by JC Ryan
What they had feared had happened. Mark knew they were out of time. It was now just a matter of hours before Brideaux would figure out who helped Daniel and his men. And then his face, together with those of Mark and Max, would be on the news. By then, Brideaux’s group would have found out about the helicopter. He had to get back to Doug and tell him. That chopper had to fly tonight, as soon as it was dark, or they had to make another plan. There were no other choices.
He decided it was too much of a risk to drive out to hide the supplies - he would put it all in the backpacks he bought and explain it all away somehow if Patrick asked.
As Mark walked into the hanger, he noticed that Patrick was not there. He called Doug, who crawled out from under the chopper where he and the mechanic were still busy. Mark caught Doug’s eye and placed his finger on his lips, suspecting Doug would be able to read from his face there was a problem. The gesture was to warn him not to say anything. “Hey, Doug how is it going here? Where is Patrick?”
Doug replied, “He’s out on a flying lesson with one of his students. As for the repairs, we’ve made some progress. She’s definitely in better condition than when we brought her in last night.”
“That’s good news. Farmington is a very interesting little town; let me show you a few of the souvenirs I bought for the folks back home,” Mark said, signaling him with his hand and heading towards the hanger door.
Doug followed him outside, and when they were out of hearing range of the mechanic Mark gave him the news.
”I just saw a news bulletin. Daniel and the others’ faces are all over the news, even the faces of their wives. The police are looking for all of them. You’re not gonna believe it. They’re accused of murder and kidnapping!”
“What the hell? Murder and kidnapping who?”
“Killing Robert Cartwright and kidnapping Joseph Yazzie. You called it, Doug. That John Brideaux is undoubtedly very well connected.”
“Anything about us?”
“No, nothing … at least not yet. That’s the only thing in our favor at the moment, but given how quickly they discovered the disappearance of Daniel and the rest, our discovery is just a few hours away.”
Many thoughts were racing through his mind when Mark continued, “I was thinking on the way back - we have to get out of here the moment the sun goes down. We have to make that chopper fly, or we’ll have to find a vehicle. However, being on the roads wouldn’t be my first choice. There could be roadblocks. They could pull us over, and it’s just too risky for my liking. The sun will be down in the next hour or two. What’s your assessment of the chopper’s condition at the moment?”
“Well, we found all the visible leaks and plugged them as best we could. As I said before, it’s in much better condition than when we landed last night. That much I know. So, for now I wouldn’t worry about getting a vehicle. I’ll get her airborne, and we’ll fly out of here, even if it’s on two broken legs. We either make it all the way or get a few hundred more miles closer to Bozeman.”
With Mark’s agreement, they walked back into the hanger, and Doug spoke to the mechanic. He indicated that he had almost reached the end of his knowledge and abilities in terms of helicopter engines. There wasn’t much more he could do, but agreed with Doug that the engines were definitely in better shape than when he walked in there earlier today. They decided to wrap up the work - made sure everything was back in place and tied up properly.
In the meantime, Patrick returned, to Doug’s relief. He’d feared that Brideaux would check out Farmington as soon as he thought ‘chopper’. They gave Patrick an update.
Doug told him “There’s nothing more that can be done. It looks like we’ve found all the leaks and fixed them. We’ll head out and hope that we make it.
By the time Doug and the mechanic made their final inspection, refueled, and loaded a few gallons of extra oil into the back, the last rays of the sun had disappeared.
Doug and Patrick walked over to his office to fill out some paperwork, something both Doug and Mark would have liked to avoid. No paper trail of their visit would have been much better, but they didn’t want to raise any suspicion with Patrick or put him in any danger. It was risky, but the best scenario was for them to make sure that Patrick ‘knew’ they were on their way to Boulder.
While Doug, Patrick and the mechanic walked away, Mark got the opportunity to move the stuff from the truck into the chopper and concealed it as best he could.
A ‘but‘ in that statement
As soon as darkness fell, the river group heard the noise of an approaching chopper. Daniel ran up the footpath, hiding behind a rock at the top to make sure it was their lift approaching and to wave them down.
Relief gave them wings, and it took a mere fifteen minutes to move all their gear plus Roy up the footpath and into the chopper. As soon as they were airborne, Doug turned the nose and set a course for Bozeman that would take them past Grand Junction, about 180 nautical miles away.
While Doug got busy setting course, Daniel voiced the unspoken thoughts of all of them who were in hiding, “You guys had us worried for a while today. We hoped you would get back within an hour from dropping us off. I suppose the mechanical problems were worse than we hoped they’d be?”
Mark replied, “Sorry to cause you more worries than you already have. Yes, you’re right - the engine problems took almost all day to fix. That’s nothing compared to what I am about to tell you now, though. The shit has hit the fan. You guys are all over the news! So are your wives. And wait for it – you’re wanted for murder and kidnapping!”
JR was the first one to comprehend Mark’s news “That son of a bitch! Murder and kidnapping! What the fuck! Who did we kill and kidnap?”
“Apparently you guys killed Robert Cartwright and seized Joseph Yazzie. Don’t tell me you can’t remember?” Mark replied in a sarcastic tone.
JR hissed into the microphone, “John Brideaux I am going to first break all your fingers one by one, then your arms and legs, before I break your neck for this.”
“Oh, and by the way they also mentioned that some of you might be wounded and will be trying to get medical help,” Mark said as he gave them the last bit of news.
Daniel was reminded of a very similar experience a few years ago when they discovered the 10th Cycle Library. “Sounds like the time when those bastards of the Orion Society blamed us for everyone they killed and managed to have every law enforcement agency on the planet out looking for us. The difference is that John Brideaux is much better connected than the OS were. We can expect a lot more trouble from that lunatic.”
Raj wanted more information, “Mark, so tell us the full story in detail. Where did you see this? What exactly did they say and show on the TV? What about you, Doug, and Max? Was there anything about you guys on the news?”
Mark went into greater detail, trying to ignore the expletives the others were punctuating his review with.
Even Roy, who was still very uncomfortable and drugged with painkillers, was lucid and annoyed enough to comment, “Why draw the women into it? If that bastard comes within a mile of Salome, he is going to find a nanonuke in his rabbit hole. Come to think of it, you guys just get me to our Rabbit Hole, and I’ll build enough nanonukes for us to blow him and his disciples to hell!”
The ones who were there during the Sword of Cyrus crisis and knew from firsthand experience exactly what Roy meant and of what he was capable found some comfort in that comment. The others just smiled at his sudden outburst. They had no idea what happened during that crisis, nor Roy’s role in it. In fact, they’d only known Daniel and JR before the rescue and had never met Roy or Raj. In due time, they would be filled in about the others’ expertise.
Daniel calmed their minds a little bit with his next remark. “Guys, as I have said before, I don’t like to assume things, but it seems we can take it that our people and families must have slipped away before Brideaux’s people arrived at the foundation last night. If not, he wouldn’t be lookin
g for them as well as us. He obviously did not get his hands on the 10th and 8th Cycle libraries and realized his mistake of not keeping us hostage. He will be one very frustrated and very dangerous hombre by now.”
Daniel’s reasoning made sense and brought some relief to them all.
If it were not so dark in the back of the chopper, they would have noticed and questioned the smile on Raj’s face. He was thinking about that middle finger welcome message on his servers. He would have paid a lot of money to be a fly on the wall when Brideaux discovered that.
Raj was thinking how nice it would be if his little joke caused Brideaux a heart attack that killed him. The thought that it would be good riddance of bad rubbish crossed his mind, but he did not think they would be so lucky. And after all, there were some scores to be settled with Brideaux first. He couldn’t just check out like that. He might wish for that escape before they were finished with him, but it was not going to happen.
They had to agree there was not much else they could do now, other than get to the Rabbit Hole before the rest of their faces appeared on TV. A few minutes of silence followed while they were all contemplating their situation when Doug’s voice came over their earphones, “Ah shit! Don’t we have enough trouble already?”
“What is it? What now?” Almost all of them asked in unison.
“Oil pressure on the port engine just dropped. I will have to put her down and quick, before the engine cuts out.”
“Oh, my God. Nothing is going our way lately,” Daniel said.
Everyone went quiet as Doug started descending and landed in an isolated area about thirty miles west of Durango. Thanks to Mark and the five flashlights he’d acquired, Doug was able to inspect the engine and quickly find the problem. An oil leak in one of the hoses! They used duct tape from the toolbox and wrapped it around the hose.
Daniel commented “Keep in mind it may not hold. Let’s cross our fingers and hope.”
Doug added “Hey! It’s not without good reason that duct tape is also known as ‘100 mile an hour tape’ in the motorsports industry, where they use it all the time for emergencies. Even NASA has it as standard kit on their space missions since the Gemini days. Engineers and astronauts have used it in many emergencies. Remember the almost disastrous Apollo 13 mission?”
Daniel nodded. “Thanks, Doug. That makes me feel heaps better.”
“Well it should. They reckon the duct tape they had with them was one of the most important items that helped them fix their problems and save the lives of the three astronauts on board.”
“Okay, I guess if duct tape is good enough for Formula One race cars and NASA’s spacecraft, it’s good enough for the Rossler Foundation’s old helicopter,” Daniel gibed.
They undertook a quick inspection of the rest of both port and starboard engines before they took off again.
As soon as they were at cruise level again, Doug spoke to them all. “Guys I don’t want to borrow trouble, but I have to be honest with you. I don’t trust this chopper to take us all the way. Those hoses are old and dilapidated. Any one or more of them can burst at any moment. We might not be so lucky to pick it up, as we just did, before an engine is damaged. We have to start thinking about alternatives if the worst case scenario happens.”
“If one engine blows midflight can we still fly on the remaining one?” Mark asked, sounding a bit worried.
Doug explained, “We won’t drop out of the sky, if that’s what you are worried about. As long as one engine remains in operation we could still fly. However, there is a ‘but‘ in that statement.
“Without boring you all with technical jargon, of which I only have a limited understanding in any event, these aircraft were built to handle situations like that. It boils down to the fact that the healthy engine, if we can call either of these engines healthy, will produce emergency power up to one hundred and thirty percent or more of its normal power to compensate for the inoperative engine.
“On the other hand, you have to understand that operating on hundred and thirty percent of normal power will put a lot of load on the operative engine, and obviously that won’t be sustainable for an extended period of time. In other words, we won’t be able to fly more than 50 or so miles on one engine. In fact, with our current load I would pretty much only be able to sit us down safely, and the bad news is that once we’ve landed there’s no way I’ll be able to get us back in the air again with this load.“
Roy, more technically minded than any of the rest, said, “The way I see it, there are two things we can do to try and prevent engine failure. One is to slow down to a cruise speed that puts the least amount of stress on the engines but keeps us airborne. And the other is to make regular stops to inspect the engines and fix problems, to try and prevent a small problem from becoming bigger.”
They all agreed, and Doug immediately reduced the cruise speed as suggested. He agreed to make a stop every forty minutes for preventative inspection of the engines.
Tell us what is going on
The men were some miles northwest of Durango when Daniel had a lightbulb moment, which found quick approval from everyone.
“While looking at the map of where we are about now, I saw that we’re approaching Montrose County. Raj and I have an old colleague and good friend from the New York Times living there on a farm in the mountains about 15 miles outside a little town called Nucla.
“Ah, of course. Owen Bell! That crazy guy who worked the astronomy beat and got married to the girl with the beautiful legs and short skirts! Can’t remember her name,” said Raj. “I heard he moved from New York to a small town.”
“My memory is much better than yours Raj,” Daniel smiled. “But then it could be because Sarah and I stayed in touch with them and visited each other regularly. Let me fill you all in. The girl with the short skirts’ name is Alison, and she’s a very nice person. I won’t elaborate on the legs and skirts.”
“So what are you saying, Daniel? Should we go there?” Doug inquired.
“No, not yet. I just think maybe we divert a little west of our current course and head for Nucla as a plan-B type of thing. It could be easier to reach Owen, who can help us if we have serious engine trouble.”
“That makes sense. But are you absolutely one hundred percent sure you can trust this guy?” Mark asked.
“Yes unequivocally. He’s a big prankster sometimes, but he’s a good and loyal friend, and he’d do anything to help his friends, even if he had to do it with his hands tied behind his back. I also include Alison in that trust. What do you say Raj? You knew them when we worked at the Times.”
“You know me. I am a little bit paranoid,” Raj said.
Daniel interrupted him when everyone who knew Raj started laughing. “Only a little bit, Raj?”
That was the understatement of the year. Anyone who knew Raj for more than a few hours also knew he was the embodiment of paranoia.
“Okay, okay. Maybe a bit more than a little then,” Raj conceded. “But what I was about to say was that I was not as close to Owen and Alison as you and Sarah were. But there is nothing that makes me nervous about them. In any event, we don’t have much of a choice if we have a breakdown. Owen is the only person we know nearby, now.”
They all agreed, and Doug made a change in course, which would take them closer to Nucla.
“Daniel, do you know where the farm is and what it looks like there? I mean can we land there and can we hide the chopper if necessary?” Mark asked.
“Yes, Sarah and I have been there a few times. I will get it on the map for you. From memory, the farm is about 300 acres. Owen and Alison call it their hideaway in the mountains. It is isolated, not much farming activities going on, most of the farm and surrounding area is covered in scrub oak. There’s a beautiful house and a log cabin on the property, as well as a few sheds. Provided we can reach the farm, it will be the safest place for us that I can think of if we get more trouble in the next hour or so.”
Max wanted to know how Owen
ended up in this neck of the woods. Daniel explained that since he met Owen quite a few years ago, Owen had always talked about the day when he made his fortune. How he was going to buy himself a farm in the San Juan Mountains and sit there and enjoy life.
“He made his small fortune shortly after I left the Times, when he self-published a series of sci-fi novels about some weird interplanetary alien race and their adventures. His books got very popular and were on the Times’ bestseller list, USA Today and a few others, for many months. By the time, he published his third novel in the series one of the big Hollywood filmmakers had noticed him and bought the movie rights for the series. He also got a very lucrative contract with a well-known publisher. He never mentioned to me how much he got for the film rights, but Alison slipped it to Sarah that he got about $15 million.”
“Shit, I could get used to that sort of money with no effort very quickly,” Max, said in a serious tone that had them all bursting into laughter.
“Okay guys, time for an engine check,” Doug brought them back to reality.
Daniel’s idea to head for Nucla turned out to be prophetical when they landed and checked the engines. They found new leaks, this time on both engines. Again, the duct tape came to the rescue. However, they knew they were fighting a losing battle. It was just a matter of time before one or both engines would be gone.
They got airborne again and headed for the farm, which was about 30 miles away. About 10 miles from the farm, all hell broke loose. Red lights flickered on the control panel and a deafening alarm sounded. Doug, cool as a cucumber, informed them that the port side engine was gone completely. They were on one engine now.
“We’re ten miles away, but I am afraid we might not make it all the way. I’m going to keep up a gentle push and get as close as I can. I’m slowing down and will drop closer to the ground. Buckle up in case we have to make an emergency landing. It might be bumpy.”