by Martin Cox
‘Pleased to meet you’, replied Jack in his basic Portuguese. The congregation now gathered around Jack, kissing him on each cheek and introducing themselves.
‘It is wonderful to have you home Anjo, we shall discuss our business soon, but first, we eat,’ Paulo happily announced, ushering the crowd back into the garden, where the smells of barbequing food made Jack’s mouth water uncontrollably.
It had been a meal of traditional picanha and spiced chicken all with an astonishing variety of rice dishes. As the female family members and the older children cleared away the feast, Anjo took Jack into another room. Paulo and another cousin, Fernando, were sitting at a small wooden table. A single, shade-less light hung from the ceiling, illuminating the table. In front of them, maps of the local area.
‘We have located the old fort, it is about an hours drive away,’ Paulo indicated, pointing to the map. Jack took a look, scanning the coastline up to the fort.
‘We need to see it before we can plan anything. We need to know what we are dealing with. I suggest we get ourselves a helicopter and approach from the sea.’
‘I think I know a place that will have one, but it will cost,’ Fernando answered, leaning into the gathering.
‘I don’t think that will be a problem,’ Jack replied, a smile on his face, and I think I can get a piece of technology that can help us map out the fort and how many inhabitants there are.
The air had turned cold. Anjo was sitting in a small wooden chair, taking in the cooling air, the last smells of the feast fading into nothing. Her mother was draping a thick, orange blanket over her as Jack walked through the patio doors into the garden. Jack pulled up a chair next to her and slowly sat down.
‘Having second thoughts?’ he asked, with concern.
‘If I’m honest, yes. I did not think that there would have to be all this organisation, just to get to one man.’ replied Anjo, wrapping the blanket tightly around her body.
‘It would never be wise to enter into anything without preparation. That’s the quickest route to uncertainty’, Jack explained. ‘We need to know what we are facing. The man has a lot to protect. And so do you. I’m sure you want to protect your family. We can do this without you being identified. It will just take a little longer than you thought.’
‘But I had him, I did have a plan and he just disappeared.’ It was at this point that Jack decided to kill the conversation.
‘We best get our sleep, we have a lot to do tomorrow.’ He got up from his chair and entered the house, passing Fernando in the doorway.
‘Boa noite,’ smiled Fernando.
‘Good night,’ Jack replied, and he headed for his room.
Fernando took the seat next to Anjo.
‘Can we trust this man? I know you have said we can but you cannot be too careful,’ questioned Fernando, pulling a lighter from his pocket and lighting the cigarette that was behind his ear.
‘He has suffered as we have and I have seen what he is capable of. He will help us and yes, he can be trusted,’ Anjo replied. With that she rose from her chair and kissed her cousin on the cheek.
‘Good night, cousin.’ Fernando sat in silence, the last of the orange sky, turning to black.
In his room, Jack took out his phone and scrolled down to reveal a number tagged as Brody Mackintosh. Jack pressed dial.
The wind was settling as midday arrived. It had been a hot two-hour drive but they were finally there. The airfield was home to a small tower and four tarnished hangers, two either side of a small runway. Off to one side a large concreted area, four helicopters neatly lined up, rotor blades dancing in the breeze. There was no sign of anyone. Jack leaned across to Anjo and told her to pull up outside the hanger with the door slightly ajar. Anjo banged on the sizeable shutter. The instant sound of dropping tools could be heard, followed by footsteps. A hand appeared around the door, moving its bulk, increasing the gap. Anjo stood back as a short, stout man appeared in oil-stained, grey overalls.
‘How can I help you?’ he said in Portuguese, his thick, grey moustache in motion as he spoke.
‘We phoned yesterday evening about a rental, are you Carlos Sabino?’ Jack asked in English.
‘I am Senhor Sabino,’ he replied, rubbing his hand on his overalls and outstretching it at Jack. ‘English hand shake, pleased to meet you, you are David, er?’ the man thought for a moment. ‘Jenkins, yes, I have good memory for names, but I have some bad news Senhor Jenkins for you, my pilot is sick today.’
‘Is there anyway you could take us?’ Anjo asked, sombrely.
‘I am sorry, Senhorita, I am very busy today.’
Jack reached into the inside of his jacket. His hand returned with a wedge of money.
‘Fifteen thousand Reais, if we can borrow a helicopter for one hour? I am a qualified pilot,’ Jack offered, waving the chunk of notes in temptation. The man’s eyes widened.
‘For one hour, ok, but you will have to use the black one at the end. It has just had a re-spray, there are no markings on her.’
‘Excellent,’ Jack said, eagerly placing the rest of his money back in his trousers, no markings was perfect for what they needed.
‘I will fuel it up for you,’ Carlos said, sliding the money from Jack’s fingers. He flicked through it, a glowing smile on his face.
Carlos raised his thumb to Jack and Anjo as they sat in the cockpit of the Jet Ranger. It had been shut off for some time and all dials were dead cold. Jack undid the top two buttons of his light, blue shirt and instigated the proceedings. He turned on the electrics and the avionic switch, checking the fuel level. Jack was pleased Senhor Sabino had not scrimped on the fuel. It was full. With the fuel valve and navigation lights turned on, Jack drew his attention to the rotor rpm whilst checking his communication and navigation.
‘Well, let’s hope I remember how to fly one of these, it’s been a while,’ Jack said, looking at the numerous dials. With a look of concern on her face Anjo closed her eyes and made the sign of the cross on her body. Jack noticed her movements.
‘Don’t worry, you never forget, it’s like riding a bike. Just a little bit more complicated and if you do make a mistake, it’s a lot longer till you hit the ground,’ Jack smiled, now noticing the rotors rpm had reached one hundred percent.
‘Well, here we go,’ Jack shouted, grabbing the collective and the cyclic tightly, coordinating the controls with immediate dexterity. The skids straightened as the weight of the Ranger left the ground. Jack turned to Anjo and smiled.
Once airborne, the airfield was just a speck in the distance. Jack headed towards the coast where they would follow its line up to Sperafico’s private residence.
‘Take the camera out of that bag,’ Jack said, gesturing towards the black holdall behind them. As the shoreline rushed beneath them, Jack increased altitude as they came closer.
‘I’ll fly by and then circle back round, you get ready with the camera,’ Jack announced, competing with the sound of the rotor blades.
‘I’m frightened I might break it, it’s quite heavy.’
‘It works just like a normal camera. But you’ll be amazed at the images.’
The old fort was indeed close to the waters edge. Its vast structure spread into the dense tree line. They could both see the layout of the three buildings, but the camera’s zoom couldn’t quite pick up the entrances.
‘We need to get closer,’ Anjo suggested. Jack nodded and manoeuvred the Ranger into a banked descent. The buildings became clearer. Anjo sat, bent forward, constantly taking pictures of the entrances and the routes into, what they could now see as, a sealed compound. Jack then noticed movement on the ground. A man in a khaki uniform ran from a small building near the entrance. He could see that the man was carrying something large and cylindrical. He placed it on to his shoulder and stared in the direction of their helicopter.
‘Hold on to something,’ exclaimed Jack opening the throttle, dropping the nose and heading for the safety of the shoreline. It must have been pure l
uck or a terrible aim that sent the immense speed of the AT4’s rocket way above them, as it disappeared into the distance.
‘I think we’ve out stayed our welcome,’ Jack decided, as he turned the Ranger and headed back down the coast.
Unfortunately for Jack and Anjo there wasn’t any time to relax. From amongst the foliage emerged a MD 520 helicopter, armed and in pursuit of the Ranger. Jack banked right and sent the Ranger into a steep descent into the mouth of a wide River. Jack kept low to the ground, hoping that the 520 wouldn’t notice where they had gone. The Ranger gathered speed, whipping past the rock lined banks of the vast river. But for Sperafico’s men, the chase was on. The 520 was closing in fast. Its smaller build was considerably more agile than the Ranger. The jutting rocks were close. The harsh training that Jack had been through was all flooding back. He was now one with the helicopter. As the 520 gained on the Ranger, Jack manoeuvred the helicopter inhibiting any clear shots from their mounted, 0.5 calibre, machine gun pods. Despite Jack’s efforts, Sperafico’s men fired the guns. One bullet hit the glass next to Anjo, causing her to scream and lurch to her left. The bullet pierced a hole and exited through the front windshield. The chase continued. The river meandered more and more, the rock faces becoming closer at every bend. The 520 fired again. Bullets ricocheted off the Ranger’s blades. Jack was becoming tired and the 520 was getting closer by the minute.
‘Jack, what do we do?’ Anjo screamed.
CHAPTER 7
Jack thought for a moment, sweat beginning to appear on his brow and his top lip.
‘Take my gun and open your window, and when I say, empty it towards the cockpit of their helicopter, preferably the pilot,’ he instructed. Anjo checked the gun. It had a full cartridge.
‘What are you doing?’ Anjo asked.
‘I’m not sure that I really know,’ Jack replied. The Ranger swept round a hard left turn. Jack took a deep breath and slowed the Jet Ranger down. It took all his concentration to stop fast, turning the helicopter side ways. Anjo aimed as the 520 turned the corner. She fired the full clip with precision, the 520 returning fire, spraying the back doors of the ranger. Anjo’s second bullet hit the pilot in his left shoulder. The rest sprayed the cockpit, hitting instruments and the passengers. Jack powered upwards, as the 520 banked steeply left, slamming into the rock face, dropping the short distance to the calm river below, its rotor blades tearing up the riverbed. There were no signs of the crew escaping as the 520 ignited, bellowing out thick, black smoke.
‘Shit!’ exclaimed Anjo. ‘How did you know that would work?’
‘Oh, it worked once before,’ Jack replied, confidently. In his mind though, he spoke to himself with a little less self-belief. What if the screen had been bullet proof? And what if he had lost control of the helicopter and had ended up where they were? The Ranger gained altitude, Jack breathing a sigh of relief as he headed back to the airfield.
The Jet Ranger landed safely at the airfield. Jack turned off the controls and they both exited the helicopter.
‘How do we explain the damage, it’s only just been re-sprayed?’ Anjo asked.
‘I’ve left some money on the seat, it should cover the damage,’ replied Jack, straightening his shirt collar. They made their way back over to the hangar. As they entered they could see Senhor Sabino working on the engine of a red and white Cessna 180, light aircraft. Sabino looked up from his work. Jack threw the keys at him. He clumsily caught them in his left hand.
‘Obrigado, Senhor, Senhorita,’ Sabino mumbled, his mouth full of chocolate.
‘Have a nice day,’ Anjo said, responding with a half-hearted smile, feeling bad about the damage that they had left him. As they quickly made their way to their Jeep, Jack noticed a dust cloud heading towards them in the distance, the undulating terrain impeding any view of the vehicle.
‘Quick, get in,’ ordered Jack, pulling the keys from his North Face trekking pants. The Jeep started and then quickly pulled away. Jack headed into the trees and stopped. Overhead, they could hear the rumblings of a private jet approaching. They both jumped out of the Jeep. Crouching behind the dense brush they were able to obtain an excellent view of the runway and surrounding buildings. As the white Falcon 2000 touched down on the small, but robust, runway, the dust cloud-producing vehicle drove into view. But it was more than one vehicle. In fact there were three GMC 4x4 vehicles, all dark blue. Jack and Anjo watched as the vehicles stopped. The doors opened and a total of eight armed men exited and most importantly, Sperafico himself.
‘Sperafico!’ Anjo indicated, turning to Jack for his next move. Jack just kept still and put his index finger to his lips and continued to watch. They watched, as Sperafico waited by the luggage hold. A team of men were pulling out packages that could only be paintings. The paintings were loaded into two of the vehicles. The luggage hold was closed and Sperafico resumed his position in one of the vehicles. The last GMC waited. Two armed men stood by its side.
‘They must be waiting for the pilot,’ suggested Jack. ‘It will be a while before we can leave, so make yourself comfortable.’ Anjo turned and sat down, leaning against the side of the Jeep’s tyre.
‘I can’t believe Sperafico was right there and we couldn’t do anything about it,’ Anjo said, running her fingers through her hair ‘but I don’t feel so bad about the helicopter, now I know Senhor Sabino helps Sperafico.’
After another forty-five minutes, the GMC Yukon left the airfield. It was now safe for Jack and Anjo to leave as well. They both jumped into the Jeep and headed back to town.
Once the images had been downloaded onto Jack’s tablet, they could clearly see the points of entry and rooms of each of the three buildings. They also identified each man present in the compound and some out in the surrounding jungle. The room was full of Anjo’s family, all wanting to help.
‘We need to discuss weaponry,’ suggested Jack.
‘I think we can get some FMKs and grenades,’ Paulo answered.
‘That’s good, but we’ll need some rifles as well as sub machine guns, we need to do this as quietly as possibly, or Sperafico will be running before we can even get close’, Jack said. Fernando rose from his seat.
‘I know where we can get some,’ and he went off to call them. Jack looked at the pictures in front of him.
‘My biggest worry is that his hectic lifestyle isn’t a guarantee that he’ll have the decency to be in when we pop round to kill him. We need someone to keep an eye on him over the next day while we prepare,’ Jack stated.
‘I thought that you had satellites, ways of spying on us all, can’t you use them?’ said the man in the corner.
‘I am here alone. I have no access to any such technology,’ Jack replied.
‘Then why are you here? What can you do that we can’t,’ the man added.
‘He is a professional, he does things like this for his work,’ Anjo interjected, rising from her chair, ‘why do we need you to plant our crops, we can do that ourselves?’ Anjo continued, ‘The reason is that, your crops are more successful, because you have more experience than the rest of us, Jack here, is the same as you but in a different line of work.’ Jack didn’t know where to look. He had never been defended like that before. In fact he felt a little embarrassed. The man in the corner fell silent.
‘We still need a watcher,’ Jack restated.
‘I will do it,’ emerged a voice from the other side of the door. The door opened and a boy entered. He stood at five and a half feet, thick brown scruffy hair and the spitting image of Paulo. ‘I will help,’ he said confidently.
‘Marco, what are you doing listening to our conversation?’ Paulo said. ‘You are only sixteen, you cannot help.’
‘I have my horse and my long wave radio. I can camp nearby and keep you updated if he leaves. All I need is a pair of binoculars and some food and water. It is only for one night.’
‘You cannot help, you are too young, and you should not get involved in this business,’ shouted Paulo. Other shouts j
oined in, arguments for and against Marco helping. The atmosphere in the room became heated again. Jack looked around, wondering if this unprofessional approach was really a sensible idea.
‘Let me help, father, let me make you proud. You have taught me all I need to know. I will take Sombra. He will look after me, he is a good horse,’ Marco said, hoping to convince his father. Since the death of his mother when he was four years old, Marco and Paulo had become very close. Not only as father and son but hunting and fishing companions. Paulo knew in his heart that Marco would be fine on his own. It was the threat of Sperafico and his men that troubled him. Anjo stood up from her chair.
‘There comes a time in every culture when a boy makes the transition into manhood. I believe this is the time for Marco. And I know you do too, Paulo’. Anjo took Marco by the hand and faced him. She looked deep into his brown eyes. ‘Do you know that this may be dangerous?’ she asked, looking for a moment of hesitation or fear in the young boy.
‘Yes,’ he answered, with nothing but self-confidence.
‘Then it is settled, you will leave first thing in the morning, it will take you about four hours. We will make sure you have everything you need and know exactly where you are going.
As the meeting came to, somewhat of a quickened end, everyone with their own little task to complete the next day, Jack’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He wandered outside to take the call. Alex had some surprising news.
‘Jack, after a lot of investigating, I can unofficially tell you that Colonel Grimlock is probably the leak. He’s been in charge of all Sperafico’s investigations, deeming his operations no threat to national security. I’ve submitted a report to Morgan and Shelton but have had no reply as yet,’ Alex reported getting straight to the point.
‘Can you have him followed?’ Jack asked.
‘When I first started to investigate the files, I had a suspicion so I ask Ben to follow him, he owed me a favour for setting him up with that bird, you know the one with the big…’