Ray looked down on the activity despondently, scowling as the welder moved to the rear strut to complete the repair that would make the helicopter fully operational again. He took some satisfaction from the fact that the workman seemed to be having problems in positioning himself to complete the repair, remembering the difficulty he had experienced himself by being too close to the fuselage. Finally the mechanic ended up flat on his back to weld in the overhead position.
Hope he burns himself to death, Ray thought, watching morbidly as the welding torch forced molten metal to drip dangerously close to the face of the prone welder. Suddenly the man convulsed, jerking his head to one side and throwing his arms across his face as a huge white-hot blob of metal exploded like lava under the pressurised flame of his torch. The searing flame scorched across the underside of the helicopter, destroying aluminium fuselage like thin ice in a furnace and atomising a fragile fuel pipe with the power of a space age laser beam.
Ray leapt to his feet as a jet of flame erupted under the helicopter. He saw the welder abandon his torch and race for his life as blazing flames spread quickly across the belly of the machine. Even in the lounge the yells could be heard as men shouted for fire-fighting equipment. But it was too late. Akaba screamed an order and the convoy accelerated clear as flames totally engulfed the doomed machine.
The explosion sent a black pall of smoke and whirling debris skywards and spectators dived for the floor of the lounge. Ammunition from the helicopter’s ordnance exploded in all directions; tracer bullets leaving smoking trails against the blue sky, cannon shells pounding madly into the ground like demented pneumatic hammers as ricochets screeched through the smoke like banshees mourning the dead. Finally the explosions died away and all that could be heard was the roar of flames pushing a pillar of black smoke skywards in the windless air.
Stunned fight fans leapt to their feet, staring at the scene like unexpected spectators in a front-line trench. Through the torn veil of drifting smoke the distant wail of approaching fire tenders gradually grew loud.
In the tower, anxious air traffic controllers ordered flight GA 670 to orbit in the holding area and await further landing instructions.
26
When GA 670 finally landed, Colin found himself entering a lounge full of boisterously singing fight fans, the patriotic sea of red, white and blue regalia almost making him feel that he had gatecrashed a royal garden party!
His eyes swept the crowd, missing Doc and Ray the first time round, and for a moment he felt a surge of panic. Then he realised they would be wearing their smother and calmed himself, taking more time with his second scan of the room. This time, he located a serious-faced Doc staring at the incoming passengers and a worried looking Ray craning his neck, obviously expecting to see Bert. If he hadn’t known about their disguises he would never have recognised them. Both wore wigs, and Ray, like himself, had suddenly sprouted a thick moustache. Doc was the least recognisable; his dark head now covered by a thick thatch of fair hair, along with a bristling, military looking moustache above his upper lip that had transformed him into a typically belligerent looking English colonialist.
Colin was almost within speaking distance when the shocked expression on Ray’s face told him he had been recognised.
‘What the …’ Ray looked stunned. ‘What are you doing here?’ he blurted out, obviously shocked to see Colin in front of him.
‘Long story,’ Colin mouthed back at him before nodding in the direction of the Gents and carrying on through the throng, leaving a worried-looking Ray to follow him inside.
‘What happened out there?’ Colin asked quietly. ‘All that smoke and fire … Was there an accident?’
‘You could say that,’ Ray smiled. ‘They were doing some work on the helicopter when all hell broke loose. One second they were working away then suddenly the thing went up in smoke. Within a minute it blew sky high. It’s a wonder no one was killed.’
‘The chopper’s gone?’ Colin gasped. ‘Jesus, what a result! Looks like we’re on!’
‘Yeah, I’d say that’s a definite,’ Ray agreed. ‘Things are definitely back on track. But what the hell are you doing here?’ Ray hissed, keeping his voice low. ‘What the fuck’s happened to Bert?’
‘He had an accident,’ Colin told him in a low voice. ‘There’s no way he could board the plane the state his face is in. I’m taking his place; he’s doing my job on the ground.’
‘You’re going to do a jump! Jesus! Do you think you can handle it?’
Colin looked him in the eye. ‘I talked all of you into this so it’s my responsibility and I’m not scrubbing things now.’ He stared into Ray’s anxious face. ‘We’ve all put too much into it. So if things have worked out here I’m going to make the jump. That’s a definite, and nothing’s going to stop me from trying.’
A cubicle door opened behind them and they slipped into the vacant toilet together.
‘But you’ve never even trained,’ Ray said, shaking his head. ‘You would be risking your life.’
‘Bert and Doc were prepared to do it,’ Colin reminded him. ‘Sure, they did a quick course, but they had to do a first jump too, and even Bert said it was a piece of cake.’
‘Well …’ Ray looked doubtful. ‘If you’ve got the confidence you should be fine. But what if you freeze up? Don’t make the pull?’
‘I’ll make the pull,’ Colin nodded. ‘My fucking life will depend on it! So don’t you worry, I’ll make the pull all right.’
‘You’re sure of this, Colin?
‘I’d sooner it was Bert than me,’ Colin admitted. ‘But he’s out of it and I’m in. Everything’s set up and I’ve made up my mind.’ Colin passed over one of the replica guns. ‘Give this to Doc. I’ve still got yours on the plane and I’ll pass it to you when we get on board.’
‘Good idea,’ Ray praised him as he pushed the gun into his belt, under the loose jacket he was wearing. He posed, his arms by his sides. ‘Look all right?’
Colin examined the line of Ray’s jacket, giving it a tug to pull the front a little closer together. ‘Fine. Just don’t let it flap open.’
‘You’ve managed to get me a seat up front?’
‘Row one. You can press your feet against the cockpit door if you like.’
‘That’s good.’
‘What about the mob out there?’ Colin asked. ‘I hope to fuck we’re not going to be lumbered with a planeload of drunks. Could be very dodgy that.’
‘Nah,’ Ray assured him. ‘We’re on a scheduled service. Probably get one or two on board our plane, but most of them are booked on specials.’
‘Better get moving.’ Impatient hands were pushing at the toilet door. ‘These guys outside will think we’re a couple of gayboys.’
Back in the lounge, Ray slipped the replica gun to Doc and explained what had happened as he checked the scene outside. The Dakota was well within his field of vision and he just couldn’t help the satisfied smile that crossed his face as he watched the ground crew hurriedly unloading seats through its passenger door.
Ray looked at Doc, then over at Colin, who had moved to get a better view from the window, where he could watch the operation as the armoured van backed up to the aircraft’s steps. Five minutes later the van pulled away, leaving only the soldiers and the gun-mounted Land Rover on guard. Their collective concentration was broken by the crackling Tannoy announcement: ‘Will all passengers on flight GA 670 to Accra please board the aircraft immediately. Flight GA 670 to Accra is now boarding at Gate Number One.’
*
The plane’s captain was busy with Akaba, checking the wooden boxes, when Ray squeezed past, carefully turning his head away to avoid any direct looks from them, but his heart pounded with excitement at his first sight of the prize. He tried a quick count of the boxes as he went by, but bending bodies obscured his view and he could not afford to linger.
Colin slipped past as Akaba bent to inspect a seal on one of the boxes and closed up behind Ray, speaking s
oftly, so as not to attract attention. ‘Our seats are in the front row on the right. I left the bags on them in case someone tried to step in.’
‘That’s fine,’ Ray muttered, sneaking a look behind. ‘Doc’s just moved into a seat at the back and both stewardesses are busy in the galley behind him. Everything’s looking good. I reckon it’s a go.’ They settled into their seats, sitting in a tense, almost self-conscious silence as the other passengers filed aboard.
The activity in the centre of the plane ended with the pilot signing a receipt and suddenly Judas Akaba was standing in the plane’s exit, looking sternly at the sergeant and private soldier detailed to guard the gold. He gave a last lingering look down the length of the cabin as if to reassure himself, then his swagger stick rose to touch his cap as the plane’s captain politely ushered him outside. A dull thud was heard as the door thumped tightly shut, cutting off all external noise.
With the door closed, the scene outside took on the surreal quality of a silent ballet as Akaba appeared and twelve pairs of army issue boots stamped soundlessly into the tarmac, bringing their owners smartly to attention. Sweat stood out on Colin’s forehead as he watched. Why didn’t the engines start? Did someone suspect something? Perhaps someone in the toilets spotted us and became suspicious? He turned his head, looking for support. But Ray was looking composed, sitting comfortably in his seat. Colin’s face was pale as one of the stewardesses made a final seat belt check, moving towards the small galley at the rear of the plane and the jump seat beside her colleague, ready for take off.
A thump sounded through the plane and for a moment Colin thought the door was being opened again. But no, he settled back as the port engine kicked over a second time before settling into an even roar. In a minute the second engine burst into healthy-sounding life and the aircraft vibrated with power. Then the brakes were released and the plane rolled smoothly forward.
‘We’re off then?’ Colin’s voice was strained.
‘Just about,’ Ray’s voice reached him. ‘We’re just taxi-ing out. Did you see the stuff?’
‘Yeah. It’s there all right,’ Colin said. Then … ‘Christ!’ The plane dipped to a sudden halt and he pressed his cheek against the window, craning his neck to look backwards. ‘What is it?’ What the fuck have we stopped for?’
The plane’s engines rose to a crescendo of screaming sound then died to a whisper before returning to an even roar again. Ray looked at Colin. ‘It’s only checks,’ he said. ‘Routine power checks.’
‘Everything’s okay?’ Colin whispered back. ‘Nothing to hold us up?’
‘Everything is A-okay,’ Ray assured him as the plane began to roll again. ‘We’ll be lining-up now, waiting for take-off clearance.’
There was no mistaking the surge of power that catapulted the Dakota down the runway, or the sudden change when the rumbling, lurching motion altered into smooth flowing movement as the aircraft lifted off and found its element.
Colin looked at his watch – 4.20. If Ray had calculated correctly they would reach the turn-off point in eighteen minutes. But they were running more than an hour late. He wondered what Bert would think when they didn’t show up on schedule. Surely he would wait a while.
Colin casually turned his head and let his eyes flick over the soldiers, wincing inwardly at the sight of stubby barrelled Uzi sub-machine guns lying easily across their knees – Jesus Christ! Where were the Lee-Enfields … the unloaded ‘frighteners’ he had been so positive about? The helicopter! That was it! They had intended using the helicopter right up until the fire and there had been no time to reorganise the soldier’s hardware. Instead of useless, empty rifles the escort now had the massive firepower of modern nine-millimetre machine guns. The replica in Colin’s pocket suddenly felt puny, the taking of the plane had become infinitely more dangerous. He studied the rest of the passengers. They were all men, the majority of them well into middle age. Steady-looking people, people sensible enough to avoid heroics. Except for the soldiers, the job should be a doddle. He pressed his arm against the gun in his side pocket, as if seeking reassurance, and knew that neutralising the soldiers hard and fast would be the key.
Doc was sitting in an aisle seat right at the back of the cabin when Colin passed him and entered the toilet. He leant back against the door of the claustrophobic cubicle and closed his eyes. First the helicopter, now two heavily armed soldiers and himself subbing for Bert. He gave serious consideration to calling the job off – it always had been a last-minute option. But striking out went against the grain. The helicopter had been a stroke of bad luck, but then again, somehow or other the game had turned for them; maybe the job was starting to go their way. What if the soldiers did have guns? he asked himself – They didn’t suspect anything, and up until recently the escort job had always been a soft, regular weekly duty – something of a skive in fact. But even though they were trained men, an actual hijack would be the last thing on their minds. And trained men wouldn’t argue with what they thought were loaded guns, especially when innocent civilians were involved. A firm hand, along with the element of surprise was all that was needed here. Colin was confident he could handle things, but did he have the right to jeopardise the lives of Ray and Doc and everybody else on board the plane too, for that matter? He took out the replica gun from his pocket and pulled the trigger. The hammer fell with an emphatic click, like a full stop to his doubts, and he made up his mind. They might have to make slight alterations to the plan, but they were going ahead. A smiling stewardess made way for him as he returned to his seat.
‘How’d it look?’ Ray whispered as Colin settled down beside him.
‘Couldn’t expect much better,’ he said convincingly. ‘As far as the passengers go anyway. They all look too sensible to start anything and the stewardesses are busy in the galley. The squaddies ignored me when I walked past them but they could still be a bit tasty; seems they’ve swapped the Lee-Enfields for machine guns. But then again, they won’t be expecting anything to go wrong. So as long as we act hard and fast we should catch them napping.’
‘Right … Especially when they see the size of our shooters.’ Ray nudged him and grinned wickedly. ‘It’ll be a straight case of hands up and don’t shoot me, Kameraden.’
‘Yeah, as long as it’s properly handled,’ Colin agreed.
‘What d’you mean?’
‘They might feel obliged to put on a show, offer some resistance. Next thing some of the passengers could join in and bingo! We’ve got a problem.’
‘There’s always the chance of a problem,’ Ray admitted. ‘But our guns really look the business, Colin, and I can’t see the squaddies arguing with them; especially on an aircraft.’ He seemed to think for a moment or two before speaking again. ‘You know, I think it would be better if I actually took on the soldiers myself,’ Ray told him. ‘I have a better idea than you or Doc on how they’ll react, and it’s not a big change in the plan. You only have to take over from me when I bring the crew out of the cockpit. I’ll have the plane on automatic pilot by then and that will leave me free to tackle the soldiers.’
‘Don’t you have to stay in the cockpit?’ Colin looked at him doubtfully. ‘Surely you have to keep control of the plane?’
‘I told you, the plane will be on automatic pilot and once that’s set up it’ll fly itself. You only have to take control of the crew when I bring them out of the cockpit, then I’ll neutralise the soldiers. It’ll happen so fast they won’t know what hit them.’
‘As long as you’re sure,’ Colin said, looking serious. ‘Once it’s started I’ll do whatever’s needed to pull it off.’
‘Okay then, we handle it my way,’ Ray told him. ‘You take over control of the crew and leave the soldiers to me.’
‘Right,’ Colin nodded. ‘I’ll do that. But what about Doc, will he be all right?
‘Doc will be fine. His job stays the same and he knows what to do when things kick off.’
‘And you think you’ll be okay in there?’
Colin’s eyes flashed to the cockpit door.
‘Don’t worry about me,’ Ray said. ‘Things are in my favour. The pilot’s first consideration is always the safety of his passengers. He definitely won’t give any trouble if I show I mean business.’
‘There’s two of them.’
‘All the same. They won’t take any chances if they think I’ve got a loaded gun at their heads.’ Ray looked at his watch: twelve minutes since take-off. He reached into a pocket and withdrew a black hooded mask and for about five seconds sat perfectly still, steeling himself. Then he spoke quietly. ‘I want you to stand in the aisle and mess about in the luggage rack, give me a bit of cover in case the squaddies are looking this way.’ He waited until Colin’s body blocked the aisle, then took a deep breath.
‘Here goes, mate. It’s boom or bust time now!’ He stood up and calmly moved towards the cockpit door. The handle turned easily and he stepped inside, allowing the door to close behind him as he slipped the hood over his head.
Holding his breath, Colin fiddled in the luggage rack and watched the cabin door. After a minute had passed he knew it was all right and sank back into his seat.
Captain Okebo Udeh abandoned his usual welcoming smile when he realised that the intruder was one of the passengers and not, as he had expected, the stewardess with his customary cup of coffee.
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