Flight into Darkness (Flight Trilogy, Book 2) (12 page)

“Mommy, please let me go with you,” Martha pleaded.

“No. You start getting ready for your bath.”

Keri descended the stairs, flipped on the foyer light, then the porchlight. She glanced quickly through the small peephole, remembering that the porchlight was out—something Ryan had told her he would fix. The glare from the foyer light made it hard to see into the darkness.

She unlatched the bolt lock and opened the door slightly. A man’s shoe slid into the small opening between the door jam and the door, blocking it from being closed. The door jerked violently, pushing her back against the stairway banister. Two men rushed into the house and closed the door.

“Who are you?! What do you want?!”

One man towered over her, his shoulders wide, his arms like tree trunks. His head was buried in the shadow of a hooded jacket, his eyes hidden behind narrow glasses. In his right hand he gripped a black handgun. His large paws were sheathed in latex gloves. The other man was small and frail, at least a foot shorter, maybe more.

He’s
going
to
kill
me
!
Then
the
children
!

“Mommy!” Martha screamed from the top of the stairs. “Mommy!”

Keri glanced up at the children, both clinging to the banister at the top of the stairs. “Go to your room! Lock the door!”

David, unable to hear, sensed the danger. He pulled on Martha but could not break her grip on the banister. She screamed louder with each pull. “Stop! I want my Mommy!”

The tall man, unaffected by the child’s screams, calmly said, “No, no, no…everything will be just fine.” He looked up at the children. “Children, why don’t you come down and join us. I think your mommy would like that…wouldn’t you, Keri?”

Martha’s cries grew louder, unable to process her fear, “I WANT MY MOMMY!”

“Keri,” the tall man said, remaining calm and contained, “please tell your children to come down here, now.”

Keri turned to the hooded man. “How do you know who I am? What do you want?”

“Mrs. Mitchell, forgive my manners…” he said in a relaxed and soft voice, “…may I call you, Keri?”

“Who are you?”

“There will be plenty of time for that later.”

Keri yelled, “Martha, you and David go to your room! Lock the door!”

The tall man stepped in closer to Keri, clamping his monstrous, free hand around her throat, squeezing ever so slightly, pinning her against the banister. The hot, rubbery palm pressed against her windpipe causing her to hack and gasp for air. Something jammed into her ribs, inches below her left breast.

The
gun
!

She flinched. Desperately searching for relief, her eyes darted to the man’s face, now illuminated by the light from a lamp in the den. His ghostly-white face caused her to gasp. She coughed. His tight grip cut off her attempt to draw needed air into her lungs.

“Now, Keri, dear, everything will be okay if you simply do as I say. Do we understand each other?” Through clinched teeth, the man repeated, “Do we understand each other?”

His warm rancid breath hit her face. She caught a foul whiff of onions and coffee. She wanted to vomit. His grip tightened around her throat. Desperate for air and unable to speak, she nodded to indicate she understood.

“Good,” he said, loosening his grip and removing his hand.

Keri gulped in air. Coughed. Her hands reached for her throat, massaging it where the man had left his latex imprint.

Martha screamed, “Mommie!” She broke free of David’s grasp and raced for her mother. David followed. Martha latched onto Keri with both arms. Keri pulled her close and put her other arm around David.

“Now, Keri, you and the children follow my little friend into the den and have a seat on the couch.”

The children remained glued to her side as she struggled to the couch. Martha’s cries turned to whimpers.

Keri looked at the small man. He appeared less threatening, almost normal. He was wearing dark slacks, a black-collared shirt, and latex gloves. He was clean shaven with neatly-trimmed, black hair. The lenses of his glasses were unusually thick. His dark skin, heavy brow, and general features made him appear to be Middle Eastern. So far, he hadn’t spoken a word.

The tall man appeared unaffected by her near-death experience as he sauntered over to her. “Keri, I want you to call Ryan.”

How
does
he
know
Ryan’s
name
?

“I have something I would like to discuss with him. Of course, the moment he hears a man’s voice coming from his wife’s cell phone, he will suspect something is wrong. He’ll, no doubt, insist that I let him talk with you. I will let him speak with you, and you will tell him to please do what the bad man tells him to do. Keri, do you understand?”

“What do you want? Why are you here?”

“Keri, you need to calm down.” He leaned down, his face only inches from hers. “Just do as I say. Do you understand?”

She nodded, afraid he might grab her throat again.

“Good.” He stood up, stretched, and smiled down at Keri. “Now, where is your cell phone?”

“In my purse.” Her eyes glanced toward the table in the foyer. “Over there.”

The short man said, “I’ll get it.” His high-pitched voice was as Keri had imagined. He quickly retrieved the phone and handed it to the tall man.

The tall man flipped open the phone and started pressing buttons on the keypad. “Here it is: RYAN. How convenient.”

“I can’t do it,” she said.

“Of course you can, dear.”

“What do you want him to do? Is it money? Do you want money? I’ll give you money.”

“Like I said, dear, all you need to do, now, is tell your husband you’re okay. If he wants you to
remain
okay, he’ll need to do what the man wants.”

“What happens if he won’t do what you want?”

“We don’t need to talk about that now. What you need to do
now
is agree to do exactly as I tell you.”

Martha’s head was buried under her mother’s protective wing. “Mommy, I’m scared. I want daddy.”

Keri pulled her in tight. “Honey, everything’s going to be fine.”

“Let me explain something, Keri.” The tall man leaned down, his eyes peering over the rims of his narrow spectacles. He whispered, “If you can’t do this for me, I’ll not only kill you and your children and leave you for the police to find, I’ll make it look like your husband did it before he left for work.”

Suddenly, she thought of Emily. A chill raced up the back of her neck like some creature crawling under her skin looking for a safe place to hide. She couldn’t help but wonder if this was the same lunatic that murdered Emily. A wave of dizziness swept through her head. Keri said, “Who are you?”

“Keri, I’m sorry. Forgive me for not properly introducing myself. I guess we can take a minute. You can call me Sam.” He turned toward Martha. “You know…like the cat with the hat:
Sam
I
Am
.” He smiled at Martha. She gripped her mother with all of her might and buried her face in her side.

“This is all wrong,” she said. “What do you want with us? My husband can’t help you.” Her body trembled uncontrollably. All she could think about was Emily and Rex.

Samael took a deep breath then stood. “Keri, I’m starting to lose my patience with you. I don’t have all night.”

“What do you want with Ryan? Just tell me.”

“I think you’d better start thinking about your two beautiful children and all the other children who will die if you don’t cooperate. Because after I kill you and your children, I’ll kill another family, and another, and another. I’ll keep doing it, Keri, until I find a pilot and his wife who will make the right choice.”

She said nothing.

He
must
be
the
one
who
murdered
Emily
.

“Keri, do you want me to continue killing?”

She said nothing.

“You see, Keri, you are not the first and, if you don’t cooperate, you won’t be the last. Think of it this way, if you help me, you will not only save yourself and your children’s lives, but you will save the lives of others. I know you don’t want to be the cause of the deaths of others, now do you? I’m certain once your husband weighs the alternatives, he will be more than happy to sacrifice his life for the lives of his dear wife and children.”

“Are you serious? I can’t put him in that position.”

“What position?”

“Choosing who’s going to die. You must be mad! You want him to do something with his airplane, don’t you? You want him to kill innocent people. I can’t do it. I won’t do it.”

“Keri, they’re just people. People you don’t even know.”

I
knew
it
!
It’s
him
!

“Keri, it’s an easy decision. I’m sure your husband will be willing to save the lives of his family in exchange for a few hundred people he doesn’t even know; people who could care less about him or his family. Besides, he’ll be dead. It’s not like he’ll have to live with the guilt of killing those people.”

“I know Ryan. He won’t do it. You might as well kill us now.”

“Do you really believe he’ll choose strangers over you?”

“If he chooses us,” she said, “who says you won’t kill us anyway?”

“Well, I guess it comes down to trust, doesn’t it Keri? But for now, that’s something you don’t have to worry about. Your husband is the one who will have to make a choice. Life is all about making choices and taking risks. I suspect if given the choice, most people would sacrifice their life for the lives of their loved ones. As for me, I personally don’t see the dilemma. I’d much rather choose death.”

She met his eyes.

This
freak
is
seriously
deranged
.

“Keri, what’s your problem? I’m quite certain your husband will make the right decision.”

David could read the man’s body and facial expressions, but could not hear his words. Martha heard everything. The thought of her five-year-old daughter hearing this man talk about death and killing was more than Keri could stand. If only to stop the morbid talk, she surrendered. She met the pendulous eyes of the albino man and said, “Go ahead, call him. I’ll do what you want.” She could only hope Ryan would think of something.

The tall, white freak smiled. He pressed a button on the cell phone’s keypad then moved the phone to his left ear.

CHAPTER 15

8:05 p.m.

Ryan glanced down at the speedometer. The digital readout glowed—73—eight over the posted 65 mph limit. It normally took ten or more over the posted limit to wake any patrolmen that might be hiding in the shadows.

Ahead of schedule and assured of arriving at the airport with plenty of time to spare, he piloted the car through the darkness like a wingless jet. The flow of traffic was steady, but thin.

The one positive about flying all-nighters was the relatively quiet drive to the airport. During the day, the hyper-dynamic circulation of vast freeway arteries throughout Southern California was notorious for producing toxic levels of needless stress and rage.

Ryan stored a mental map of the journey from his house to LAX. He measured his progress with methodical perfection. The car’s on-board computer provided a wide range of information which fed his insatiable thirst for details: average fuel consumption, average speed, range till empty, driver-defined speed limit warnings; all accessed with the touch of a finger from a control stalk on the steering column and viewed in the car’s central instrument display.

The 68 mile trek unraveled in orderly parcels delivering a satisfying sense of accomplishment. After countless trips to LAX, he habitually, almost subliminally, compared the passing of key landmarks with the tripometer. At any given point, he knew the exact number of miles and minutes that remained.

Droning through the dark, he preferred silence to music or mindless talk radio. An occasional chirp emitted from the radar detector mounted high on the windscreen. The CHP (California Highway Patrol) normally used tactics that make a radar detector worthless, but more than once, the detector had saved him from the jaws of a speed trap. The radar guns used by the CHP send out signals that are loud, clear, and constant. There is no mistaking them for a lost electron from a local, retail establishment searching for a patron to strike.

His thoughts drifted to his family. Keri had said she planned to take the kids out tomorrow, possibly to the beach or a movie. He had a vacation to look forward to, once he put this trip behind him. He had booked reservations at the Hilton Waikoloa Village on the Big Island of Hawaii. The kids had been looking forward to it all year, especially the Dolphin Quest and hotel sponsored day camps for keiki, or “little people”. He had promised they’d make the trip once Martha turned five.

He snapped from his trance when his cell phone rang. The familiar ringtone told him it was Keri. Had he left something: his identification badge, wallet, keys? In a matter of seconds, his free hand touched the critical items: his back pocket, his right, front pocket, the lapel on his coat lying in the passenger's seat beside him. Everything was there. He also distinctly remembered loading his suitcase, kitbag, and gun in the trunk.

A second ring sounded. He lifted his cell from its holder, clipped on his belt. Flipping it open, he pressed TALK. “Hi baby, what's up?”

“Hello, Captain Mitchell,” an unfamiliar man’s voice said, “I must say…you are a lucky man.”

“Who is this?”

“There’s no need for alarm, Captain Mitchell, or do you mind if I call you, Ryan?” The strange voice was unnervingly calm. “Your family is safe…and will remain so, as long as you do exactly as I say.”

Ryan’s chest tightened. His heart raced. “Let me talk to my wife.”

“Certainly. Let me put her on.”

Keri’s voice quivered. “Ryan, we’re alright,” she said. “The children are here with me. They’re fine. He says if you follow his instructions, he won’t hurt us.”

Martha cried out, “Daddy! I’m scared!”

“Martha! I’m right here!”

Click
!