Lovers and Gamblers (72 page)

‘Bathroom’s over there.’ He indicated a hidden door in the padded walls. ‘What shall I order for you? A drink? Food? You name it – we’ve got it.’

‘This whole thing must cost you a fortune!’

‘Tax deductible.’

‘I’ll have a Bloody Mary. You are going to allow me to have alcohol, aren’t you?’

He grinned. ‘’Bout as much as you allow me. I’m sweating like a pig – I’ll have a shower as soon as we take off.’ He threw off his clothes and put a bathrobe over his undershorts. Then he picked up an intercom phone and snapped, ‘Cathy – two Bloody Marys right now. How long before take-off?’

* * *

Cathy Howard hung up the intercom phone and made a face. She wished Al King could be like everyone else and
wait
for his drink. Didn’t he realize she had other things to do just before take-off? Besides that, she felt terrible. Telling Van the truth last night had been a tremendous strain. Why couldn’t he have taken it like a man instead of dissolving into pitiful tears? She had been shocked. Van had never shown one ounce of emotion throughout their ten-year marriage. Perhaps if he had, things might have been different…

She busied herself in the small galley with tomato juice, vodka, and ice cubes. Al liked his drinks just so – he always insisted that she fixed them personally.

Wendy, the other stewardess, rushed in. ‘Did you get a load of the mechanic with the Baptista party?’ she asked. ‘Mmm… tasty. I wouldn’t sling
him
out of bed!’

‘
You
wouldn’t sling
anyone
out of bed,’ Cathy replied crisply.

Wendy had started the trip as Harry Booker’s girlfriend. That had lasted all the way to Chicago, when they had both decided to go their own ways. Since that time Wendy had undertaken her own personal survey of the sexual habits of the American male.

‘Who are the drinks for?’ Wendy asked.

‘Mr. King, of course.’

‘You want me to take them?’

‘I can manage, thank you.’

Wendy pouted. ‘Why do
you
always have to do everything for him?’

‘Because
I’m
chief stew. Anyway, he likes me.’

‘Given half a chance he could like me,’ Wendy muttered. ‘Are you feeling OK? You look terrible.’

‘Well enough to take him his drinks, thank you.’

* * *

The
FASTEN YOUR SEAT BELTS NO SMOKING
signs had flashed on.

Bernie was sitting up front rapping with the two journalists.

Paul was engrossed in the contracts, making notes on a separate piece of paper.

Evan had settled into a secluded seat at the back, near the door to Al’s private bedroom, and he was studying his latest batch of girlie magazines, trying to decide between Elvira, who loved horses and had the biggest knockers he’d ever seen, or Yana, whose widely spread legs displayed a healthy abandon for wide open spaces.

Cristina sat opposite Louis and Nino, a table separating them. She had paled beneath her suntan, and her eyes were wide and alarmed. Under her breath she whispered. ‘Help me, God – Please help me. I promise to be good. I promise to do everything my parents want. I promise to be the perfect daughter. But please please God help me out of this mess.’

And what a mess it was. Nino had turned up to meet them all right. He had smiled, his eyes blazing intently. And he had said, quite politely, ‘How are you, Louis? How does it feel to have a gun pointing at your belly?’

And she had laughed, thinking it was a joke, thinking he was kidding. But he had moved insidiously towards her, pressing himself against her so that she could feel the pressure of the metal, and he had said, ‘Tell your boyfriend to do as he is told, Cristina. Tell him or I’ll blow his guts out.’

With a sudden fear she had known that this was no joke. ‘Do as he says, Louis. He means it.’

Louis had stared at her with an expression of disbelief. ‘What is this…’ he began.

‘Shut up and start walking,’ Nino had interrupted. ‘Walk ahead of me, I’ll tell you where to go.
Both
of you ahead of me.’

She hadn’t dared to argue. She hadn’t dared to say another word. She had just followed Nino’s instructions, and now here they were bound for São Paulo where she didn’t know what would happen.

Louis hadn’t looked at her once. He just stared straight ahead with a stony expression. He probably thought she was a part of it. He probably thought she had tricked him. And the horrible truth was that she had – but she hadn’t meant to, hadn’t wanted to. And had certainly not been aware of the fact that Nino would have a gun.

The jet was taxiing down the runway, preparing for takeoff. A stewardess touched Cristina on the arm, and she jumped.

‘Sorry,’ said the stewardess, ‘did I startle you? Just wanted to check that you have your seat belt fastened.’

She smiled provocatively at Nino. ‘All done up?’ she asked, flashing admirable teeth.

He nodded, returning her smile, stripping her with his eyes.

‘I’ll be back to see what you’d like to drink as soon as we’re airborne,’ she said, instinctively smoothing down her skirt.

* * *

‘You’ve got everything organized,’ Dallas remarked.

‘Sure,’ agreed Al, ‘I like my privacy.’

He had settled them both into a small couch with concealed seatbelts. He indicated a niche for her to place her glass in.

‘How many ladies have you had on this plane?’

He grinned. ‘No ladies.’

The jet began to pick up speed, thundering down the runway, then lifting up into the sky with a lyrical ease.

Al leaned over and kissed her, softly, insistently. She parted her mouth to accept his kiss, teased him with her tongue. ‘I think,’ he said gruffly, ‘I’m going to like this flight.’

‘I think,’ she replied, ‘we both are.’

* * *

Nino licked dry lips. His throat was parched, and he was dying for a glass of water. No time for that though. No time for anything except putting his plan into operation.

He glanced swiftly at Louis sitting silently beside him. He had been easy enough to handle. Rich boy frightened of getting a bullet in the stomach.

Cristina was staring at him with an accusing expression. He knew she was beside herself to speak to him – but she couldn’t – didn’t want to let her precious Louis know that she had been in on it.

Nino allowed himself a small, tight smile, and his hand caressed the gun in his pocket lovingly. What power it gave him. What wonderful incredible power.

The jet had stopped climbing and was levelling out. The seatbelt and no smoking signs flashed off.

Out of the corner of his eye Nino saw the two hostesses spring into action, bustling around taking drink orders. Rock music filtered through the speaker systems.

‘I’ll tell you what we are going to do,’ Nino said in a low voice. ‘Lean forward and listen, Cristina.’

She did as she was told. Louis glared at him, wanting to speak but not quite sure if he dared.

‘This plane has three bombs aboard. Only I know where they are. Shortly I will tell the rest of the passengers. If everyone cooperates with me, no one will get hurt. If they don’t’– he shrugged – ‘too bad for all of us.’

Cristina gasped. ‘Nino! Are you mad?’

Louis joined in. ‘He’s not mad, he’s bluffing. I know for a fact that Al King’s plane is searched by security guards before he boards it.’

‘An hour, sometimes two hours before he boards. Plenty of time left for a mechanic with an authorized pass to come aboard and do what he has to do.’

Louis said, his voice strained, ‘What are you doing this for?’

‘Ask your girlfriend, she knows all about it. Now I want you two to sit here quietly while I go and have a word with the captain. I should advise you not to tell anyone – I shall do so soon enough. Should anyone attack me, try to knock me out – that would be very unfortunate. The bombs are due to go off at fifteen-minute intervals half an hour from now. Only I can stop them. And please don’t forget the fact that I have a gun – a weapon that I am quite prepared to use.’ He undid his seatbelt and stood up. ‘The safest thing for you two is to just sit tight. I wouldn’t
want
to hurt either of you, but I can assure you I would.’ He set off down the centre aisle of the plane towards the flight deck.

Cristina looked helplessly at Louis. ‘I’m sorry…’ she began, ‘I didn’t know… didn’t realize…’

‘Didn’t know
what?
’ hissed Louis. ‘How much
did
you know?
You
arranged to meet him.
You
got us on the plane. This all must have been planned… you
knew
all along.’

‘I didn’t know what he planned. I didn’t know he had a gun, bombs. Do you think I would have helped him if I’d known that?’

‘So you
were
helping him?’

‘I only…’

‘Shh – he’s talking to the stewardess. As soon as he’s out of sight I must tell someone.’

* * *

Wendy was fixing drinks for the journalists when Nino came up. She winked. ‘Can’t wait, huh? In that case, what’s your pleasure?’

‘I’d like to talk to the pilot.’

‘Sorry – forbidden ground. Now what do you want to drink?’

‘I have a gun in my pocket,’ Nino said pleasantly. ‘It’s pointing right at you.’ He gestured with the outline of it. ‘Shall we go?’

‘Oh no!’ said Wendy. ‘Oh, Jesus, no!’

‘Come on. Move. Walk in front of me and keep smiling.’

* * *

They were always trying to screw you.

Always trying to make points.

Always slipping in goddamn stupid clauses that a twelve-year-old would spot!

Angrily Paul made copious notes. Who the fuck did Lew Margolis think he was dealing with? A bunch of amateurs, for Chrissake? A bunch of schoolkids?

Paul always checked the contracts before passing them on to the lawyers. He could spot things that the lawyers wouldn’t even notice. What did they care? As long as their astronomical bills were paid.

And who did all the work? Who saved Al thousands of pounds by going through the small print? He did of course. Baby brother. The schmuck who never got any appreciation. The schmuck who was treated like a combination of Bernie and Luke. Chief gofer.

Linda was right. Linda had always been right. And where the hell had
she
been last night? It was difficult enough getting through to Los Angeles – but he had managed it three times – and three times her phone had rung and nobody had picked up. It was just too bad. He had told her he would probably be phoning. The least she could have done was stay in.

He had promised her marriage – wasn’t that what she had been angling for? Wasn’t that what she wanted?

It just wasn’t good enough. She was playing games with him and he didn’t
need
that crap.

Louis Baptista slid into the seat beside him. Christ! Conversation he didn’t need, either.

‘Don’t panic – don’t panic—’ Louis’s voice was high-pitched and nervous – ‘we’re being hijacked – he’s got a gun – bombs. He’s with the pilot now.’

‘Whhaat?’

‘Nino. He’s mad – quite mad. What shall we do? What shall we do?’

* * *

Van Howard knew at once what was happening. As soon as Wendy pushed her way onto the flight deck – every drop of colour gone from her face – the dark boy behind her – he knew.

Every pilot had imagined himself in the situation a thousand times. They even used to give lessons on what to do at the airline he had worked for. Stay calm. Don’t panic. If it’s not possible to disarm the hijacker/hijackers, then go along with what they say. Reassure the passengers. Under no account put their lives at risk. Try and maintain radio contact with control. All of this flashed through Van’s mind before the terrified Wendy uttered a word.

‘He’s – he’s got a gun in my back,’ she gasped.

* * *

Al finished showering and called out, ‘You want to join me?’

‘No, thanks, I find showering in the middle of the sky absolutely crazy!’ Dallas sat cross-legged in the centre of the bed and sipped her Bloody Mary.

‘Don’t knock it if you haven’t tried it,’ Al walked back into the bedroom knotting the cord of his bathrobe. He joined her on the bed and started to laugh.

‘What’s the matter?’ Dallas asked.

‘First time I ever shared a bed with a girl I haven’t given one to.’

‘Your English expressions are so cute!’

‘Fuck you.’

‘Another cute expression!’

‘Now look…’

She smiled at him, stopping him in his tracks.

‘I think…’ he said.

‘I think so too.’

He stared at her earnestly. ‘Are you sure?’

‘I’m as sure as I’ll ever be.’

He reached for her, and she moved towards him willingly.

‘I’ve waited a long time for this,’ he whispered, shrugging off his bathrobe.

‘Me too,’ she whispered back, running her fingers lightly over his chest.

‘Christ!’ he muttered. ‘You want to see what I’ve got for you?’

‘I can see, I can see.’

‘Just a minute,’ he reached over to the panel surrounding the bed and pressed a few buttons.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Locking the door and turning off the intercom. Now nothing can disturb us.’

* * *

By the time Louis had garbled out a story that Paul understood, it was too late. Van Howard’s voice was booming out through the speaker system. ‘This is your captain speaking,’ he said calmly, as if he was just about to give them a weather and altitude report. ‘We seem to have a slight problem here.’

Cathy, busying herself with a tuna fish sandwich and a chocolate milkshake for Bernie, stopped to listen. What slight problem? It was a beautiful clear night, no turbulence, a short hop. What problem?

‘It seems we have a gentleman on board who would prefer us to land elsewhere. He has asked me most persuasively, and for the safety of all of us I feel that I must comply with his wishes.’

‘What the fuck?’ said Bernie, who had been only half listening. ‘Did I fuckin’ hear right?’

One of the journalists nodded nervously. ‘I think maybe we are being hijacked.’

‘Hijacked!’ Bernie boomed. ‘The fuck we are.’

‘There is absolutely no need for any kind of panic,’ Van’s voice continued. ‘We have a full tank of fuel, and I would like you all to move to the back section of the plane and sit together. Please do that now. Cathy – please organize this procedure.’