The Vets (Stephen Leather Thrillers)

by Stephen Leather

  “Right gentlemen, let’s get them inside,” said Tyler. Horvitz and Carmody carried one, Doherty and Lehman the second. Once inside they put them down on the floor next to the worktables.

  “Can you open them, Eric?” asked Tyler, handing a crowbar to Horvitz. Horvitz nodded and forced the end of the crowbar in the edge of one of the crates and forced the wood up with a splintering sound. He used his hands to tear away a piece of wood, revealing straw packing underneath. He pushed it aside, reached in and pulled out an assault rifle.

  “Jesus, an M16,” said Carmody.

  “Four M16s, actually,” said Michael Wong. He had brought a large black briefcase with him from the van. “Ammunition, too. And you’ll find tear-gas canisters and smoke and stun grenades in there.”

  “Everything we need for a party,” said Horvitz.

  “Let’s do it over here,” Tyler said to Wong. The two men went over to the wall near the workbenches, where Wong put down his briefcase and popped its combination locks.

  “Gather round, gentlemen,” said Tyler, as Wong began taking out two cardboard tubes from the case. He unscrewed the caps and slid out a series of charts and photographs. He pinned them up on the wall with small thumbtacks as the vets stood around him in a tight semi-circle. One was an aeronautical chart centred around Kai Tak Airport, another was a large-scale street map of Kowloon and Hong Kong Island. Lehman studied the chart carefully as Wong took several large glossy colour photographs out of one of the tubes. He pinned up a series of photographs which had obviously been taken from a plane showing the airport, Kowloon, the island, and several of the Happy Valley racetrack. Below them he lined up another series of pictures, all ground-level views of the racetrack, some of them close-ups of the grandstand.

  “Gentlemen, we have now reached the point where I can reveal the full details of the operation,” said Tyler, as Wong stood to the side of the pictures and maps, his arms folded across his chest. “I am sorry you have been in the dark for so long, but I’m sure you can understand the reason for secrecy. You will hear tomorrow that the Shatin racecourse was damaged in an arson attack. You’ll probably see it on your television sets if you’re not out celebrating in the seamy bars of Wan Chai.” The vets nodded. Tyler had brought in two portable colour televisions in an attempt to alleviate their boredom during the periods when they weren’t required to work on the Huey. “Mr Wong here, you might have guessed, will be responsible for the closure of the racetrack, and the subsequent switching of the last race of the season to the Happy Valley track on the island.” Tyler looked pointedly at Lehman. “Because the Shatin video screen will also be damaged in the attack tonight, there will be no video link between the two tracks, which means that all the high rollers will be going to Happy Valley on Sunday. It’s going to be a record take, and we’re going to be the beneficiaries. I haven’t discussed with you the details of the operation before, partly because we were still in the process of finalising the arrangements. An important component of the operation involves assistance from within the Jockey Club, and for that we have to thank Mr Wong here. He has in place a number of his people who will be working as tellers and supervisors on Sunday. They will give us the access we need. You gentlemen will enable us to get the money out. It will be a very profitable combination, I can assure you.”

  Both he and Wong smiled.

  “The timing of this operation will be the most important thing,” said Tyler. “The passage of money to and from the tellers is like the ebb and flow of the tides. Before each race money flows into the tills of the tellers, after the race it flows back to the winners, with the Jockey Club retaining its cut. It flows in, it flows out, with the Jockey Club retaining progressively more money as the meeting goes on. The amount of money in the tills reaches a peak just before the last race. If we move too soon, all the bets won’t be in. If we move too late, the tellers will have paid out to the winners. There are eight races scheduled for Sunday. Mr Wong’s men on the inside will admit members of his triad into the offices five minutes before race eight starts, but they will not move until the race has actually started and the horses are running. All eyes will be on the track, the betting halls should be practically deserted and anyone in there will be watching the race on the television screens. The men will hit each betting hall, take the money to the elevator, where they will transfer it to the roof of the grandstand. You gentlemen will leave the warehouse so that the Huey arrives at the track just after the race starts. Dan, the timing on this is going to be critical, so I want to go over the flight plan with you. We’ll get a full weather report on the day so that we know what sort of winds to expect. You’ll fly the Huey on one circuit around the field, dropping the smoke and stun grenades where they will cause maximum confusion. You’ll then fly to the top of the grandstand and pick up the money. Again, Dan, we’ll need to do the weight calculations beforehand so that we know how much we can take on board.”

  Lehman nodded in agreement.

  “Question, Colonel,” said Horvitz.

  “Yes, Eric?”

  “Do I gather that you won’t be flying with us?”

  “That’s affirmative. I’ll be at the track, helping Mr Wong here. I’ll RV with you on the roof of the grandstand. You’ll pick me up along with the cash.”

  Horvitz nodded.

  “Another question, Colonel,” said Lehman.

  Tyler raised an eyebrow and looked at him.

  “The guns,” said Lehman. “What are the guns for?”

  “For effect, Dan. I don’t expect them to be used. But we have to show that we mean business.”

  “So they won’t be fired?”

  “Not unless the Huey is fired upon,” said Tyler.

  “Is that likely?”

  “It’s unlikely in the extreme,” said Tyler. “The only weapons the guards have are shotguns, and beyond fifty feet they’re practically useless. They’re certainly not going to be able to bring down a Huey. Dan, we’re not trying to cause a bloodbath here. We want to get in and out with the minimum of trouble. You fly in, drop the smoke and stun grenades, you pick me up on the roof. Then we fly.”

  “To where?” asked Lehman.

  “I was coming to that,” said Tyler. “I want to go over the grandstand first. I don’t want the Huey actually to touch down; keep it in a hover about six inches to a foot above the surface. Here.” He pointed to one of the photographs of the grandstand. “This is where we’ll come out with the money. We’ll have packed it in canvas bags in the elevator. Larry, Eric and Bart, you’ll exit the helicopter and provide cover here, here and here.” He jabbed at the photograph three times. “I’ll have loaded the bags, with the help of two triad soldiers. I’ll then board the Huey, and the three of you join me, providing covering fire if necessary. Is that clear?”

  The vets nodded. Lehman heard Carmody’s claw click.

  “Our route after that will be due south, over the Peak, and down below Lamma Island.” He traced the route on one of the maps with his forefinger. “From here we’ll fly south-west for fifty klicks where we’ll RV with a ship, a freighter which will have a specially constructed landing ramp. Dan, you’ll land the Huey on the ship, we unload the cash, and then we push the Huey overboard. The ship will take us to Thailand, the captain is a friend of Josh’s. Josh will arrange for the Hong Kong dollars to be converted into any currency we wish. Gold even, if that’s what you prefer. Questions?”

  Carmody shook his head. Horvitz ran a hand through his beard. “What happens to the triad soldiers we leave behind?” asked Horvitz.

  Wong stepped forward. “The men we have on the inside will not be compromised,” he said quietly. “They will admit the armed Red Poles without being noticed.”

  “Red Poles?” said Horvitz, his brow furrowed.

  “Red Pole is the name we give to our triad fighters,” explained Wong. “They will be masked and they will wear overalls, no one will be able to identify them. Once they reach the elevator they will dispose of their overalls and
in their place they will wear police uniforms.”

  “I should have made that clear. I will also be wearing a uniform, that of an inspector in the Royal Hong Kong Police,” said Tyler. He smiled. “Please don’t shoot me by mistake.” He turned to Wong. “You have the uniform?”

  Wong nodded. “In the van,” he said. “I’ll give it to you before we leave.”

  “Any other questions?” asked Tyler.

  “I have some, but they apply mainly to our flight plan and to our loading,” said Lehman. “We’ll go over those tonight?”

  “That’s affirmative,” said Tyler. “And tonight we’ll also test the turbine. That okay with you, Bart?”

  “Fine, Colonel,” said Lewis. “Been looking forward to it.”

  “I think that brings this meeting to an end, gentlemen,” said Tyler. “I’ll leave these charts and photographs on the wall tonight for you to familiarise yourself with them.”

  Wong put his cardboard tubes back in his briefcase and relocked it. He said goodbye to the vets and wished them well, and then went out with Tyler. A few minutes later they heard the van start up. The vets studied the M16s as they waited for Tyler to return.

  “The good old poodle-shooter,” said Horvitz. He picked one up. “Never trusted them myself. They were always fouling unless you kept them spotless, and how could you keep them spotless in the jungle?”

  “What did you use, Eric?” asked Lewis.

  “An AK-47 usually,” said Horvitz, running a hand down the metal barrel. “That way, if the VC heard you firing, they figured it was one of their own. The AK-47 never jammed, even if you treated it like shit.” He turned to look at the men. “You know Mattel used to help make this weapon?” He raised his eyebrows. “You know, the company that made Hot Wheels and the Ken and Barbie dolls?”

  “Come on, Eric,” laughed Carmody. “That was just a rumour.”

  Horvitz shook his head. “Saw one myself, Larry, in 1972. Most M16s had the Colt logo, but I saw a couple of grunts who had M16s with the word Mattel in the centre of a serrated circle on the handgrip. Wasn’t a rumour, I saw it with my own eyes.”

  “Mattel, huh?” said Lewis. “Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?”

  Tyler returned, swinging the bunch of keys and holding a blue nylon suit-carrier which Lehman assumed contained the inspector’s uniform. “Everything okay?” said Tyler. “Anything you gentlemen didn’t want to ask in front of Mr Wong?”

  “It seems straightforward enough,” said Lehman.

  “We’re sure no one is going to get hurt?” said Doherty.

  “Chuck, you’ll be sitting up front with Dan. The only person you’ll hurt is yourself if you screw up on the controls.”

  Nobody else had any comments so Tyler said he wanted to test the Huey. “Dan, can you get ready? You’ll need a fire guard, right?”

  “Yeah, someone with a fire extinguisher. They’ll have to stand here, by the fuel filler, until we’re sure there’s no chance of a hot start.”

  “Bart, can you get that? There’s an extinguisher on the wall over there.” Lewis went over to get the red fire extinguisher. “Okay, I want us all to get into the back,” Tyler said to Horvitz and Carmody. “And you too, Bart, once the turbine is up and running. All four of us will be in the back to give Dan the feel of the weight. That okay with you, Dan?”

  “Sure, it’s a good idea,” said Lehman.

  He began to walk round on his pre-flight inspection, even though the Huey wasn’t going anywhere. He checked the left side of the helicopter, and knelt down to push the fuel-drain valve on the underside to check that there was no water in the fuel. He checked the tail rotor was free and then climbed up on to the top so that he could inspect the main rotor, the mast, the rotor hub, the swash plate, the transmission mounts and the control rods. He took extra care over the nut at the top of the mast. The Jesus nut, they called it, because if it failed it was all over. Only when he was completely satisfied did he climb down using the concealed foot holes next to the pilot’s door. Tyler took the crew chief’s seat just behind where the pilot and co-pilot would sit. Carmody and Horvitz sat at the back, facing forward. Lehman climbed into the pilot’s station and watched as Doherty swung awkwardly into the seat on his left. They both put on their helmets and nodded that they were ready. Doherty opened the operator’s manual and placed it on his lap.

  Lehman clicked the radio trigger switch on his cyclic with the index finger of his right hand. “You okay?” he asked through the headphones in Doherty’s helmet.

  Doherty clicked his radio mike on. “I’m fine,” he answered.

  “Okay,” said Lehman, “let’s rock and roll.”

  Doherty grinned and placed his finger on the manual. “Ext LTS switches,” he read.

  “Set,” said Lehman, flicking them into position.

  “Battery switch,” said Doherty.

  “On,” said Lehman, clicking the switch.

  “GPU.”

  “Connect for GPU start.”

  “Fuel switches,” said Doherty.

  “Set,” said Lehman.

  “Fire guard.”

  Lehman twisted around to check that Lewis was standing by the helicopter with the fire extinguisher in his hands. “Posted,” said Lehman.

  “Rotor blades,” said Doherty.

  “Clear and untied.”

  “Throttle.”

  Lehman twisted the throttle to the starting position. “Set for start.”

  “Engine,” said Doherty.

  “Start engine,” said Lehman. His left hand tightened on the collective and he pressed the starter trigger switch there. The electric starter motor whined and the turbine began to hiss like a boiling kettle. Lehman’s eyes flicked automatically to the exhaust-gas temperature gauge as the rotors began to turn above his head. Flick, flick, flick, the rotors speeded up into a blur and the gauge went briefly into the red danger zone and then slid back into the green.

  “INVTR switch,” said Doherty, his voice clear in Lehman’s ear above the noise of the turbine.

  “Main on,” said Lehman.

  “Engine and transmission oil pressures,” said Doherty.

  Lehman scanned the gauges. “Check,” he said. The oil pressure was in the green for the main transmission and the gear boxes in the tail.

  “GPU disconnect,” said Doherty.

  “Disconnected,” said Lehman. He scanned all the gauges on his side of the instrument panel. All were green. He looked over to Doherty’s side and checked there were no problems there. Doherty gave him the thumbs-up, then turned and signalled to Lewis that there was no more need for the fire extinguisher. He stepped back, the downdraught from the spinning rotors kicking up clouds of dust around him. He put the extinguisher by the wall of the warehouse and then joined Horvitz, Carmody and Tyler in the back of the Huey.

  Lehman studied the gauges, checking that the torque, exhaust and oil levels were all within limits and the electrical system was performing as it should. From somewhere in the back he heard a tapping sound and he focused on it. It wasn’t mechanical, it sounded like something knocking on the side of the Huey.

  Tyler had said that he could lift the Huey a few inches off the ground to check if the rotor shaft was stable and that the Huey could generate sufficient lift. He pulled slowly on the collective and gave the cyclic the merest hint of a push.

  He could still hear the tapping. Dit-dit-dit daa. Dit-dit-dit daa. He realised it was someone in the back tapping nervously. He looked over at Doherty. He was sitting with his hands almost touching the controls, but obeying Lehman’s instructions not actually to take hold of them. They only had a few metres of clearance above the whirling blades and there was no margin for error, the sort of error that two decades in a monastery could induce. Doherty was looking out of the front of the cockpit, his mouth open as if in shock. The tapping stopped. Lehman gave all the gauges a final check and increased the pressure on the collective. The nose rose first and he quickly compensated, bringing the tail up. Th
e Huey tried to swing clockwise and he pressed down on the left pedal, keeping her straight. Lehman looked over to Doherty again, hoping that he’d confirm that there were no problems, but the man was still sitting motionless, his eyes wide. Great, thought Lehman, that’s all I need. A frozen co-pilot.

  He lowered the collective and slowly brought the Huey down on to the floor. He miscalculated at the last second and the tail dropped. The stinger scraped the floor before the Huey settled on to the heel of the right skid, then the heel of the left. Lehman breathed deeply, thanking the Lord that it was the stinger that had touched the ground and not the rear rotor. Contact with the stinger was untidy, with the rotor it could be fatal. He shut the helicopter down on his own because Doherty still hadn’t moved.

  The vets scrambled out of the side doors, bending their heads low because the rotors were still turning. Lehman applied the rotor brake and brought them to a halt. Lehman took off his helmet and climbed down to see Tyler shaking hands with Lewis and congratulating him. He pumped Lehman’s hand when he walked over. “Great job, Dan,” said Tyler, his eyes sparkling. “I’m really proud of you. I want to take all you guys out for a beer.”

  “All right!” cheered Carmody.

  “I’ll pass, Colonel,” said Lehman. He jerked a thumb at Doherty, still in the co-pilot’s station. “Chuck and I want to go over the controls again, and we’ll get to work on the route planning. We can go over it with you when you get back with the men.”

  Tyler slapped him on the back. “Sure, Dan, sure.”

  “I’ll stay, too, Colonel,” said Lewis. “My stomach’s not feeling too good tonight. I don’t think I’d be good company on a beer run. Besides, I’d like to give the slick another going over.”

  “Okay, Bart. Eric? Larry? You guys on?”

  “Sure, Colonel,” Horvitz and Carmody chorused.