The Toymaker (15 page)

CHAPTER 27

“
I
DON’T WANT to be an alarmist.” Jake said. “But we have a bigger problem. Based on my calculations, we can’t make it to Hajjah.”

“Mr. Wiley?” Kaplan asked. “Is Jake right?”

“Jake doesn’t have all the facts.” Wiley said. “It’s going to be tight. No margin for error.”

Jake felt a pit in his stomach grow. He looked out the window at the Earth below. Nothing. Nothing but a black void. He knew the terrain was rugged. He confirmed it when he switched on his night vision goggles.

The JATO bottles had rocketed them upward thousands of feet. During all the excitement, he’d forgotten about their main objective—rescue Isabella Hunt. Landing safely on the ground in Hajjah very well might be the easy part. No telling what awaited them upon arrival. If they made it.

The visibility was nearly unlimited beneath the cirrostratus layer of clouds that hovered above them. To the northeast, he could see the city lights of Sana’a. They looked close but he knew they were at least thirty miles away. Using his NVGs, he could see the outline of the coast of the Red Sea to the west. After they extracted Hunt that would be their next stop.

For the next thirty minutes, Jake watched the altimeter as the gliders gradually drifted toward the mountains below. He planned to switch off his night vision goggles so at least he wouldn’t see it coming. They’d just plow into the side of a mountain and death would be instantaneous.

Jake gazed at the GPS display and compared it to the darkness. The display showed Hajjah to be fifteen miles ahead. In the distance, Jake could see a sparse smattering of lights. They were too low. Flying a glider in Yemen. At night. In the mountains. A hell of a way to die.

He thought back to all those aircraft accidents he’d investigated. The wreckage. The carnage. He never dreamed he’d be part of one himself. Of course, they were going relatively slow in comparison to the accidents he investigated in his prior life. A life that seemed so distant. And yet, it had only been seven months.

Their speed might make a crash survivable. So instead of instant death, he could expect to be maimed for life. Maybe captured alive in Yemen and tortured.
Great. This just gets better every second.

The glider jolted hard. A wave of fear passed over Jake. “What was that?”

“What I’ve been waiting for.” Wiley answered. “With this wind, we’ll get to take advantage of some ridge lift. Not a lot, mind you, but enough to get us to our landing site. I’ll take it from here, Jake.”

“It’s all yours.” Jake watched Wiley gently maneuver the glider along the lift line. The altimeter started rising. The angle from the glider to the lights ahead continually increased to a comfortable margin.

“Kaplan, you doing okay?” Wiley said.

“No sweat.” Kaplan said. “I’m probably a good hundred feet above you now.”

“Yeah.” Jake said. “You think it’s due to less body weight?”

“I have a visual on the landing site.” Wiley announced. “Kaplan, can you confirm a visual?”

“Yes sir. In sight.” Kaplan said. “But I’m too high so I’m going to swing a little wider and line up for a straight-in.”

“That’s fine. Just don’t get too far out.” Wiley said.

“No sir.” Kaplan said. “I’ll keep it a little high and slip it in if I need to.”

Jake was nervous. How good was the old man, he wondered? It didn’t take him long to find out.

With expert precision, Jake watched the old man bank the glider on a final approach to the landing site. With his NVGs on, the site looked small—too small an area to safely land the glider.

The old man didn’t seem concerned. He set the flaps. His speed control, precise. Wiley was flying a perfect glide slope. Jake relaxed a little.

The edge of the mountain came at them fast. The closer they got, the easier it was to read the slope on the landing site.

Slightly uphill. He knew it would be no challenge for Wiley. Kaplan might be a different story.

As the glider flew past the edge of the cliff, Jake tensed his body. Wiley eased back on the joystick and pushed out the air brakes. The glider decelerated rapidly and touched down without a sound on the clay surface. It was over. They made a safe landing. Jake exhaled. He hadn’t realized it until that moment he was holding his breath.

On Wiley’s command, they climbed out of the glider and pulled it as far from the main landing area as possible. A quick glance around. No one in the small village had been alerted to their presence.

Jake looked back toward the edge of the cliff. He could make out Kaplan’s glider—it was coming right at them.

Too fast and too low.

CHAPTER 28

K
APLAN STUDIED THE landscape through his night vision heads-up display. Baraka was right, the entire village of Hajjah was built on a hill—more like a mountain than a hill. The mountainsides were terraced leading up to the top where the town of Hajjah was situated. Most of the terraces appeared to be thirty to forty feet in height. The streets were switchbacks winding from the top of the mountain to the valley below. Both sides of the streets were lined with small-whitewashed houses.

The cliff at the approach end of the landing site had the steepest drop, approximately 500 feet. The field was located immediately past the edge of the cliff. A death wish landing site. If he ran out of altitude before the field, he’d smack into the side of the mountain like a bug colliding with a windshield.

Through his night vision goggles he watched the other glider land. He saw Jake and Wiley move their glider out of the way giving him more room to land. Good. He wanted as large a landing area as possible.

He’d never landed a glider at night. For the record, he’d never flown a glider at night. The NVG display made it easier, though. But even with the NVG display, the landing site didn’t look the same. Depth perception was different at night and he was having some difficulty making the adjustment. Unfortunately he didn’t have the luxury of time. He had to do this right the first time.

He was too low and his airspeed too fast, a combination that allowed him to fix both—once. There was no such thing as a missed approach in a glider, no going around for a second attempt. He had one chance and that was it. He eased back on the joystick and his airspeed slowed, the proper glide path regained.

He sensed something was wrong. What had he forgotten? He glanced down and noticed his speed across the ground was too fast. Then he realized his mistake. He hadn’t deployed the flaps. Short final approach was no time to forget procedures that important. It hadn’t occurred to him before, even with his flat angle of descent.

Kaplan deployed full flaps. The affect was a quick increase in lift, which ballooned him well above his desired glide path. The end of the landing site was approaching fast. He was running out of options.

The glider slowed to the proper airspeed but he was still too high. He had to react or the glider would touch down at the end of the landing site, overrun, and crash.

Slip.

That’s what he’d do. He’d slip the glider down. An uncoordinated maneuver that resulted in an excessive rate of descent but might allow him to lose the extra altitude he’d gained with the flaps.

“Let it work. Let it work.”

It worked. He lost enough altitude, which allowed him to reestablish the proper glide angle. He did a final check on short final. Speed, check. Altitude, check. Flaps, set.

Then it happened. An unexpected gust of wind blew up the side of the mountain—ridge lift. He was a hundred feet from the landing site and the updraft had taken him well above any semblance of making a safe landing.

Kaplan panicked.

He could think of only one thing, drag. He needed extra drag and a lot of it.

Kaplan jammed the air brakes full forward. The spoilers on the top of the wings popped up. It was like the glider hit a wall in mid-air. The nose pitched down and the glider dove for the ground.

Too much. Too much.

Fifty feet to go. He was descending too fast.

He glanced at his airspeed. Too slow. If the glider stalled he would crash into the side of the mountain.

Kaplan retracted the air brakes and felt the glider surge forward. Airspeed increasing. No altitude left, he was at the edge of the landing site. The edge of the cliff. He was going to hit hard.

Kaplan pulled back on the joystick. Further, further. The nose of the glider pitched up as it slammed into the clay surface. The impact caused him to bite his lip. Warm blood trickled down his chin. He felt something give in the back of the aircraft. The tail groaned then kicked up.

The nose of the glider plowed deeper into the landing site. The right wing caught the ground and the aircraft pulled to the right. Loose clay sprayed across the canopy as the glider slid sideways.

Kaplan looked out of the cockpit and saw Jake and Wiley running away from their glider. He was sliding right at them. Not good.

As the glider skidded, the left wing dug into the clay. The friction slowed his forward momentum but he was still on a collision course for the other glider. He braced for impact.

A second later the left wing of Kaplan’s glider skidded underneath the other glider lifting the tail five feet in the air.

The glider stopped, damage done.

Not only had Kaplan wrecked his glider, he might have damaged Wiley’s other glider as well. He had single-handedly ruined the mission and possibly alerted the entire village to their presence.

CHAPTER 29

J
AKE AND WILEY ran toward the sailplane, helped Kaplan get out of the cockpit, and sought cover behind an old shed adjacent to the landing site.

“Do you think you could’ve made a little more noise, Gregg?” Jake studied the surrounding buildings for signs of movement. “You got blood on your shirt.”

Kaplan ran his hand across his mouth. “I bit my lip.”

“Mr. Kaplan, what happened?” Wiley asked.

“A gust from the mountain.” Kaplan said. “I ballooned at the last minute. I didn’t know what else to do but jam on the air brakes.”

“Gregg, I’ve seen dozens of aircraft accidents.” Jake said. “But that’s the first one I ever witnessed.”

“Maybe we should trade places, see how well you do.”

“Quiet. Both of you.” Wiley demanded. “Mr. Kaplan, you made enough noise to wake the dead. I’m afraid someone might have heard and will come investigate. Don’t worry about the aircraft. I’ll take a look at them when it’s safe to move around. For now, keep alert for anyone approaching.”

“Yes, sir.” Kaplan said. “Sorry about the glider.”

Wiley motioned for them to stay put then he moved away in a crouching trot.

 “I thought you said you knew how to fly.” Jake turned to Kaplan. “If you can manage to be quiet, maybe we can look around and make sure the coast is clear.”

“Wiley said stay here.” Kaplan said.

“Stay here then.” Jake whispered. “I’m looking around.”

Jake spent the next ten minutes slipping from building to building, shack to shack, looking for any signs of movement. Just as he was convinced they were in the clear, he saw the figure of a woman in a burqa walking down the hill directly toward Kaplan.

He backtracked in an attempt to approach the woman from behind as she drew closer to Kaplan. The closer she moved toward Kaplan, the closer Jake moved toward her, quarter angling her from behind. He needed to make sure she didn’t cry out for help. They had been lucky so far. No one else showed interest in Kaplan’s mishap with the glider.

The woman was almost on top of where he’d left Kaplan when he noticed Wiley approaching from the opposite quarter angle. Jake knew Wiley was cutting off any angle she had for escape. She needed to be silenced. Gauging from Wiley’s speed and angle, Jake would reach her only a second or two before Wiley.

Jake moved swiftly and silently. The woman seemed intent on reaching her destination, not looking from side to side. She was close. Close enough to recognize the gliders in the darkness. He had to make his move now.

With less than ten steps before he caught her, he broke into a run. The dirt crushed between his shoes and the rock hardened earth—clearly audible with each step. Jake was close enough to grab her when she spun around.

She pointed a gun at Jake’s chest. It was too late for Jake. There was no avoiding a point blank range shot. He didn’t know whether to dive straight into her or hit the ground. A decision he never got to make.

As the woman spun around and raised the pistol, a black figure appeared behind her simultaneously clamping a hand over her mouth and removing the pistol from her grip. Kaplan.

Jake’s heart raced.

The pistol fell to the ground. Kaplan jerked the headwear from the woman and turned her to face him. Then they spoke.

Jake was confused.

Wiley walked over and picked up the pistol. “Is this the woman from Sana’a?”

“Yes.” Kaplan whispered. “This is Baraka.”

Wiley handed her the gun.

“I was near Palace, heard noise. I come make sure nothing wrong.” She pointed at the tangled gliders. “Can still fly, yes?”

“That remains to be seen.” Wiley said. “Come with me Jake, let’s clean up Mr. Kaplan’s mess.”

† † †

Jake and Wiley separated the gliders. Jake pulled Kaplan’s glider free while Wiley lifted the tail of his glider. They worked in quiet synchrony, moving the gliders then inspecting them.

Wiley’s glider was unscathed. Scratches of no consequence on the tail. Kaplan’s glider was not so lucky. The right wing had been damaged by the wing low impact. The left wing tip dented from the slide into the other glider. Neither of which seemed to concern Wiley. He reached into the rear of his glider and pulled out a small leather tool wrap.

With several adjustments to the right wing, made from inside the cockpit, Wiley had cinched the wing back to its normal position. Then he pulled out a roll of black duct tape.