Flight to Destiny (A Samantha Starr Thriller, Book 2)

by S. L. Menear

  When everyone was free, I faced them. “I understand you’re upset, but you need to be quiet until we get out of here. Dry your eyes, blow your noses, and come with me.”

  The teary-eyed guide relinquished command. “Thanks for rescuing us. I’ll follow you, Miss Starr.”

  I led them up the stairs to the outside and scanned our escape route.

  “Follow me to the western gate and keep a sharp lookout. The police should be here soon.” I inhaled and tried not to think about the four dead men and who killed them.

  While Pete and Carlene flanked the group, Lance guarded the rear. Fifty yards from the gate, I heard a Super Lynx helicopter approaching fast. Moments later, it hovered in front of us.

  “It’s the SAS!” I tried to shout over the thundering rotor blades. “Everyone sit down and put your hands on your heads. Weapons on the ground!”

  The helicopter pilot blinded us with a spotlight and landed. Soldiers rushed out with submachine guns and surrounded us. Their commanding officer approached me.

  “Sir Lady Samantha?” he asked with a British accent.

  “Please, call me Sam.” I smiled. “Thanks for sending that sniper to shoot the kidnappers.”

  “What sniper?” He looked confused. “We just landed.”

  “Four men kidnapped me and left everyone else tied up in the lower level of the Taj. After a sniper shot my captors, I took their weapons and ran back to rescue my people. We were on our way to the gate when you landed.” I stood and handed him my handgun.

  He looked me over and paused on the sheath clipped to my jeans. “Give me the knife. Who has the other weapons?”

  His eyes focused on me with a fierce intensity. Ross was a pussycat compared to this guy.

  “Two men and a woman have the weapons.” I pointed to them, and his men collected the pistols. “I called the local police.”

  “I know—they’re searching outside the gates. Show me the dead men.” He summoned one of his soldiers to accompany us while the rest guarded the group.

  I led them to the scene of the murders. The bodies were gone. The SAS commander gave me a scary angry-alpha-male glare.

  Damn, I broke rule no. 1 of my dad’s rules for a happy life: Never anger an alpha male.

  “Uh, apparently a clean-up crew took the bodies, but the blood is still here.” I pointed to where the bodies had bled out. “Look, I took pictures of the dead men for identification.”

  He sent my photos to his mobile phone. “Explain to me again exactly what happened here.”

  Could his eyes get any more intense? He looked scarier than my kidnappers.

  Once more I recited the sequence of events. Searching for signs of deceit, he stared at me like I had just arrived from a distant planet. Finally, he sighed heavily and called someone on his SATCOM.

  I listened while he relayed my story.

  I heard him ask, “Is this possible, sir?” He looked surprised at the response he received. Then he looked at me. The angry-alpha-male glare vanished. In fact, he looked amused as he handed me the phone.

  “Hello?” I said, not knowing who was on the other end.

  “Sweetheart, what the bloody hell are you involved in now?” Ross asked.

  I stepped away from the soldiers for privacy. “Um, well, I’m not sure. I found an ancient weapon.”

  I explained what happened in Hong Kong and what my professor friend had discovered.

  “The men who kidnapped me tonight looked and sounded German. Nicolai may not have sent them. They might be part of a secret organization called Black Sun. Please keep that and the ancient weapon to yourself for now. Sorry I don’t know more. I miss you.” The last sentence was a lame effort to appease him.

  “Damn it, lass! It’s hard enough trying to protect you from Nicolai. Now you have a new group after you. I may have to lock you in my castle until all your enemies forget about you or are dead.”

  “That could be fun if you’re there with me.” I tried to lighten the mood.

  Ross sighed. “Where are you going next?”

  “Aqaba, Jordan. We’re taking a tour of Petra with three celebrity passengers.”

  “Petra’s a perfect choke point for terrorists. Stay the hell away from there.”

  “We’ll have armed security. Jack Stone is tight with the king. He’ll keep us safe. I’m supposed to accompany the passengers on all the tours.” I tried to sound calm and confident.

  “Lass, we don’t have assets in Jordan. Now that we know you have unknown men hunting you, the wise move would be to call for a replacement pilot and fly to Scotland for an extended leave of absence at my castle.” Ross sounded tense.

  After my discovery inside the Taj Mahal, I was determined to pursue my destiny, despite the danger. An unseen force was driving me.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine now that the bad guys are dead. Thanks for sending the team. Love you.” I knew the L-word would give him pause and ended the call before he could protest.

  I handed the SATCOM to the SAS commander and kissed his cheek. “Thanks for coming to my rescue. Sorry I wasted your time.”

  He looked taken aback. “Right. Let’s get your people back to the hotel in Delhi. We’ll accompany you on the bus.” He led me back to the group.

  Lance walked up to me. “Sam?”

  “Um, everything’s under control. The soldiers will accompany us to the hotel.”

  “Let’s go.” The SAS officer herded us through the gate and down the lane into the bus.

  We had a brief delay while local police detectives took our statements on the parked bus.

  Many of the women sat beside soldiers and continued sobbing. Everyone looked shell shocked as they settled in for the long bus ride.

  Lance sat beside me. I waited until no one was looking to show him what was in my purse. The pyramid-shaped diamond on the pendant was still glowing.

  His eyes widened. “Where—”

  I touched his lips and whispered, “It was hidden inside a secret wall compartment in the Taj. Don’t say anything about the artifact we found, or this pendant, or the Black Sun. We don’t want to open a can of worms. I texted Pete with similar instructions.”

  “Darlin’, the worms are already out of the can.” He whispered, “High-adrenaline sex later?”

  I glanced over my shoulder. “Shouldn’t you be sitting with Carlene?”

  Lance threw his head back against the headrest and sighed.

  When we arrived at the hotel, the SAS officer questioned everyone in a conference room. He took notes for the written report he would send to the director of Special Forces. Lance, Pete, and I left out any mention of an ancient weapon, a pendant, or the Black Sun.

  When the soldier finished, I spoke to the group. “We need to discuss whether it’s wise to continue this charter flight around the world. I understand if you’d like to cancel the trip and return home, and I apologize if I had anything to do with what happened tonight.”

  Several people raised their hands and said in unison, “We want to go home.”

  April, the woman who had held Pete’s hand earlier, stood. “I vote we go home.”

  Jack Stone stood. “It’s not that simple. We’re under contract.”

  “Jack’s right,” Carlene said. “I’ve never broken a contract, and I don’t intend to start now.”

  “I have a solution,” Jack said. “Non-essential personnel may return home. Some hair, makeup, and wardrobe people, along with the cameramen, must stay on. We’ll need you for the Petra shoot and the Dubai Film Festival. You can get us ready in the hotel rooms and stay there.”

  Jack looked at the stocky cameraman who had snapped pictures at the Taj before the ambush. “Sorry, Hal, but we’ll need you for the shots in Petra.”

  “Jack, why can’t you cancel the Petra tour?” Hal blotted sweat from his face and neck, even though the room was cool.

  “The King of Jordan is financing our next action movie. He insists we take a private tour of Petra and provide him with P
R photos of Carlene, Rod, and me on site. One does not refuse a king.” Jack maintained an adamant tone. “But don’t worry, the king’s a personal friend. I’ll see to it he assigns men from his Royal Guard for our protection.”

  “Jack’s right,” Carlene said again. “We have to fulfill our contracts to keep the funding for our movie sequel. The Royal Guard will keep us safe.”

  Rod looked too traumatized to speak.

  “I’ll see if I can arrange for another captain to replace me in Aqaba in case I’m the reason for the attack.” I thought it was the right move, but I knew my airline was running short of captains and might not have a replacement.

  “Hell, no! We’re keepin’ you, Captain Starr.” Carlene gave me two thumbs up. “We want the best. I read about how you saved the bombed airliner.”

  Rod snapped out of his stupor. “Damn straight! We want a badass pilot. You have to stay.”

  “I appreciate your confidence in me, but you should know our airline has plenty of brave, highly skilled, badass pilots. Our chief pilot tops the list.”

  Jack stood and faced me. “You may be a kidnap target, but so is every actor in this group. The king will keep us safe in Jordan. We have plenty of time to arrange for extra security in Dubai and Paris. You’re the captain we want on our flights. Case closed.” He crossed his arms and nodded at Carlene and Rod.

  “Okay, I’ll stay, but I need a list of everyone going home so I can make the travel arrangements.”

  I gave the group my room number and told them to pass the word along to those not on the Taj Mahal tour. Jack stayed behind to help me.

  An hour later, everything was handled. The three movie stars, their personal assistants, and one hair, makeup, and wardrobe person per star would continue on, along with two cameramen. Except for one photographer, the others would not be required to attend tours or events with the actors. The non-essential people were issued tickets to return home on a commercial flight.

  “Jack, I suggest substituting a smaller aircraft for the remaining flight schedule. It’s hard to justify the cost of a jumbo jet for seventeen passengers,” I said.

  “Nonsense, the king’s personal airplane is a 767, so he’ll have no objection to us keeping our luxury 767. Besides, we need to stay on schedule. I’ll see you on board.” Jack nodded and returned to his room.

  FAA regulations required a minimum of one flight attendant for every fifty seats on a commercial airliner. Our aircraft had a hundred seats, so I sent six of our ten flight attendants home and kept four to ensure first-class service for the seventeen passengers.

  After we exited the crew bus at the airport, I gathered my crew in the operations lounge for a briefing before the flight to Aqaba, Jordan.

  “Tawnee, Inga, Landon, and Arial, I want to thank you for volunteering to continue on. The actors would like the pilots and at least two flight attendants to accompany them on the Petra tour, but you don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

  “I’ve always wanted to see Petra. Jack said the king will close the site to everyone not on our tour. Soldiers will keep us safe. Count me in.” Tawnee smiled with confidence.

  “I want to go too,” Inga said.

  “That means Arial and I can relax at the hotel pool and work on our tans.” Landon looked pleased.

  “That covers the cabin crew.” I glanced at Lance and Pete. “What about you guys? You don’t have to go on the tour. I’ll babysit the movie stars.”

  “A stroll through a giant necropolis sounds fun to me. I’m going.” Lance grinned and nodded.

  “Kidnappers wouldn’t dare attack a tour group guarded by the king’s soldiers. No way am I missing this little adventure. Hell, we might even end up with cameos in their movie.” Pete gave Lance a high five.

  I smiled at my six crew members. “All right, let’s give them a pleasant flight to Aqaba.” I led them out to our Boeing airliner.

  Forty-five minutes later, we were airborne for Jordan.

  Eight

  Dundee, Scotland

  The older spy read the printout his protégé had handed him. “Excellent work. I’ll call the boss with an update. Want an energy drink?”

  “Aye, I’ve got some extra coins here. Get yourself a coffee.”

  The older man waved him off. “Thanks, but I’m buying. Keep up the good work. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  He walked outside and lit a cigarette. A light rain blew across the Firth of Tay as he huddled under the overhang of the one-story building. He took a few long drags and exhaled little clouds of gray smoke into the brisk, wet air.

  This job’s a bloody gold mine. Must find a way to keep the big prize for myself.

  He pulled out his mobile phone and hit the number designated LES.

  Lord Edgar Sweetwater answered on the second ring. “What have you learned about our competition?”

  “The men who came after Samantha in Hong Kong and Agra may belong to a secret organization called Black Sun.”

  “Who are they?”

  “I did some research after Samantha sent a text to Professor Armitage warning him about them. Key members of the Nazi leadership established Black Sun around the time of World War II. Some members are reputed to have mental control over Earth’s electromagnetic energy, which they call Vril, a word they took from a sci-fi novel. After the war, they went underground. Their goal is world domination. They must want Poseidon’s Sword.”

  “Did they try to kidnap Samantha because she had the prototype?”

  “Aye, they probably think she’s the key to locating the ancient weapon.”

  “Then let’s make sure they don’t get her. Keep feeding my strike team intel on her activities and schedule so they can stay ahead of the Germans.”

  “Good thing your men are shadowing her. The SAS team was late to the party in Agra.”

  “I don’t count on the SAS for anything except buggering up my plans.”

  “They don’t have anyone in Jordan; neither do the SEALs. The Black Sun may try to grab her at Petra. I suggest you have a team ready and waiting before she arrives.”

  “I’ll take care of it.” Sweetwater hung up.

  The spy finished his cigarette and smiled.

  After this job, I’ll retire in luxury.

  Jordan

  “The fuel truck will be there tomorrow morning. It broke down on the way and had to be towed and wait for a part.” The Jordanian Air Force general used an apologetic tone.

  “This is bad. We want to be gone before the soldiers arrive with that VIP tour.”

  “You know you can trust me. I believe in your cause. I have always given your flights a military designation and safe passage.”

  “Yes, but if the soldiers see our airplane—”

  “Your command center is safe. The aircraft is parked on the opposite side of the mountains from Petra. No one will see it.”

  “We trust you to make it so. Keep the faith. Allahu akbar.”

  The general slipped his cell into his pocket and entered the Jordanian Air Force’s command center. He had to be careful. If the king discovered his treachery, his life would end with his head chopped off.

  Petra

  Werner paced inside the Monastery, a dark tomb carved high into the mountain in Petra. With great trepidation, he stepped outside into the sunlight and made a call on his satellite phone.

  Master’s voice sounded cold. “The Supreme Master has expressed his disappointment. Have you discovered who shot our men in Agra?”

  “No, but it may have been a sniper from the Dragon Society. I have a team following their movements now. They haven’t sent anyone to Petra.”

  “And you’re certain the Golden Twin remains unharmed?”

  “Jawohl, Master.”

  “What I must do now pains me. The Supreme Master has ordered this disciplinary measure to remind you of the importance of your mission.”

  “I understand.”

  A sound like a tornado roared through Werner’s phone as it vib
rated in his hand.

  “Your failures brought this on you.”

  He felt a tingling sensation across his cheek that abruptly became a searing pain as his eardrum ruptured, and blood poured from his nostrils into his mouth. He dropped to his knees, clutching the phone to his ear, and endured the fate he knew he deserved. As the pain ebbed, he heard Master’s faint voice.

  “Proceed with your mission.”

  He collapsed onto the stone terrace, blood dripping from his nose and ear.

  Aqaba

  I sipped hot tea in the elegant restaurant of the Hotel Royal in Aqaba with Lance and Pete as we studied the brochure for Petra. “Ross was right about the entrance being a perfect choke point for an attack. It’s so narrow, the visitors have to walk between towering rock walls for almost a mile.”

  “Uh oh, look at this.” Lance pointed at the brochure. “The king had better send a small army with us.”

  “Why?” I looked at what he was pointing to. “Damn!”

  “Jack Stone assured me we’d have the royal regiment at our disposal.” Pete took a sip of steaming coffee. “What’s wrong?”

  “The brochure describes Petra as ‘a rose-red city as old as time.’ That was the second part of the Dragon Master’s advice about finding my destiny.”

  “Great! Just when I thought we might have a fun day.” Pete shook his head.

  Despite the danger, the urge to discover my destiny was strengthening. Will I need my new pendant in Petra? “Surely the Royal Guards will prevent another attack.”

  “It’s a long drive from here. I hope soldiers have been assigned to guard our bus too.” Pete held up the map to point out our route.

  “I heard Jack say it’s a bullet-proof bus.” Lance signaled the waitress for a refill.

  “Well, this is shaping up to be another fun-filled excursion,” Pete said. “Maybe they should hand out submachine guns as we board the bus.”

  “I wish we could’ve left earlier, but there’s no chance of that with our night-owl celebs. Good thing it doesn’t get too hot this time of year,” I said.