into the room behind him. Nothing happened so they got a little bolder. They eventually got to the basement door and started down the steps, the padded guy in the lead. He got about a quarter of the way down the stairs and a solenoid pulled a lever that rotated the steps into a flat ramp. A steep one at that.” Oscar started to chuckle, gasped, took a deep breath, then continued.
“Oscar, just take it easy. Okay?”
“So the padded guy flies down the ramp and hits the wall at the bottom - hard. That took him out. I think it probably dislocated his shoulder when he hit the wall. The guy behind him grabs at the railing to keep from falling and gets a good electric shock. I’d electrified the railing, you see.” Despite the fact Oscar must have known it would hurt, he tried to chuckle. “He let go and plummeted down the ramp and fell on top of the padded guy. That was pretty much the end of the show. After that, the intruders came down the ramp, wearing gloves.” Oscar paused and turned his head to look at Richard. “You know, I should have put tracers on us so we could be found. I guess I never really thought we’d be caught.”
“Oscar, even if the others knew where we were, what could they do? Take on all these guys?”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He grunted and tried to find a more comfortable position. “It wasn’t long after that and the guy in the doo-rag –”
“His name is Martin,” said Richard.
“His name is Asshole.” Oscar changed position again, groaning and wincing. “Anyway, he arrived and started working out his frustrations on me.” Oscar closed his eyes. “It was quite a show. I loved it.” He became quiet, his breathing slowed and deepened and, Richard hoped, he fell asleep.
Considering his options, Richard painfully got to his feet and began pacing back and forth across the small room. There was just a small chance here if he could make it work.
. . .
Richard sat cross-legged watching Oscar sleep. Several hours passed before he heard the door lock again. He looked up and saw Doo-rag, Martin, in the doorway.
“How’s your friend?” he said.
“Not well. Are you going to get him to a hospital, or let him die?”
“That depends totally on you. Where’s the pen?”
Richard took a long time to answer as if considering his options. Finally, he sighed. “How do I know, if I give you the pen, you’ll get Oscar to a hospital?”
Oscar unexpectedly opened his eyes. “Richard, you don’t give this son of a bitch a thing! You hear? I’d rather die!” He gasped in pain.
“That’s just what’s going to happen if you don’t get to a hospital.”
“I don’t care! Don’t give him what he wants!”
Richard dropped his head. He took a big sigh. “I have to, I can’t let you die.”
“Richard, don’t do it!”
Turning to Doo-rag, Martin, he said. “Get him to a hospital and I’ll give you the pen.”
“Give me the pen and I’ll get him to a hospital.”
“I don’t believe you. If I give you the pen, you’ll no longer have a need to help Oscar.”
“I give you my word.”
“I’m sorry, but that doesn’t have much meaning, coming from a homicidal maniac.”
Doo-rag straightened, apparently offended. “Okay, how do you want to play this?”
Richard paused as if working out what would work, although he had already thought it through pretty thoroughly. “Take Oscar to a hospital. Take along a computer with a camera. On a computer here, let me watch him going into the hospital, into the emergency room and being treated. Once I’m convinced he’ll get the treatment he needs, I’ll give you the pen.”
“And if he gets the treatment he needs, what will keep you from not giving up the pen?”
“If I fail to follow up with my part of the bargain, I’m sure you’ll have no compunction to bring him back here, torture and possibly kill him unless I give up the pen.”
Doo-rag paused, took a deep breath and nodded in assent. “All right. We understand each other. I’ll call the ambulance.” He left, closing and locking the door behind him.
“Richard, you can’t. Don’t do this. Just let it go. I’ll be okay.”
“Don’t worry, Oscar. Everything is going to be fine. I’ve got it all under control.” Sort of, he thought.
Chapter Twenty-One
Emily and Alex walked into the main lobby of Signature Aviation at Hanscom Field. They timed it so they’d be there a few minutes before the two man crew was scheduled to arrive with the Hawker. Dressed in white shirts with epaulets and dark blue ties, they blended in well with what was expected and no special notice was taken of them. Alex walked up to the FBO desk with nonchalance. This was not his first time in such a place. “Hi, how’s it goin’?” he asked the woman behind the desk.
“Hello,” she said. “How can I help you?”
“We’re picking up a Netjet Hawker coming in from Chicago.” Alex looked down at a piece of paper he carried with him. “N45KG is the tail number. Have you heard from them yet?”
The woman looked down at some paperwork of her own. “Yeah. They called in about ten minutes ago. They should be on final by now.”
“Oh, good. We’ll wait here for the crew.” Alex walked into another room that had a computer and started surfing the web for weather information. He knew this would be expected of any pilot about to go flying. This was not the time to start raising eyebrows.
Emily stood beside him and began taking notes as she had been instructed. “Do we really have to take out the crew? Isn’t there another way?” she whispered to Alex.
“We have no time. We need to get their badges and we need to make sure they don’t raise an alarm.”
“I just feel so exposed. I really don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Just do what I told you and follow my lead. Everything will be fine.”
“Can you really fly one of these things?” Emily looked out the large windows at several jets sitting on the tarmac. “They look a lot bigger than that tiny little plane I saw you with when we first met.”
“Fly them?” Alex looked up at the planes with indifference. “Yeah, no problem.” He looked back at the computer screen. “It’s the landing that’s got me worried.” He looked over at Emily whose mouth was somewhat agape. “Just kidding. I have hundreds of hours of flight-time in many different kinds of airplanes. I don’t see a problem.” Not much, anyway.
They heard the whine of jet turbines and smelled burnt kerosene. Looking up, Alex saw a white and orange plane taxi over in front of the FBO. On its tail, he read “N45KG.”
“Here we go!” said Emily.
“Just be patient. It’s going to take the crew a couple of minutes to shut everything down.”
They watched the plane as it stopped. Within a few minutes, the turbine whine decreased in pitch and then stopped completely. “Are there any passengers on board we need to worry about?” a
sked Emily.
“No. The plane is on a deadhead from Chicago to pick up Todd.”
Emily gave him a confused look.
“It’s empty,” said Alex in explanation.
“When is Todd due here?”
Alex glanced at his watch. It was 0805. “In about four hours. We have plenty of time to do what we need to do, get the plane refueled, and get out of here. Now stop worrying.”
Alex moved away from the computer and walked back over to the woman behind the desk. “Did the crew call in for fuel?” he asked her.
“Yes.” She looked through some paperwork, then back up at Alex. “Full fuel in the wings, nothing in the tail. Sound right?”
“Sounds perfect. Can we be ready to go by sixteen hundred Zulu?”
The woman turned her head sideways a little and looked at Alex with a puzzled expression. “Are you replacing the incoming crew?”
“Yep. Last minute schedule change. Don’t have the foggiest why.”
She nodded and looked down at her paperwork again. “We should have you ready to go no later than... fifteen hundred. That okay?”
“Perfect.”
“Are you going to need anything else?”
“Not unless the other guys have something to add.” He hoped they didn’t. They wouldn’t know anything about a pilot change and Alex didn’t want them to talk to the ground crew in case they might find out their unofficial change in itinerary. “You don’t have any messages for us from corporate, do you?”
“Nope. Nothing here.”
A few minutes later, two young men dressed identically to Alex and Emily walked in through the security door from the airplane ramp. They both had lanyards around their necks attached to plastic badges. Alex took a deep breath and rubbed his palms on his pant legs. He and Emily were sitting on comfortably padded couches in the pilot’s lounge, near the door, trying to act as nonchalant as possible. Somehow, they had to get these guys out to the car without rousing any suspicions.
Alex put on his friendliest voice. “Hey, where you guys comin’ from?”
One of the pilots turned and looked at him. “Chicago,” he said.
“We’re supposed to head out to Denver in about six hours,” said Alex. “How’s the weather out west? Anything we should look out for? Any interesting pilot reports?”
“Not between here and Chicago. It’s a nice day the whole way and supposed to stay that way until tomorrow. Couldn’t say west of that, though.”
“Where you goin’ from here?” asked Alex. He hoped he sounded like he was trying to make small talk. He stood and offered his hand out to the other pilot. “Bill Matthews,” he said.
“Daniel Mancowski,” said the pilot. “And this is Rob Fallon.” He nodded toward his companion. “We’re taking a guy down to Dulles in about four hours.”
Emily smiled and stood, offering her hand. “Alice Townsend. I fly with Bill.”
Alex, then Emily, sat back down. “So, how much time you got in the Hawker?” asked Alex as he lifted his chin toward the plane out on the ramp.
“About fifteen hundred hours,” said Daniel. He looked over at Rob. “Rob has, what, nine hundred?”
“About that.”
“So, how does she handle?”
“Pretty docile. You ever been in one?”
“Nope. Most of my time is in smaller planes.”
“Well, there is a difference between the Hawker and the small stuff. You don’t steer the nose wheel with the rudder pedals.”
Alex’s interest was suddenly very aroused. “No? Then how do you maneuver on the ground?”
“It’s got this little wheel over by your left elbow you use like a steering wheel on a car.”
“You’re kidding. Why in the world did they design it that way?” Being lucky is a lot better than being good, Alex thought. I had no idea. He thought about trying to steer the plane, moving the rudder pedals back and forth, and getting no response. It would have been disastrous.
“Don’t know. Maybe it’s a British thing. They built the Hawkers, you know. What do you guys fly?”
“We’re taking out a Beechjet,” said Emily. “We just found out we’re delayed for a few hours.” She paused as if in thought. “We were talking about going to go grab a bite to eat when you came in. There’s nowhere to eat at Hanscom. You guys must be hungry, coming all the way from Chicago. Unless you want to eat from vending machines, you should come with us. Do you have time? We’ve got a car outside.”
Alex held his breath and mentally crossed his fingers. If this didn’t work…
The pilot named Daniel looked over at Rob. Rob shrugged. “Why not?” he said, as he glanced briefly at Emily. “We have a couple of hours.” He looked up at the woman behind the desk who was well out of earshot. “We all set for fuel?” he called out to her.
“All set.”
“Alright,” said Daniel. “I am hungry. Let’s go.”
“I know just the place,” said Alex as he stood and led the way toward the door to the parking lot. “We’ll go to the Burlington Mall. They have a great breakfast place there, ‘The Halfway Cafe.’ Ever been there?”
“No, but it sounds good to me,” said Daniel.
Alex felt a surge of relief as the others followed him out the door. Stage one complete! he thought. They went into the parking lot to a little blue Hyundai Doug got for them somehow. His resources seemed to be bottomless.
Daniel and Rob got in the back seat and Alex drove. “So you guys based in Chicago?” asked Alex as they left the parking lot.
“Yeah. You guys based here?”
“Boston,” said Emily, “but we fly out of Hanscom.”
“So, Alice, how do you like the Beechjet?” Rob asked. “How many hours you got in her?”
Emily gave Alex a worried glance, as if pleading Help me out here! “I have about a thousand hours in her. She’s cute.” She looked over at Alex and raised her eyebrows.
Smart girl, Alex thought. Her response was indefinite and disguised in feminine viewpoint. It gave away no idea of the depth of her ignorance and yet would undoubtedly be accepted by the guys in the back seat as consistent with a female value system. Obviously, there were large gaps in what Alex had been able to coach Emily. They just didn't have enough time to prepare for everything that might happen. He decided he’d better take the conversation in a safer direction. “Hey, either of you guys ever fly aerobatics?”
“Nope,” said Daniel. “God never meant airplanes to fly upside down.”
“Aerobatic airplanes, he did. It’s like dancing in the sky. You ever heard of Alan Cassiday?”
“No.”
“He’s a British aerobatic pilot that defines two kinds of flight.” One thing is true of all pilots, Alex knew. They never tire of talking about anything having to do with aviation. Emily might get bored with hearing this again, but the other guys wouldn't - even if they heard it before. He could keep this going for hours.
After about fifteen minutes, Alex pulled into a secluded narrow lane in Concord. At the end of the lane was parked Oscar’s van. They pulled up just behind the van and stopped.
“Hey, what’re we doing here?” asked Daniel.
“I have to make a quick stop. It’ll take just a minute,” said Alex as he stepped out and moved toward the back of the car.
“Where’s he going?” asked Daniel. He turned his head to watch Alex.
Doug appeared from behind them on the passenger side and Alex and Doug opened the back doors of the car simultaneously. Before the pilots in the back seat could react, Doug and Alex placed cloths over their mouths and noses and held them there snugly. The cloths were soaked in a chloroform-like chemical.
“What the…” gasped Rob as he reached up for Doug’s hand. Daniel was flailing about, trying to connect with Alex’s face. He made contact once, but sitting in the back seat was too awkward to offer a good blow and Alex was able to keep the rag in place. Within thirty seconds, the two were sitting limply in the back seat, breathing
slowly and deeply. Doug and Alex dragged them into the van where Doug bound their hands and feet and gagged them.
Emily took their security badges and scanned them into the computer in the van. “Nobody’s around. I don’t think we were seen,” she said. Within a few minutes, a machine specially made for the purpose produced two badges, one for Emily and one for Alex, identical to the originals, but with their pictures and assumed names.
“Okay, you two,” said Doug. “Get going. I’ll take it from here. See you in Worcester.”
Phase two, thought Alex.
. . .
Getting back to the plane turned out to be a non-event. Now that they had security badges, they were able to move about without anyone taking notice. The ground crew at Signature were expecting them, so they proved no obstacle. They walked out through the security door and up to the plane.
“Is anyone going to be suspicious because we’re out here so early?” asked Emily.
“Hell no,” said Alex. “Pilots love hanging around airplanes. No one would look twice if I pulled out a rag and started polishing the windows, or kicking the tires.” Alex reached up on the left side of the nose and pulled down on a lever. The cabin door dropped open and they entered the plane. He wanted to get a good look at the cockpit and go over the check lists before he did anything else. “Besides, there’s always a lot to do to prepare for a flight, no matter how familiar you are with the plane.”
In the cockpit, Alex sat in the left seat and took stock of what was in front of him. Behind the gull-winged control wheel were the usual instruments; altimeter, airspeed indicator, artificial horizon, turn and bank indicator, vertical speed indicator and so on. But there were also scores of buttons, gauges and lights that he wasn’t familiar with. They were in the panel in front of him, in the overhead and console between the pilots and even on the bulkhead behind their heads. Most of them, he wouldn’t have to worry about unless there was a problem. He was counting on it being unlikely a problem would arise on a short flight. But, damn! There were a lot of gizmos in this plane!
The Devil's Vial Page 22