by Alan Baxter
“What do you mean you’re going to catch them?” Rose asked.
“Exactly that. Come on.” Crowley moved the car to a more sensible spot on the gravel beside the short airport road, locked it up, and tucked the keys up on top of the front wheel.
“Another hire company that’ll never let us rent a car again,” he said with a grin. “But at least they’ll get this one back.”
“And now what?”
“Follow me.” He stayed low and skirted the chain link fencing until he reached a double gate that was pushed closed, a heavy chain looped loosely around its uprights. Checking no one was paying attention, at least no one they could see, he tested the length of the chain. The gate shifted a good foot or so, making a gap just big enough for them to squeeze through. “Don’t you love lax security?” Crowley said with a grin.
The slipped through and Crowley stayed low and near the fence as he led them along to a large tan metal hangar. He glanced around the corner and saw a small jet standing just in front of the open hangar door.
He pointed. “That’s a Beechcraft Premier. I can fly it no problem.”
“You fly too?” Rose asked. “You’re full of surprises.”
“I spent a long time in the Army, trained for the SAS. I covered a lot of bases while I was in.”
“And you’re really going to steal that plane?”
“Yes, but I’ll return it when we’re done. It’s for a good cause, right?”
Movement in the hangar made them duck back into the shadows of the wall. Two businessmen in crisp suits boarded the plane, chatting casually as they went. Both carried an attaché case, but nothing else.
“That’s handy,” Crowley said. “It looks like they’re about ready to go anyway. But where’s their pilot?”
Rose tapped his shoulder and pointed as another man rounded the other side of the hangar. Sandy-haired, wearing khakis and a polo shirt, he leaned into the small plane to share a few words with the businessmen, and then secured the door behind them.
“Yep, that’s pilot,” Crowley said. “Quickly, get him to come over here.”
“Me?” Rose said aghast. “How?”
“I don’t know! Feminine wiles? Show him the goods?”
Rose arched an eyebrow. "Really? The goods?”
“Please, just do it. He’ll be suspicious of a man, but a woman is always less confronting, right?”
Rose sighed, then ducked around the hangar and hurried over to the pilot. “Excuse me, I really need your help,” she said. Crowley was impressed with how desperate she managed to sound.
She grabbed the startled man by the hand and pulled him toward the spot where Crowley hid. Caught off-guard, the pilot followed at first, a few stumbling steps, but then he stopped and pulled Rose to a halt.
“Miss, I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but you really shouldn’t be in here.”
“Sir, please!” Rose’s voice took on a pleading tone. She sounded like a lost little girl. “You have to see this!”
“See what?”
She dragged him another few paces, within about five meters of Crowley’s hiding place, before the man pulled her up short again.
“Lady, listen, I have a job to do and you shouldn’t be here.”
Crowley knew he needed to act. He strode out from cover and said, “Daisy, there you are! Why are you bothering that man?”
Rose looked around, agape as Crowley quickly closed the gap between them.
“Is she with you?” the pilot asked, clearly relieved that the strange woman had someone else with her.
“I’m sorry,” Crowley said as he reached the pair of them. “She’s a little, you know…” He circled a finger at his temple.
As the pilot began to laugh and Rose stepped aside, fury creasing her brow, Crowley’s whirling finger closed into a fist and he whipped a punch across the point of the pilot’s chin. The unfortunate man dropped like his strings had been cut.
“I’m a little mad, am I?” Rose demanded.
Crowley grinned. “You should have flashed him the goods.” He ducked her slap and said, “Come on, help me here.”
He was pleased to see Rose was smiling slightly as they hastily pulled the pilot into a corner. She was a good sport. Crowley quickly stripped to his underwear and donned the pilot’s clothes. Thankfully they were a similar size. As he dressed, Rose tied and gagged the pilot who moaned and writhed as she got the last knots in.
“Keep the gag loose,” Crowley said. “We don’t want to kill him, just buy some time before he raises the alarm.”
“Won’t the air traffic controllers know something is up?”
“Yes, but what are they going to do, shoot us down?”
“That’s not funny,” Rose said.
“Don’t worry. They definitely don’t have anti-aircraft missiles in a small airport like this. Come on.”
They jogged over and boarded the plane. Rose dropped into the seat beside Crowley as he prepped for takeoff.
“What’s the delay?” one of the businessmen asked. He checked his watch. “We’re already late, where have you been?” He leaned forward, eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute, you’re not the pilot who spoke to us a moment ago.”
“My apologies,” Crowley said, flashing his most winning smile. “Quick change of plans, but don’t worry. You’re in good hands and we’re off now. We’ll make up the time in the air.”
He went through final prep and then taxied out towards the runway. Rose slipped the co-pilot’s headset on and asked softly if he was sure he knew what he was doing.
Crowley turned his winning smile to her. “We’ll soon find out.”
As he taxied onto the runway a shocked and angry voice came through the headsets. “Beechcraft Premier Charlie-Foxtrot-one-niner, what are you doing?”
Crowley ignored the demand, put a finger to his lips to ensure Rose did the same.
“Beechcraft Premier Charlie-Foxtrot-one-niner, we have not yet given you clearance, return to the hangar immediately!”
Crowley wound up the Premier’s engines as he lined up on the runway.
The controller’s voice was a screech as another small jet came streaking toward them from the other end of the runway. “Charlie-Foxtrot-one-niner, collision alert!” But it was too late to do anything about it.
Rose let out a yelp of shock as the plane approaching them lifted its nose off the tarmac. They clearly saw the pilot’s horrified face as he leaned back in his seat, hauling the small jet up. It roared over them, Crowley wincing as he was convinced he’d made the worst mistake of his life and it was all over, but the other plane’s landing gear skimmed mere inches above the nose of their jet and then it was gone.
“What the hell is happening up there?” one of the businessmen yelled.
Crowley wound up the engines further and began his take-off run. “Civilian pilot,” he said back over his shoulder. “Doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing. He’s in the air now, so he won’t be a problem for us anymore. Sorry about that.”
He ignored the clamor from the tower and lifted the small Premier into the air. Rose seemed to relax beside him once they were up.
“What do we do when we get to Denver?” she asked.
Crowley shrugged. “Hopefully Cameron will have got the message through and the authorities will be waiting for the Graybell jet when it lands.”
Rose considered that for a moment. “So what are we doing then? If Cameron can’t get anyone to listen to him, we’ll be arrested in Denver and Lily gets to go unscathed. If he is successful, then our part in all this is superfluous.”
Crowley had hoped she wouldn’t consider that, but as she had put it together, he had no intention of lying to her. “That’s true,” he said, opening up the engine. “But I’m planning on catching up to them before they get anywhere near Denver.”
Rose twisted in the seat, face shocked. “And what exactly are you going to do when you catch up with them?”
Crowley grimaced, not taking his eyes off the vis
ta of sky ahead of them. “Deal with the situation.”
Chapter 55
In the air west-northeast of Flagstaff
They flew above an unrelenting landscape of flat, featureless brown. Crowley pushed the plane for all it was worth. He kept glancing at the fuel gauge, wondering if they had enough to make Denver. He didn’t know what this plane’s original destination was, therefore what they might have fueled up for. And he was out of practice estimating from gauges. But all he could do was keep going and hopefully reaching Denver would become moot.
Then, up ahead against the cornflower blue sky, he spotted a white dot. He pointed.
“Another plane.”
“Think that’s them?” Rose asked.
“We’ll see, but yes, I think so. We weren’t that far behind them.”
He kept the small jet working at capacity and they quickly closed the gap. He stayed high and left of the other plane and soon saw the telltale symbol on the tail, the smoking pyramid. He remembered his experience in the cavern, the tiny drops of water, the writhing tentacles of black. The cultist’s blackened faces as whatever that dark cloud was had asphyxiated them violently. Seeing the Anubis Key represented on the tail of the plane ahead convinced him he had to stop them, whatever the cost. He could only imagine what kind of authorities would close ranks around Lily if she made it to Denver. He had to assume that was the base of their operations, or at least a serious outpost. Lily was likely to have too many friends there.
“Could you talk to them?” Rose asked, nervousness making her voice tremble. She could obviously tell Crowley had a single-minded focus and it was scaring her. He didn’t blame her. It was scaring him too. “Convince them to land?” she said.
“I can talk to them if we’re on the same frequency, but would they listen?”
Rose shrugged, brow creased, lips pressed together.
They closed in and Crowley checked the number on the Graybell jet, noted the make and model. Then he keyed open a channel. “Cessna 118, come in.”
No reply.
“Graybell Cessna, you are instructed to return to the Flagstaff airport immediately.”
This time, the Cessna pilot replied, his voice tight with anger. “And who the hell are you?”
“Homeland security,” Crowley quickly invented.
“With a British accent? Sure you are.”
“You are instructed to return immediately, or else a military response will be required.”
There was a long pause, and then the pilot’s voice again. “Look, mate,” he emphasized the word sarcastically. “I don’t know who the hell you are, but I heard the same chatter from the tower that you did. I’m pretty sure you’re the ass who stole a plan. Now kindly get off my channel and get a safe distance from my bird.”
“Last warning,” Crowley said, his voice a threatening growl.
There were several seconds of silence again, and then the Cessna changed course. Crowley quickly matched it, checking his compass. North, and then northwest.
“What the hell?” Crowley muttered.
“What are they doing?” Rose asked.
“They’ve changed direction, but they’re not headed for Flagstaff. I don’t know what they’re doing.”
“How long until we land in Albuquerque?” one of the passengers demanded from the back.
Crowley jumped. He had completely forgotten they were even there. “Not long at all,” he said, trying to sound upbeat.
“Can you be more specific?” the man asked.
“I can, but I won’t,” Crowley snapped.
The passenger sputtered, quickly becoming indignant. Crowley couldn’t blame the poor man, but he didn’t have time to mollify him. More important things were at stake.
Rose turned in her seat. “I suggest you calm yourself, sir. Do you really want to upset the pilot?”
The businessman clamped his jaw shut and scowled. Crowley glanced back, gave both stern-faced men a quick smile, then turned his attention back to the Graybell jet.
As he pondered where they might be going, Lily’s voice suddenly boomed into their ears. “Jake Crowley, or whatever your name is, you get the hell off our tail or I swear to all the gods I’ll dump the capstone in Lake Mead. Try me if you don’t believe me. I will trigger an apocalypse for America before I’ll let you take this artifact.”
Rose’s mouth fell open and she scrambled for charts beside her seat.
Crowley muted the outside broadcast to address only her. “Don’t bother, I know what she’s talking about. That’s what they’ve done, changed course to reach Lake Mead.”
“Is it a big lake?” Rose asked.
Crowley sighed. “It’s the largest reservoir in the States. Tens of millions of people get their water from it. Irrigation for farming...” He stopped talking, shook his head. “Regardless of what we know about the Key and how it reacts to water, contaminating that lake alone would be disastrous.”
Tears stood in Rose’s eyes again. Crowley wondered how it must feel to discover your sister was a genuine psycho. She was like some kind of comic book supervillain.
“You need to bring them down before they reach the lake,” Rose said.
Crowley nodded. “At whatever cost.”
Rose glanced back at the businessmen behind them, then returned her eyes to meet Crowley’s. This could cost them everything, their very lives, and her look said she knew that. And she knew it had to be that way.
Crowley nodded once, then gunned the engines of the Premier and swooped down above the other plane. He tried to line his nose cone up with a wing and bumped the Cessna hard.
Lily’s screaming blasted from their headsets as Crowley struggled to keep control. The Cessna dipped and twisted in the air.
“What the hell was that?” one passenger yelled.
“Sit down and buckle up,” Crowley shouted back to him. “Bit of turbulence up ahead. It’s gonna get rough!”
The pilot of the Cessna cursed at Crowley, then did nothing to conceal his argument with Lily, demanding she do something to get this idiot away from them.
Crowley banked, shot over the top of their cabin and bumped them again. “Return to Flagstaff!” he shouted. “I am not playing games here!”
Lily shouted instructions at her pilot and the other plane tried evasive maneuvers, changing directions quickly, rising and dropping. Crowley had lost track of where exactly they were and had no time to check his compass, to figure it out. He glanced back into the cabin and the two businessmen sat shocked into terrified silence, knuckles white on the arms of their seats. Crowley banked around for another hit.
“We’re really dogfighting with private jets?” Rose said, incredulity making her voice high. Her knuckles were white too.
“Yes, but these dogs have no teeth. I’d kill even for an old-fashioned Gatling gun right about now.” He clamped his jaw in determination and decided to try something crazy. He banked around again, frantically calculating the proper angle, and lowered his landing gear. It locked down with a loud thump through the fuselage. He lined up again and shot over the other plane. The Premier shook and they all heard a loud crunch.
“What happened?” Rose yelled, almost drowned out by the hollering of the two men in the back, both now animated out of their shock by fear.
Crowley brought the Premier about and caught sight of the Cessna. He smiled. “We took out their rudder and part of their vertical stabilizer.” He pointed to the tail section, where the vertical portion had torn loose. A stream of profanity filled the headsets as Lily cursed at Crowley, at Rose, at the entire world. She was eloquent.
“Are we okay?” Rose asked, ignoring her sister’s ranting.
Crowley consulted the controls, shrugged. “As far as I can see.”
“Our landing gear?”
“We’ll find out about that when we land.”
They watched as the Cessna went into a steep dive.
“Are they crashing?” Rose asked.
“Yep. Unless that pilo
t is incredibly skilled,” Crowley said flatly.
Down below, nothing but flat desert lay in every direction. Then, as Crowley dropped altitude and banked to follow the Cessna down, in the distance, a narrow gorge, and then a highway.
“Could they land on the road?” Rose asked hopefully.
Crowley worked out the angles, then shook his head. “Not a chance. He’d have to make a forty-five-degree turn and that’s not going to happen now with the damage we gave him. His best bet is to get to the ground and hope for the best. But that desert is pretty rough.”
They watched as the Cessna leveled out as it approached the ground. Crowley was impressed with the pilot’s skill, bringing some measure of control to the fast, forced descent. For a moment it looked like he was going to make it, but then the Cessna shuddered and tilted.
“Damn, he’s losing it,” Crowley said.
The small plane hit the earth, landing on its belly, wobbled, and began to spin like a top. By some miracle, it didn’t tumble and tear apart, as Crowley had expected, but continued to skid toward the gorge. The small amount of traffic on the highway had all braked to a halt as the plane slewed towards it, kicking up a whirling cloud of dust. Crowley imagined every driver leaning out the window with their cell phones set to video. This event would be all over YouTube in minutes.
The Cessna careened through the dirt, skipped and bounced as it crossed the highway tarmac, and then finally began to slow as it approached the gorge. Crowley circled, holding his breath as it finally came to a halt, teetering on the edge.
“Please,” Rose whispered, then cried out as the small, wrecked plane tipped and fell in. She began to cry as smoke plumed up from below.
Crowley wanted to comfort her, but he had realized they had problems of their own. Through all the dogfighting he hadn’t paid attention to the fuel gauge and now it read empty, the warning light flashing frantically from the dash.
He barked a curse and Rose looked over at him. “What now?”
“Looks like we need to make an emergency landing, too.”
Chapter 56
Interstate 40, near Diablo Canyon.