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

by S. L. Menear

  “Everyone stop and be quiet. I heard something.” I listened.

  “What is it? I don’t hear nothing,” Rod said.

  “Shut the hell up and listen.” Jack turned and glared at him.

  My light faintly illuminated numerous four-inch yellow objects on the ground twenty yards away.

  “I’m going to point my light behind me so I can scan the area ahead with the night-vision binoculars.”

  I soon realized what was scrabbling toward us: a horde of deadly yellow scorpions.

  I forgot I was an airline captain as my screams echoed in the dark passageway.

  Ten

  When the king heard about the attack, he sent elite paratroopers from the Royal Guard. They floated into the dark, ancient city in the early evening, fifteen minutes after Werner disappeared into the desert. Wearing night-vision gear, the jumpers converged on the open temple area in the center of the necropolis.

  The major stowed his chute and addressed his men. “I want Saeed and Khaled on point with me. Wal and Yaseen, take high positions.” He nodded at the rest of his team. “You three, cover our six. Check in every five minutes.”

  His men moved in silence through the stone ruins. The major approached the picnic area and ducked behind a rock. Bodies littered the ground.

  He switched to infrared and spoke into his throat mike. “Eleven bodies in the picnic area near the temple. Weak heat signatures. Must have been the first killed. Meet me behind the rocks near the picnic tables.” He noticed eight of the dead were wearing Jordanian military uniforms.

  Royal Guard soldiers approached from several directions.

  The major studied the remains of his eight soldiers. “Looks like they were killed with double taps to the head. Someone took their weapons.” He scanned the ground around the tables.

  “Sir, the VIPs must have been kidnapped. I found the tour guide’s body. It’s over here face-down near the snack hut. Multiple head shots. Same with the photographer and a woman over there.” The soldier pointed at the bodies.

  “Check the pictures on the camera. Maybe he took shots of the attackers.” The major made a call on his SATCOM. “We have eleven bodies—eight soldiers, a photographer, a woman, and the tour guide. What’s the ETA for the dogs? Good. Area is not secure.”

  He turned to his men. “Dogs in thirty. Leave the dead. The police will deal with the crime scene. We must find the tour group. Let’s move.” He stowed his satellite phone and followed the trail to the Monastery steps.

  Thirty minutes later, the major received a radio call. “Sir, dog teams have arrived.”

  “Lead them to the picnic area. Maybe they’ll pick up an escape trail. Keep me informed.”

  The major and his point men began climbing up the stairs to the Monastery tomb. He soon heard excited barks. He looked back and spotted dogs racing up the steps.

  One of his men spoke into his headset. “Sir, the dogs found a place near the picnic area where more than one person bled out. The blood soaked into the sand by some rocks.”

  “No bodies?” The major watched the dogs approach.

  “No corpses, but lots of blood. Enough for two or three people. The dogs are following a trail that seems to lead to the Monastery.”

  “The enemy could be hiding there with the tour group. I want five men with me. I’ll hold back the dogs. Get here double time.” The major gestured to the handler to stop.

  The handler yanked the leads and halted. The dogs sniffed and barked at a spot nearby as he shined a light on the step. “Looks like it could be blood. I’ll mark it for the forensics team.”

  When the three backup soldiers arrived, the major and his men urged the dogs up the steps. Near the side trail for the holy spring, the dog team found another bloody spot.

  “This blood could mean tour members were wounded while climbing the steps. Not enough blood to indicate mortal wounds,” the soldier said.

  “Unless the wounds caused them to fall off the stairs to their deaths. Call the other dog team to search the rocks below.” The major looked down into the dark shadows.

  It wasn’t long before the major received another radio call.

  “Sir, the dogs have found several places where bodies bled out on the rocks,” a soldier reported.

  “How many places?” The major hoped it wasn’t the seven VIPs.

  “Four areas, but we did not find bodies.”

  “We are about to search the Monastery. Keep looking.” The major led his men into the ancient mausoleum carved high up into the mountain.

  The soldiers crept through every nook of the rock tomb even though the dogs showed no interest. They were drawn to the outer terrace where drops of blood had dried on the stone.

  The major stepped outside and looked down on Petra, which had become a beehive of activity. A large detachment of soldiers had begun searching, their flashlights illuminating hundreds of possible hiding places.

  A forensic unit and coroner from the Aqaba police had erected a tent for a temporary morgue. Their officers gathered blood samples from the sites the dog handlers had marked.

  Helicopters covered the vast area with their bright spotlights. Their rotor blades thundered inside the valley.

  The major called the central command tent in the temple area. “Lieutenant, give me a sit rep. Have we found anyone?”

  “Negative, sir. The bus driver reported seeing a helicopter fly out of Petra, but it didn’t look big enough to carry seven VIPs and the kidnappers. Based on the blood, there should be more bodies. The dogs haven’t found them.”

  “Four people were shot on the Monastery steps halfway up. I will concentrate my search there.” The major signaled his men to gather as the dog handler stood nearby with the dogs. “We will search the area around the holy spring. Look for clues, anything that might help us find the tour group.”

  The soldiers followed the dogs back to where the blood had been found. The dogs trotted into a narrow cleft, their barks echoing off the rock walls.

  “In here!” the handler yelled.

  The major pushed past two soldiers and stopped behind the dogs that were barking and scratching at the rock where the path dead-ended.

  “Well?” the major asked.

  The handler pulled the dogs back so the major could see the pith helmet on the ground next to the mountain. “Look at this.” He pointed at the helmet and then to the square indentation in the rock with the trident and inverted pyramid indents embedded in gold.

  The major picked up the helmet and detected faint perfume. He shined his light on the square, and the gold gleamed. He scanned the surrounding area and found only solid rock. Then his radio crackled with another call.

  “Major, we found tire tracks in a wadi at the south end of the city. The tracks lead into the desert. Looks like a Humvee.”

  “Send a helicopter to follow the tracks. A Humvee only holds eight, not big enough for the tour group and their kidnappers. Perhaps some left in the Humvee, and the rest flew out in the helicopter the bus driver reported.”

  The soldiers continued searching through the night, but no trace of the tour group was found.

  Earlier in the day, a report of the attack reached the media after the bus driver called 191. It grew to international news when soldiers found blood but none of the VIPs.

  Television and Internet news sites repeated the lead story: Sir Lady Samantha Starr and movie stars Jack Stone, Carlene Jensen, and Rod Rogan vanished with three air crew in Petra. Eight Royal Guard soldiers, a photographer, a flight attendant, and a tour guide were murdered.

  U.S. Navy Base, Naples, Italy

  Matt called Ross at the SAS base.

  Ross answered his mobile. “Hey, Matt, I guess you got my email about Sam. Her tour group vanished in Petra earlier today.”

  “No shit, it’s all over the news! Have you heard from Interpol or the Jordanian authorities?” Tension tinged Matt’s voice.

  “Aye, a helicopter was seen leaving Petra, and they found Humvee trac
ks. Neither had the capacity to hold Sam’s group and an unknown number of kidnappers.”

  “Could have divided the group, took the most valuable hostages in the chopper. Did they get a radar track on them?”

  “The chopper flew under radar, and the Humvee vanished across the border. Sam’s DARPA watch stopped sending a signal in Petra.” Ross cleared his throat. “Uh, Matt, there’s something else. They found evidence that six or seven people bled out, but they couldn’t find their bodies.”

  “Sonofabitch! That means only one or two might still be alive. Do you think Nicolai attacked them?” Matt’s voice telegraphed his anguish.

  “He hasn’t been spotted since your sister tossed him off the cliff in the Highlands. If she hadn’t heard his voice on that mobile call to Lord Sweetwater during the royal ball at Buckingham Palace, we wouldn’t know he’s still alive.”

  “That and the eyeball he sent her later.”

  “Aye, Nicolai’s known for his eyeball collection.”

  “So who did this?”

  “I think the same group that attacked her in Hong Kong and Agra is responsible. Could be the Black Sun, not sure. She said she found an ancient weapon, and they want it. Does Mike know about Sam?”

  “He’s out on a mission. I’ll tell him when he gets back. What did she do with the weapon? She can’t carry it with her on the airliner.”

  “She sent it to a university professor. Do you know who that might be?” Ross tried to sound hopeful.

  “Professor Ben Armitage at Harvard. He’s an expert on antiquities and a friend of our family. I’ll call him. Maybe he knows who’s behind Sam’s kidnapping.”

  “Brilliant. Call me when you know something. I’ll do the same.”

  Matt called Ben. The professor answered on the third ring.

  “Matt? It’s been a long time. How are you?”

  “Not so good. Sam vanished with a small group in Petra today. Any chance you know who was after her?” Matt tried to keep his voice even.

  “I heard about her on the news. I was hoping you called to tell me she’s safe. She mentioned a group called the Black Sun, said they attacked her in Hong Kong.”

  “Who the hell’s the Black Sun?”

  “Prominent Nazis who belong to a secret cult that went underground after World War II. Their goal is to harness Earth’s electromagnetic energy, which they call Vril, and use the power for world domination.”

  “What does that have to do with Sam?” Matt felt frustrated.

  “She found what may be the prototype for a doomsday weapon called Poseidon’s Sword and shipped it to me from Hong Kong. The weapon is thought to have been invented by scientists in Atlantis.”

  “Atlantis? Seriously?”

  “I carbon dated it. It’s eleven thousand years old. It almost burned down my house.”

  “Shit! Why does my sister have to be such a freaking danger magnet? A doomsday weapon? That’s just great!” Matt tried to rein in his emotions. “But if you have the weapon, why do they want her?”

  “I think they need her to activate it. The crystals lit up when she touched them. They were still glowing when I received the artifact next-day air freight.”

  “But that’s just the prototype. Where’s the full-size Poseidon’s Sword?” Matt’s tone betrayed his concern.

  “Ancient scrolls say it’s hidden at the intersection of powerful ley lines. Maybe they think she knows where it is.”

  “What the hell’s a ley line?”

  “Ley lines, also called dragon currents, are lines of concentrated electromagnetic energy that crisscross the Earth. Ancient temples were built on their intersections. In fact, Petra is located on one.”

  “Got it. Are you aware the women in our bloodline have psychic powers? Some call it the second sight. Sam started seeing visions a few months ago, usually in her dreams.”

  “Psychic power is filled with electromagnetic energy. Sam’s energy must be the right frequency to switch on the weapon.”

  “Great, millions of people on the planet, but my sister has the exact frequency needed to activate an ancient weapon. What are the odds? Shit! Sorry, Professor. It’s just that I’m really worried about her.”

  “I am too, but Sam has survived many dangerous situations. Just because she disappeared in Petra doesn’t mean the Black Sun took her. She may have evaded them. That city is two thousand years old. Maybe she found a secret passage. Eighty-five percent of the city is still undiscovered, buried long ago in a major earthquake. My money’s on Sam, especially since her energy’s in synch with whatever the ancients may have hidden there.”

  “I hope you’re right. She seems to have vanished without a trace.” Mike sighed. “Please call me if you learn anything new. Watch your back, Prof. They may come for you next.”

  “Will do, Matt. Keep me in the loop. I’ll keep looking for anything that might help. And please, be careful.”

  Matt gazed at the lights on the massive U.S. aircraft carrier anchored in the harbor in Naples, Italy and wondered if he should alert SOCOM about Poseidon’s Sword and the Black Sun. Either they’ll help rescue Sam or bring a shit storm down on her.

  He called Ross and filled him in on everything Armitage had told him. Matt cleared his throat. “Um, there’s something else you should know. My mom has psychic abilities, and Sam recently acquired them too.”

  “What exactly do you mean by psychic abilities?”

  “They see visions, usually of future events. It runs on the female side of the family, but don’t worry. They’re not witches.”

  Matt felt it was important for Ross to have all the facts. “The professor thinks Sam may have eluded capture using her psychic talent to find a hidden passage.”

  “Nothing about Sam surprises me anymore. I hope the professor’s right. If she hid with her group inside the mountain, her watch signal would’ve been blocked. But why didn’t she come out when the soldiers arrived?”

  “Who knows? I hope to hell they didn’t get lost in there.” Matt paced as he talked.

  “If they did, we can find them with dogs, assuming we can locate the entrance. Are you aboard ship?”

  “No, I’m calling from Naples. We ship out tonight. Then I’m back on flight duty. You can reach me via email. Just be careful what you say.”

  “I haven’t told anyone about Sam’s discovery or about the group that’s after her.”

  “I’m debating whether to tell the captain of the Lawrence Lee about my sister and the search for an ancient doomsday weapon by some Nazi cult called Black Sun. Shit, what do you think?”

  “Hold off. You’re on the newest and largest nuclear-powered carrier in the U.S. fleet. Your skipper has the power to help us or make us wish we’d never been born. Let’s sort this out. We don’t want Sam in the crosshairs of the military, and we’d bloody well best not mention Nazis and doomsday weapons.”

  “You’re right. We should be damn certain before we bring the military into the loop.” Matt sighed.

  “I managed to get a copy of the manifest for Sam’s flight. Do you know anything about her two copilots, Lance Bowie and Pete Winston? Can she count on them in combat?” Ross’s voice was tight with tension.

  “Lance was her copilot last June when the bombs exploded on board. He’s former military. I think she said he flew fighters in the Air Force. He’s solid. Pete’s in the Air National Guard. He flew warthogs in Iraq. Yeah, Sam can count on both of them.”

  “The British movie star served in the Royal Navy. His father is Admiral John Stone, commander of the British fleet,” Ross said. “He’s pressuring the prime minister to send a SAS team into Jordan. He wants his son rescued. I don’t know anything about the other celebrities, Carlene Jensen and Rod Rogan.”

  “Carlene Jensen’s a Texas girl. She won a pistol-shooting championship. I could be wrong, but I think Rod Rogan’s a typical Hollywood poser. You know, great with jokes and acting, but I wouldn’t count on him in a fire fight.”

  “That means Sam ha
s only four people she can count on. Wait a minute, what about the flight attendant?” Ross named Inga and sounded hopeful.

  “When I saw Sam on a layover in Barcelona once, she got me a date with Inga. She’s Swedish and seems like the sort who’d remain calm in an emergency. She’s a trained crew member and should be solid.” Matt felt better after discussing things with Ross. “Try to let me know if you get sent in to look for Sam’s group.”

  “I’ll do what I can. Keep me in the loop from your end. Uh, Matt, one more thing, have you told Loren?”

  “No, not yet. Mom’s in Scotland with Duncan. Do you have time to stop by his castle and explain everything? My cell’s battery is about to die.”

  “Aye, I’ll take care of it.”

  Matt slipped his cell into his pocket.

  Where are you, Sam? Somewhere safe, I hope.

  Petra

  “Sam, what’s wrong?” Lance spun me around by the shoulders.

  I took a deep breath and tried to regain my composure. “Take a look.” I handed him the night-vision binoculars and turned to Jack. “I hope to God you brought a flask with you.”

  “Sonofabitch!” Lance stood transfixed.

  Jack glanced from Lance to me and pulled a large flask from a side pocket in his backpack. “One-hundred-and-eighty proof rum.” He pulled out his phone to use the light.

  I dug through my bag and pulled out the butane lighter. The rest of the group’s cell lights blinked on as they tried to see the threat.

  After slipping on my backpack, I took the night-vision binoculars from Lance and slipped them over my head. “Okay, I’ll take that rum now.”

  I handed Lance the halogen flashlight. “Shine the light on them and I’ll pour rum over the buggers. Can’t use the night vision. The bright fire would blind me. Sure hope this works.”

  Before Lance could protest, I ran toward the scary horde and unscrewed the flask’s cap.

  “Lance, what the hell’s going on?” Pete yelled.

  “Uh, keep everyone back. We’re dealing with an insect problem.” Lance aimed the flashlight at the horde.