Chase The Rabbit: Gretch Bayonne Action Adventure Series Book #1 (13 page)

              “Holy shit!” I replied. “You are up there right now?”

              “I am, sir,” he replied, “but we have a bit of a situation.”

              “What is it?” I asked, gasping.

              “Well, the damned Graf goes too slow,” he answered.  “I have to stop the engines to stay over her, so I need someone up here right away so I can drop this package.”

              “I’ll be right there!” I said.

              As I opened the hatch to the top, there was a deafening sound whizzing by me. It was Hughes passing over less than fifty feet above my head. It was daylight, but just barely. He seemed to be flying ten times faster than the Graf. He swung around and went high above, then dropped back down way behind the tail end of the airship and stalled his engine. His plane seemed to be gliding, but it was still going very fast and he was headed right for me. Just as I thought he was going to hit me, the plane suddenly pulled up and he dropped a white duffle bag out of the cockpit window. As the roaring plane passed just over my head, the bag slid on the top of the Graf and stopped within two feet of me. A postman handing me a letter could not have done a better job.  It was that precise. 

                                                                      ***

              I grabbed the white bag and went back down the ladder only to find the phone ringing again. 

              “Bay here,” I said.

              “This is Captain Lehmann,” the voice said. “Did you retrieve the package successfully?” 

              “Yes, I got the bag,” I replied.

              “Very good,” Lehmann said. “Please bring it to the control room immediately.”

              “Yes, of course,” I replied. “Is Hearst there?”

              “No,” he said. “He is still in his quarters.”

              “Well, I will wait for him to get up, and then I will take it to him,” I replied.

              “Negative,” the Captain replied. “You must bring it down now.”

              “What time is it, Captain?” I asked.

              “It is 6:07 AM,” he stated. “But Mr. Hearst told us to inform him immediately upon the arrival of the package.”

              “I have to give it to him myself,” I said. “After all, I am responsible for receiving it.”

              “You are onboard my ship, sir,” he said. “And my orders are to retrieve the package for Mr. Hearst as soon as it arrives. I will send an officer up for it now.”

              “Take it easy, Captain,” I said. “You don’t have to do that. I will be right down.”

There was no way I was going to let someone else hand this over to Hearst. It was my idea to begin with, and I was the one who received it from Hughes. They would have to kill me and pry it out of my hands first. I knew where the old man was. It was Room #1 at the front of the hallway, so my plan was to knock on his door myself, with the package in my hands. 

              I made my way down to the cabin area, but instead of going down the ladder that led to the Captain’s control room, I walked all the way down to the cargo area. I figured that way, I could walk up the hallway to Hearst’s door without being intercepted by the crew in the control room. 

              Alvon wasn’t in the cargo area, which was a bit odd, I thought. And neither was the strange Chinese man. But the monkeys were in their cage, sleeping. Thank God. 

              I dashed up the hallway towards Hearst’s room and just as I reached it, I could see Dr. Hugo Eckener and Captain Ernst Lehmann exiting the control room. They would have to walk through the dining room and the sitting room to get to me, so I quickly rapped on Hearst’s door.

              “Yes!” he yelled. “I am coming already!”

              Hearst opened his door. He was in his pajamas and looked half asleep.

              “Bay!” he said. “So you got it? Come in at once!”

              I looked back towards Dr. Eckener and the Captain who were by then within fifteen feet from me. I smiled and

waved to them as I stepped into Hearst’s sleeping quarters and closed the door.

              “I want to see it!” Hearst said, as we both sat on the tiny bed. 

              I carefully opened the white canvas bag. Inside was a black briefcase labeled ‘film’ which I sat on my lap. I flipped the two latches up and lifted the lid. Inside the briefcase were six film canisters and a handwritten note.

              It read, “Here you go, old man. You owe me one! I want a credit in the movie as ‘courier.’” It was signed “Howard!”

              “That magnificent bastard!” Hearst laughed. “He did it!”

              Hearst smiled at me, holding the letter up over his head in triumph.

              “You should have seen it, sir!” I said. “He timed it just right! He flew in real low at the tail of the ship then shut off his engines…”

              “Yes?” Hearst asked excitedly.

              “He was headed straight for me, no more than fifteen feet off the back of the Graf! I thought he was going to run right into me!”

              “Howard is the best pilot in the world!” Hearst said.

              “Then, all of a sudden,” I continued, “his arm came out of the cockpit! He dropped the package then went straight up, just missing me by feet!”

              “Amazing!” Hearst said.

              “The air rush from his plane blew the package straight to me! It nearly knocked me off my feet. All I had to do was reach down and pick it up!”

              “So there was no parachute?” Hearst asked.

              “No parachute,” I answered. “I wouldn’t have thought of it, but when I witnessed him doing it, I realized his plan.”

              “What is that?” Hearst asked.

              “Had he used a parachute,” I answered, “it probably would have carried in the wind and not landed on the ship at all.”

              “Of course!” Hearst said, nodding his head in agreement. “So Howard literally rolled the package right to you!” Hearst said.

              “Like a damned bowling ball,” I answered. “And it was a strike!”

              Hearst was shaking his head in disbelief. “Get this film to Hartmann,” he said. “What time is it, anyway?”

              “I don’t know,” I said. “Probably around 6:30 AM.”

              “We’ve got to get ready then!” Hearst yelled. “We’ll be at the Olympics in two hours! Go, man!”

              I grabbed the briefcase full of film and exited Hearst’s little room only to be greeted by Captain Lehmann and Captain Clipboard who were obviously waiting for me.

              “Where are you going with that case?” Lehmann asked.

              “To the cameraman’s room,” I answered, “on Hearst’s orders.”

              “Okay,” said the Captain. “As long as it is on Hearst’s direct orders.”

              “You fly the ship,” I said. “I’ve got this.”

              Lehmann turned on his heels in a huff and walked back towards the control room. 

“You shouldn’t be so hard on the Captain,” Klaus said. “He was just following orders.”

              “I understand,” I said. “Everyone on this ship is just following orders. No one seems to make up anything on their own. Not on this ship. Not anywhere. That’s the problem in the world. Everyone just takes orders.”

              “If we didn’t follow orders,” Klaus said, “what kind of world do you think we would have?”

              “I don’t know,” I said. “But I know wrong from right.  I don’t need anyone to tell me that.”

              Klaus was following me down the hallway, and I got the impression he was doing so on orders.

              “Dammit!” I said, stopping. “Which room is Hartmann in?” I asked.

              Klaus didn’t have his clipboard with him for once. It was odd. I’d never seen him without it.

              “I don’t remember either,” he said. “I will find out for you! I will be right back!”

              “That’s just great!” I said, raising my voice as he ran down the hall back towards the control room. 

             
They all have to get up now anyway
, I thought, so I just started knocking on doors. I didn’t even bother waiting for a reply. I just went from one door to the next, banging, until nearly simultaneously, everyone was opening their chambers half asleep. Suddenly, everyone was shouting all at once again.

              “What the hell?”

              “Who is banging!”

              “I am trying to sleep in here!”

              “How dare you wake me like this!”

              “Are we there?”

              Hartmann opened his door, and I made my way through the pandemonium of the others and pushed him back inside his room, closing the door behind me.

              “I got it!” I said, holding the briefcase up. “I got the film!”

              “That’s great,” he said, sitting back down on his bed.

              “Well, you don’t seem very excited,” I said.

              “No, no, I am very glad you got it,” he said.

              “What is wrong then?” I asked.

              He got up and walked to the door, making sure it was locked.

              “You can’t tell anyone this,” he said.

              “Okay,” I answered. “What?”

              “I had a case of film that apparently went missing,” he said.

              “You mean you had extra film?” I asked.

              “Of course,” he said. “I had a case of extra film with me. Twelve reels in a box in the cargo area. I am a professional. I would never run out of film.”

              Hartmann sat back down on his bed holding his head in his hands. 

              “I looked everywhere,” he said. “But it is gone!”

              “Why didn’t you tell Hearst that from the beginning?” I asked.

              “What good would it have done?” he asked. “The box with the film is gone. Just vanished. And it would have made it appear that I was making excuses!”

              “But it’s not your fault that the box of film went missing,” I said.

              “Nor is it my fault that Hearst had me shoot all of these scenes that we did not plan for,” he answered. 

              “Explain to me again,” I said, “why you didn’t mention the box of missing film, I must have missed something here.”

              “You don’t know Hearst very well,” he said, “do you, Mr. Bay?”

              “I guess not,” I answered. “I’ve gotten to know him a bit over the last 24 hours.”

              “He would see that as an excuse,” Hartmann said. “And not a resolution to the problem at hand. He would see it as me making excuses for a bad situation. And I was not being accused of causing the bad situation to begin with, so absolutely no good would have come from me revealing it.”

              “But something happened to the film,” I said.

              “Yes,” he replied. “It is very disturbing.”

              “Are those your flashbulbs down in the cargo area?” I asked.

              “Flashbulbs?” he asked. “No. I do very little still photography these days.”

              “I found boxes upon boxes filled with camera flashbulbs down there,” I said. “Alvon said he thought they must belong to you.”

              “No,” Hartmann said. “That is odd.”

              Suddenly there was a knock at the door. 

              “Hartmann,” a voice called out. “Mr. Hearst requires you in ten minutes!”

                “You won’t tell anyone about the missing case of film, right?” Hartman said.

              “Of course not,” I answered. 

              “Thank you,” he said. “Well, I guess I better get dressed! We are going to be at the Olympics soon and I have a lot of film to shoot! Why don’t you come with me?”

              “I have something else to do,” I answered.

Chapter Eleven