“You’re brilliant! I’ll be right back!” Michael whirled around and ran to the helicopter. “God, I hope this works,” Henry said as he whisked Matt and Lauren away from the overturned truck.
The first faint warble of sirens in the distance was drowned out by the noise of the helicopter powering up to depart. Lauren held out her hand to Michael as he fought the downwash from the helicopter. The rotor wash obliterated their footprints as the Black Hawk clawed skyward and vanished into the blizzard.
“Get up there now!” Henry yelled as he, too, heard the approaching sirens.
Quickly, Lauren, Matt, Henry and Michael hoisted themselves up and over the sides of the snowplow and settled heavily into the load of sand that nearly filled the hopper. Lying flat, they were invisible to anyone on the ground. The wail of sirens drew close, followed by the slamming of doors, there were shouts from what sounded like at least a dozen security personnel.
Lauren listened as their savior from Snow One began to explain what he’d seen to the leader of the security force.
“We got here just in time to see some soldiers pile three men into that helicopter and leave,” Snow One explained loudly. “It was a Black Hawk. There were guns drawn and everything!”
“Did you say three?” came the heated response.
“It looked like it to me. Whoever they were, the Army has them now. What in God’s name is going on around here? And what are you going to do about this truck? I can’t have it laying here in the middle of my runway!”
“I’m not at liberty to explain that to you,” the voice of the security officer said loudly, full of authority. “This is a crime scene and I’ll need you to clear the area.”
“Whatever you say. This runway was closed anyway,” Snow One said, then yelled to his man. “Get this plow up to the north side and finish what you were doing!”
Lauren lay motionless the security man keyed his radio and asked the tower where the helicopter was headed. They all heard the response. The helicopter was headed south, but they had no idea what its destination was. Lauren held Michael tightly. She couldn’t believe he was here with her. Moments later, the snowplow lurched and began to move beneath them. The sounds of the security men faded in the distance as they sped away. Lauren glanced at her watch and gave Henry an expectant look. He could only shrug his shoulders. He, like Lauren, had no idea what was happening in the sky above them.
“Hurry up and call them!” Henry finally said above the rising noise from the truck. “We’ve got to tell them we’re still coming!”
Lauren nodded and felt for her phone. A wave of alarm came over her as she found only an empty pocket. Frantically she searched her other pockets, only to come up empty. “I can’t find it! It must have fallen out when we flipped over! Give me yours!”
“It’s in my coat, back in the airplane,” Henry replied as he shivered in the cold. “Does anyone have a phone?”
“Mine’s dead.” Michael held out his empty hands. “I used it up talking with Calvin and the Army. It took us forever to get the helicopter launched.”
“I have mine.” Matt rolled over and dug in his pocket. He handed the phone to Lauren.
“Thank you, Matt.” Lauren smiled warmly at the young man. Lauren dialed Donovan’s number, her heart soaring at the thought of talking with him. But just as quickly, her hopes plummeted as her call went straight to voice-mail. She left him a message not to ditch—that they were still coming to get them. But deep down, something told her that it would be a miracle if Donovan ever heard her message.
“No luck?” Michael asked, as she hung up. “Is there another number we can call? Is there any other way to reach them?”
“I can keep trying.” Lauren started to hit the re-dial sequence.
“Not yet,” Henry said, stopping her. “That’s the only phone we have left. Wait a few minutes. Maybe they’re just in a bad spot. We’ve got some other problems to solve before we get to the hangar.”
“What are we up against?” Michael asked. “Explain to me exactly how we’re going to get this airplane off the ground without all those cops charging out to stop us.”
“I understand you’re a pilot?” Henry asked Michael.
“Yeah. I’m ex-Navy. I flew fighters,” Michael replied.
“Perfect, because I’m one pilot short to help me fly the 737. Do you have any flight time in Boeings?”
“Nope.” Michael shook his head. “But I’m a fast learner.”
“You’re going to have to be.” Henry looked at his son and hesitated as he tried to formulate the right words. “Matt, if it weren’t for you, we’d be in custody right now. That was quick thinking back there. Once we get inside the hangar you’ll know what to do. We’re going to have to work fast to get that airplane out the door. You’re in charge of making that happen.”
“Sure. What are you going to do?” Matt said, unsure of what else might be needed.
“I’m going to have to convince the people on duty to let us have the airplane,” Henry said. “I imagine the people at the hangar have already heard about our first attempt, they might even have figured out what we’re trying to do. Hopefully they’ll be sympathetic to our cause. I know one of the shift supervisors on duty; he and I go way back.”
The snowplow ground to a halt and Lauren and the others hastily piled out of the hopper.
“What can I do for you folks now?” the big man said as he pulled his pickup truck next to the plow and rolled down his window.
“We don’t even know your name.” Lauren went to where the man sat. “Or how to ever thank you.”
“The name’s Emmett. Now, I’d love to sit here and chat, but my guess is we don’t have time. So, what else can I do to help you get out of here?”
“I can probably taxi the airplane out to about here,” Henry said, pointing to an area on the ramp. “But from here on out to runway 14 right, I’m going to need some assistance.”
“You going to take off downwind?” Emmett frowned. “It’s blowing pretty hard.”
“I’ll never make it down to the far end without Security getting in my way,” Henry said. “The runway is 13,000 feet long and the airplane is going to be pretty light. It’ll work.”
“Gotcha,” Emmett said, nodding. “I’ll get started right away on taxiway Yankee. Trust me, you’ll have a way to the runway.”
“Won’t you draw attention to yourself?” Michael looked up and down the deserted section of the airport.
Emmett thumped a thick finger into his chest. “You leave that to me.”
“Thank you so much.” Lauren wanted to hug the man who had pulled them back from the brink of failure.
“Go on.” Emmett rolled up his window.
Henry went to a side door of the hangar and tested that it was open. It was. He opened it a crack and peered inside. He then motioned for the others to follow.
Lauren was thrilled to see a Boeing 737 sitting in the middle of the hanger. Only the auxiliary lights were on and the place looked deserted. All the better, she thought.
“There should only be a handful of people on duty. It’s Friday, plus we’ve downsized our maintenance base here in Chicago. Most of our mechanics were transferred to Dallas,” Henry whispered. “I’m going to go find the crew. Matt, help Michael get to the cockpit, then pull all the gear pins and covers. I’m going to find the switches to kill all these inside lights. I want a dark hanger when we start.”
“I’m on it.” Matt leaned in and pushed a large red toolbox out from under the wing of the Boeing.
“When I was in the helicopter, I heard some chatter that led me to believe there might be Air Force fighters on their way here,” Michael said. “I’d hate to get shot down after all the trouble we’ve gone through.”
“You help Matt. I’ll make a phone call.” Lauren still had her hand around Matt’s phone. “Maybe Calvin can take care of the fighters.” Lauren punched out the number to reach Calvin. As she waited, she thought of Donovan. She prayed that he
was still flying. She watched as Henry sprinted toward the offices across the hangar in search of help.
“Reynolds here.”
“Calvin, it’s Lauren.”
“Lauren, what’s going on? How are you doing?” Calvin said warmly. “I’m told Michael is probably somewhere on the airport by now. He’s most likely trying to find you in Operations.”
“He’s standing right next to me, but we’ve got a little problem we need your help with.”
“Name it.”
“Michael thinks there might be Air Force jets on their way to our area. Do you know anything about this?”
“No, but it wouldn’t surprise me. I can make a call and see what’s going on.” Calvin hesitated. “I will tell you that the media is all over this story. There are all kinds of conflicting reports from Chicago. The most worrisome, is that an airliner narrowly missed the Hancock building. The Office of Homeland Security has set up shop in the White House situation room. What exactly is going on there?”
“It’s complicated and I don’t have much time.” Lauren surveyed the hangar and found that Matt had already cleared most of the equipment from around the 737. “We’re getting ready to take off from O’Hare. It’s not authorized, so I guess you can say we’re stealing a jet. The authorities managed to shut down our first attempt, but we found another plane and we’re going to get Donovan. What we need from you, is to make sure we don’t get shot down before we can help them.”
“I’ll make a call to the Secretary of Defense. He’s the highest-ranking official I can reach right now,” Calvin said. “I’ll do my best.”
“Thank you.” Over Michael’s shoulder Lauren saw Henry sprint from the distant door followed by two men. “I have to go!”
“Lauren. Do whatever it takes,” Calvin said quietly, reinforcing what she’d already heard from Donovan. “I’ll try to intervene with the Air Force.”
“I’ve got to go.”
Henry began to shout orders, his voice echoing through the high-ceilinged space.
“I’ll call when I know more,” she said, and turned off the phone.
“Let’s go!” Henry yelled in Lauren’s direction.
“Fighters taken care of?” Michael asked as they hurried to the metal stairs that would take them up into the 737.
“I don’t know. Calvin’s working on it.” Lauren reached out and took Michael’s hand. “I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve felt so alone since all of this started.”
“I might not have gotten here as quickly as I’d have liked. But you were never alone.” Michael squeezed back. “When I was in the helicopter, I was listening in on one of the radio frequencies. Did someone really shoot at you?”
Lauren nodded.
“Wow, Donovan is going to be so pissed when he hears about that.”
Lauren smiled. If anyone could soften a moment with his sense of humor, it was Michael Ross. She’d seen it a million times.
“Michael!” Henry commanded as he drew closer. “Get up in the right seat and start familiarizing yourself with the cockpit. When we go—we’re going fast. I’ll need you to keep up.”
“What about the doors? How do we pull this thing outside?” Michael asked as he took the steps.
“I’ve got two men who are going to kill the lights and open the doors behind the jet,” Henry said. “Once we start the engines, they’ll open the front doors. I’m hoping we’ll be airborne before anyone knows what we’re doing.”
“Beautiful,” Michael said as he bounded up the stairs two at a time.
“Did you find another phone?” Lauren was about to follow Michael into the plane.
“Yes.” Henry held out the proof in his hand. “We need to get going. Did you talk to your people at the DIA?”
“They’re working on it, but we’ve created a security nightmare. I guess we’ll know soon enough.”
“You didn’t by chance talk to 880, did you?” Henry signaled to the two men across the hangar. The overhead lights immediately winked out, their elements glowing red-hot in the dark hangar. At the same time, the massive doors behind the 737 began to rumble open. He motioned for Lauren to go up the steps.
“No. I’ll keep trying though.” Lauren climbed up into the Boeing as fast as she could.
Henry reached out and swung the door closed and latched it firmly. He squeezed past Lauren and slid easily into the left seat. His hands flew expertly around the flight deck and within seconds the high-pitched whine of the APU filled their ears. With electricity from the generator, instruments came to life. Henry quietly guided Michael to assist and they settled into an even, but hurried cadence of activity.
Lauren pulled down the jump seat and untangled the seat harness. She strapped herself in and then leaned forward to hear what was being said.
“Okay.” Henry’s eyes darted around the cockpit. “Once we get both engines started, I’ll give the signal to open the front doors. I’m hoping there’s a snowplow waiting outside to lead the way. If not, I’m not sure we’ll make it to the runway.”
“He’ll be there,” Michael said confidently. “I’m a big fan of Emmett. What about the tower? What are we going to tell them?”
“Nothing. We don’t want to hear anything they have to say until we’re airborne.”
“Works for me,” Michael said. “Better to beg for forgiveness than ask for permission?”
“Something like that.” Henry put a finger on the start button for the right engine. “Ready?”
“Do it.” Michael began calling out engine rotations and temperatures.
Lauren found herself holding her breath as the two pilots methodically started both engines and quickly ran through a series of checks. Michael read as Henry completed each task. Moments later, Henry gave a thumbs-up to the men outside and the steel doors in front of them parted. Snow began to billow inside the hanger the wider the doors opened. Through the murk Lauren began to make out a vague shape, then two. Slowly the dark objects became visible. Lauren’s heart soared at the sight of three snowplows, each lined up in position to lead them out to the runway. The yellow flashing lights on top of each cab were turned off, their huge steel blades were down, and black diesel exhaust poured out of their stacks.
“Would you look at that!” Michael leaned forward to gauge when their wingtips would be clear of the doors.
Henry nudged the throttles and the Boeing inched ahead. Instantly the plows began to pull forward. The 737 rocked gently as they passed over the door tracks and settled into the snow.
“Turn the anti-icing on,” Henry reminded Michael.
Michael reached up and selected the switches Henry had shown him earlier. His hands then went down to the center console and rested on the flap selector.
“I can see the runway,” Henry said as he added power to keep pace with the plows. “In about 500 feet we’ll have to make a sharp right turn followed by another left turn. Then we’ll be there.”
“Aircraft on taxiway Yankee. This is O’Hare Tower. Stop and hold your position. The airport is closed.”
The sudden intrusion from the overhead speaker startled Lauren. She didn’t recognize the voice. She first looked at Henry, then Michael, to see if their having been spotted by the surface radar made any difference. Henry added more power and the 737 picked up speed.
“Unidentified aircraft on taxiway Yankee. This is O’Hare Tower. You are in violation of TSA directives. Stop your aircraft and hold your position!”
“We might need to hurry a bit.” Michael pointed. “I see someone coming up fast.”
“Shit,” Henry said, as he, too, saw a vehicle roaring down the parallel taxiway they were headed toward.
“This is going to be close.” Henry touched the brakes as they neared the ninety-degree bend in the concrete. “I’ve got to slow down to make the turn.”
“I think it’ll work.” Michael struggled to keep the vehicle in sight. “Keep going and I think we can cut him off.”
“Unidentified aircraft! This is
O’Hare Tower. Hold your position. I repeat. Hold your position and stop your engines!”
“This must be killing them,” Lauren said, regarding the frantic calls from the tower. “They know what we’re trying to do, they’re on our side, but their hands are tied.”
“Holy shit!” Michael shouted as a blaze of flashing lights swept under their right wing. He braced himself when Henry smashed on the brakes to avoid hitting the truck.
Lauren stifled a scream as the security vehicle came skidding to a halt between them and the snowplows—blocking their path. The Boeing slipped and jerked, the anti-skid brakes fighting for purchase on the snowy taxiway. Lauren couldn’t believe they’d driven the truck directly under the Boeing’s wing to stop airplane. They nosed down heavily, grinding to a halt with no more than ten feet of space between the nose of the 737 and the security vehicle.
“Wayfarer Boeing! This is O’Hare security. You are ordered to shut down engines or we will open fire. I repeat. We will open fire.”
Henry’s shoulders slumped. He put his hands on two levers under the throttles. Lauren had watched Donovan shut down the Gulfstreams and she knew it began with the same action. She lowered her head. It was too much. They’d come so close.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“Everything’s ready.” Donovan snapped the phone shut. “The tower says all of the rescue boats are in position. I guess it’s time to do this.”
“Once we’re in the water—” John had just finished securing the cockpit. There was now nothing left that might fly around and injure them when they hit. “I want you to get out. I don’t know how mobile I’m going to be.”
“We’ll make it out together.” Donovan gave John a reassuring nod, then looked out the window to gauge their distance from the starting point. The hole in the storm lay just beneath their nose. Donovan banked the airplane to the left and stared down through the haze at the barely visible waves. The strong winds created long foam streaks in the dark green water. The angry lake seemed to taunt him, daring him to succeed. On the western edge he caught sight of the rock wall that served as a breakwater for the harbor. He knew the margin for error was small. He’d have to slow the Boeing as much as he dared and spiral inside the small opening in the tempest below. He would have to level out and ditch while still in the relatively clear air. If they went too far, the visibility would probably drop to near zero. He’d have no choice but to set it down anyway—far away from the rescue boats. They then ran the risk of the Coast Guard not being able to find the sinking airplane in the blinding storm.
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