Counterpoint
Page 15
She protested, “You can’t fly it!”
“We can’t stay here, either,” he shouted back. “I bet that’s Philippe’s men down there. He wouldn’t let us off the hook even if he gets the statuette, so take a chance with me!”
She was not convinced, but could not think of any alternative.
The crew was still getting their guns, and Collins could be killed, at any time, she thought.
Max climbed into the helicopter and assessed the controls. They were the similar as those in the Organisation’s machine, and he knew what they did. The skill was to treat them gently and take things steady.
Max advanced the throttle and would have waited longer for the higher rotor speed, but Collins was now directing a few shots in his direction whilst holding back, Philippe’s men.
Max pulled up hard on the collective, and the machine lifted. Unfortunately, the engine torque caused the helicopter to spin wildly as it climbed. The ship and sea whizzed around him, and he started to panic. He focused his eyes on the instruments in front of him, then gradually turned the joystick until the spinning slowed. He was still climbing rapidly, but he must control one thing at a time. The spinning stopped and then started spinning the other way, so he turned the stick back a little and controlled the direction as needed.
Way, way below, he could make out the ship and the distant islands. He eased the collective down slightly and according to the altimeter, they were no longer climbing. Next, he looked for the ship and from its position guessed the course to Malé. He now eased the joystick forward very slightly whilst adjusting his heading. As the forward speed, gradually picked up, he noticed his height was dropping. Still, he had a long way to go down before he needed to worry, so he waited to see where it would level out.
Now everything was stable, he concentrated on maintaining his course until he could see the detail of Malé take shape in the distance.
Carla had not uttered a word. Now was not the time to have a blazing row, “best wait till we are nice and safe on the ground,” she thought “then he’s really going to get it!”
Max eased back on the stick, adjusted for heading, and lowered the collective in a series of extremely small movements until they were relatively low over the water and slowly moving forward. The only clear space to land was a wide expanse of car park on the seafront. Darkness would soon descend on them so landing would have to be there, whilst he could still see. He looked out for street lamps, trees, poles, or wires that could foul the rotor blades, but everything was clear where he was aiming for. Some people looked up out of curiosity at the awkwardly moving machine, but wisely kept away.
“The moment of truth’” muttered Max. “Just take it steady and it should be fine.”
Hovering over the chosen spot was extremely tricky; stopping the helicopter from spinning this way and that was a nightmare. Gradually he lowered the collective and the closer he came to landing. He thought he was hovering over one spot, but the ground seemed to slide around under him causing him to make constant correction.
He was within a few feet of the ground when he felt he had lost control. He just could not keep the damn thing stable over the spot he wanted, he was moving about at 15 kilometres an hour in every direction.
He reached down and closed the throttle causing the machine to drop rapidly with a bone-jarring jolt onto its skids. Friction between the skids and road rapidly overcame the sideways spinning motion, and it came to a halt.
Max cut the engine. As the engine and rotor noise died away, the crowd that had gathered, closed in on them.
It was obvious to the crowd that the pilot was incompetent, and he could not leave the helicopter parked in the road, so they surged forward shouting and clamouring.
“Time to leave my love,” Max urged to a stunned Carla.
Stepping coolly out Max spotted a hefty young lad, swept towards him by the angry crowd. Max reached into his pocket and pulled out coins and dollars. He held up some notes and beckoned the lad towards him. “Do you speak English?” Max asked him.
“Yes, ” he replied.
Max gave him the notes and said, “Carry our cases to a taxi quickly!” He caught on immediately with the money in his fist and dashed to grab the luggage. Max threw the rest of the money downwind into the crowd, and they went berserk chasing after it. Max caught hold of the precious box and moved briskly away.
“We can get a taxi if we go up here,” the lad said. He led them in the direction of a side street.
“OK, we’ll follow you!” Said Max.
A few moments later, they came into a main street, and the lad hailed a battered old car that was coming towards them.
“This is a friend of mine,” he said to Max. “He will take you to where you want to go.”
Max and Carla looked inquiringly at each other, wondering if the old banger would make it to the water taxi jetty on the other side of the island, then clambered in.
The lad put their cases in the boot and hopped in the front passenger seat. “My friend doesn’t speak English,” he said. “Where do you want to go?”
“We need a water taxi to get to the airport, so please take us to one.” The lad did a translation and the old car rumbled forward as the crowd from the helicopter came running towards them. “Phew! That was close,” said Carla.
“Which bit,” smiled Max.
“All of it, you crazy fool! I’ve never been so scared in all my life,” she screeched.
“Well, it’s better than being dead,” retorted Max and she calmed down a bit.
***
Philippe saw the crazy way the helicopter took off. He thought the pilot had been wounded as he lifted off. As a superb pilot himself, he believed a crash into the sea was only moments away. He had lost the statuette again. By the time he could dive on it and recover the box, the aviation crash investigators would be crawling all over the wreck, so it was out of his reach, again!
He told his remaining men, “pull back, and let’s get out of here.”
He called up his own pilot to airlift them off his escaping cruiser before the authorities could catch up with them.
***
Collins knew the helicopter was not being controlled by a qualified pilot, he had just shot him. He could not believe anyone would dare to try to fly it unless they knew what they were doing. He had been told it was easier to balance a ball on another ball than fly a helicopter. The way the machine was spinning it was totally out of control and was bound to crash any moment. He saw the statuette slip from his grasp the same way Philippe had.
Collins next problem was how to escape with his life, caught between Philippe and the armed crew.
Philippe’s men stopped firing, and moments later, the cruiser roared away from the ship. Collins leapt over the side of the ship into the sea before anyone could stop him. They never saw him surface and assumed he had drowned. Collins lay on the far side of his water-filled launch, under the curve of its hull, out of sight. As night fell, he climbed up the anchor chain and unseen, hid aboard the ship.
The Captain reported back to The Organisation and was surprised to learn that Carla had already done so. He could not believe they had been able to land safely. What a lucky couple he thought, did not even say goodbye!
“What about the authorities?” Asked Captain Steel, “How do you want me to deal with that?”
"No problem," said Sam Leighton “Say you were boarded by pirates.”
“What about the dead pilot and his stolen helicopter?” Persisted Steel. “Max’s prints will be all over the helicopter.”
“Well they might find them, but I bet everyone in the area climbed all over the machine, so I doubt they will bother to dust for them.” Sam added, “You don’t even need to mention Carla and Max were aboard.”
“OK!” Said Steel, “I’ll play it that way then.”
Captain Steel called the authorities and they confirmed they were already on their way. The owner of the abandoned helicopter was told by the Police whe
re it had landed, and they were now looking into its theft.
***
It was an immense relief, when Max and Carla boarded The Organisation’s executive jet; they felt safe at last. Carla put her arms around Max’s neck and hugged him hard. “Thanks for getting us out from that mess,” she said softly. “I know we would have died at Philippe’s hand, if he had caught us. I know my death would have been slow and painful, I don’t know why, but he certainly doesn’t like me.” Then she sniggered and gave her cheekiest grin.
Max joked, “Knowing you, you would have claimed to have discovered he was really your father, and charmed your way out!”
“God, how awful, I can’t bear to imagine being a child of his. He is pure evil. That would be bad seed,” she said.
Max pondered, “I wonder what brought Stan Peters into the equation? If it hadn’t been for him trying to make off with the helicopter, we would have been well away by the time Philippe arrived on the scene.”
“Perhaps he was sent by the buyer of the statuette to recover it,” replied Carla. “I can’t think of anyone else who would chase after it. Mind you!” She added, “If he hadn’t kept Philippe at bay, we wouldn’t have got away. I wonder how he escaped from the storeroom?” she went on. “Must be a slippery character I reckon.”
“Well the crew are not trained to be guards, so I wouldn’t credit him with too much skill and cunning,” concluded Max.
Carla silently held her opinion about Stan Peters; she knew the type extremely well and wondered if their paths would ever cross again. Men like that do not just give up at the first setback.
She also thought Max was getting a bit out of character, as well. He was no cunning fox like Philippe or Peters, though he was acting as if he had saved the world. She did not like this new Max very much.
Chapter - The mummy.
As soon as they boarded The Organisation’s Lear Jet, the flight attendant seated them and prepared some refreshment. They studied the brief about the urgent mission Sam Leighton had just given them.
The assignment was apparently straightforward, and their involvement was possibly unnecessary, but The Organisation knew best and did not waste money.
Sam wrote:
“I want you both to go to the address below, in Cairo. Meet Professor Rubin and he will teach you everything you need to know about Egypt, in the context of this task. He is an authority on ancient Egypt as well as the current political climate. He is one of us, but be careful what you say about things here, that do not concern him. No need to be secretive with him though.”
“He will go with you to a construction project of ours out in the desert called the C.N.W.D. Corporation. It is an extension to a chemical and nuclear waste storage and disposal plant. There is a vast solar array there large enough to be visible from the moon. Other development will transform the desert around it into a fertile area growing crops and producing electrical energy.”
“The resident firm of architects and engineers are unaware that during excavation they may have uncovered some archaeological site. Peter Gibson, our resident project manager for the site phoned in the problem to us 12 hours ago, and he stopped work on the pretext of a labour dispute. Nothing distracts the attention of the workforce quicker than the chance of more pay.
If it is the case that some tomb or other has been unearthed, we do not want anyone else to hear of it, particularly the Authorities, until we have evaluated the implications. The pay dispute will turn out to be a misunderstanding and work will restart after the weekend.
Max, because you know about construction, you will be seen to take an interest in the progress of the scheme with a view to reporting to the shareholders. However, I want your opinion as to how to handle the problem, whatever it is. I obviously do not want the other technical staff involved yet, or the problem will soon be common knowledge, and we will not be able to control the situation.
If this is some tomb or Egypt sensitive problem, Professor Rubin will advise you accordingly.
Carla, you are in charge because you are familiar with how we work. Being so young and attached to Max, you will pass as his personal assistant. You will also be able to pick up any gossip amongst staff indicating a leak of information. Professor Rubin may be recognised, he will be known to the shareholders as the political advisor.
Your bags have been packed with all you will need and are on the Lear.
A car will meet you when you land and take you to Professor Rubin.
Tomorrow evening a car will collect you all and take you to Giza where a helicopter will take you out into the desert, to the site. Then you are on your own. Contact me with the enclosed Satellite phone, as necessary.
Good luck,
Signed Sam Leighton.
The luxuriously appointed aircraft was rather small inside, but a fantastic way to travel.
The flight was exciting for Max, because of the novelty, but actually uneventful. All stages of the journey went according to Sam’s briefing, and they eventually arrived at the hotel in Cairo to meet Professor Rubin.
The hotel room he was staying in was small and drab, like the hotel itself. Important people go to posh hotels and attract attention. He was not an attention seeker anyway, so The Organisation’s choice of accommodation pleased him. It was spotlessly clean, and the food was exceptional.
The Professor was ushering a young girl out of his room as they arrived. He was obviously embarrassed because she was not room service, or at least not a service provided by the hotel!
Max and Carla glanced at each other and smiled.
The Professor was in his early fifties, average height, and slim build. He seemed a physical type rather than an academic and did not wear glasses or apparently, contact lenses. Handy for a dusty environment thought Max.
Max also thought he was ugly, but Carla said he had the look that turned women on.
They greeted each other, went into his room, and sat down.
“Your room is next to mine,” said Rubin. “The bell boy will take your things there, but in the meantime, we must get down to business, time is very short.”
The current political climate was explained, and various scenarios were explored that could explain the problem on site. Obviously no in depth analysis was possible at that stage, it would have to be done, when they saw the excavation.
Next morning at 5.00am they had arrived at Giza. The Toyota Land Cruiser drove off the road and out towards the desert. Within a few hundred yards of the road, a small Bell helicopter dropped from the sky and landed, rotors slowing to a stop. The three of them got out and dashed to the waiting craft. The driver followed up immediately with the three bags of luggage. As soon as the cabin door closed, the craft started up and soon climbed straight up into the clear sky, leaving the small sand storm it created, to gradually clear.
The pilot phoned ahead to advise Gibson of their E.T.A. so he could meet them away from prying eyes, out in the desert.
Gibson’s air-conditioned Land Cruiser picked them up two miles out from the site and drove them in. It was now 6.15am Saturday morning; the site was deserted, so they headed directly for the excavation.
Carla expected a hole in the ground like on an archaeological dig. Max, on the other hand, had expected trenches or ground clearance. In fact, the excavation was a deep , shear sided pit in the ground, some 15metres deep, each side of the square being 1Km long. A truly enormous project, no wonder it would be visible from outer space.
The soft surface sand had been cleared away down to a hard sandstone base and levelled perfectly flat. The new building was to sit inside the square, and this was the basement level.
Peter Gibson explained a grading machine was clearing the final area when the blade ripped into a stone structure, possibly the top of a stone tunnel. He just happened to see the enormous vehicle lurch over the unyielding obstruction and went to investigate. At a glance, he could see it was man made, but told the driver he had hit a rock. He then instructed the driver to return imm
ediately to the plant repair shop, for repairs. To distract the driver, he asked if he had heard of the pay dispute, demanding higher pay for his team. With that, the driver did not even step down from his cab; he drove away with just pay on his mind.
No one spoke as the Land Cruiser drove down the ramp into the excavation. Once on the level Peter Gibson handed the Professor a piece of stone broken off by the grader. Rubin commented, “Without doubt the fragment was shaped by man; two sides of the fragment form a right angle and had grooves where it had been tooled by a stone mason. Judging from the absence of wear on the stone from sand storms, it certainly wasn’t an exposed piece.” The Professor handed it to Max, who agreed with the Professor’s initial comments.
Several minutes later, the vehicle stopped at a gouged stone slab, slightly protruding above the otherwise flat ground. “Here we are then,” said Peter.
They all scrambled out to see the anomaly and eagerly scraped the sand away with their hands, until Peter produced three shovels.
After 15 minutes digging, the appearance of the stonework suggested a square section tunnel, about 1.5m wide, running downwards into the ground at 20 degrees, with a thick, vertical stone slab covering the entrance. Leading up to the entrance of the tunnel, was a 3-metre square patch of soil, different in colour and texture to the surrounding hard sandstone, it also contained chunks of sandstone. The Professor explained; this had been a deep pit from ground level, through the softer sand, down to this sandstone layer. On completion of the work, it had been back filled with a mixture of excavated material. This was the entrance to a hidden tomb!
The stone slabs forming the roof of the tunnel, probably came from a large, low plateau a few miles away, and as they were small pieces of only several tons each, relatively easily transported.
“We will have to get inside,” said the Professor, positively itching to explore this awesome discovery.
“I anticipated that,” said Peter. “Take me back and I will bring back an excavator, you can return with the Land Cruiser.”