Authors: Mike Handcock
“Yes, that would be nice. But I have to tell you that these people are committed, very well funded and professional. You have beaten them twice. I wouldn’t bank on a third time. They will have eyes and ears everywhere. What’s your plan?”
The Eagle was a tough and battle-hardened individual and frankly David was very glad to have his counsel.
“We have a private jet. It’s always on standby. We will jump in that and head to the USA. That’s where we need to go.”
“Hmmn.” The Eagle scratched his chin. “David, my daughter seems very fond of you as I said. You would last about two minutes over US air space in a plane registered to you. They will blow you out of the sky. I’ll lend you one of my planes.”
Rocko coughed on his pizza.
“Did you say ‘one’ of your planes? Who the hell are you people? You have my favourite food and spare planes.”
“Mr Rizotto, in our line of work we acquire many things that used to belong to people who didn’t deserve to have them. Let’s just call it fringe benefits and it doesn’t include artefacts and weapons.” The Eagle thought for a minute and then continued.
“Send your plane up to Cairo. That will give you a ten-hour jump on them. I’ll have one of my people stamp you out of South Africa. In the meantime I’ll lend you my favourite plane. It’s fast, sleek and comfortable. Head out low over the Atlantic and shoot for Patagonia in Argentina. Then swing up to Cusco and jump from there into my second plane. It’s on the runway there. I got it from a Brazilian drug lord about a year back. Let’s just say he doesn’t need it anymore. We can get that cleared for a USA entry over New Orleans. No one will notice you come in there. You can refuel with an old navy buddy of mine who runs a small private airport for mainly old warplanes. From there I will leave it up to you.”
The Eagle turned his head to Stacey.
“I see you’re the techie girl, but you may as well leave those computers here. I will put them on the Cairo flight. They will be traceable, even though I guess you have them encrypted. I will give you a couple of state-of-the-art laptops that no one will ever trace. Just take a few minutes and transfer across what you need. Oh and finally I’ll book a nice hotel for your pilots and crew. We will tell them it’s a reward trip.”
“Mr Bec, you seem to think of everything. How can we repay you?” said David
“Ah, doesn’t matter about the money. I stole it anyway… ha ha. Just keep my baby out of harm’s way, David.”
“Abbey… no … she can’t come. I can’t put her in any more danger.”
Abbey reached across and put her arms on David shoulders and started to massage them from behind. It felt good.
“My love – who do you think is going to pilot the plane if I don’t come?”
David turned and looked her in those startling blue eyes. “You fly planes also?” he said, his own steel-grey eyes smiling in even more admiration for this exceptional woman. She wiped a curl of hair from his forehead. “Is there anything you can’t do?”
“Good god, David. Get a grip man,” the Eagle humphed. “For god’s sake don’t let her near the kitchen. She will burn the bloody house down.”
“Dad… really,” Abbey gleamed.
“Oh I can live with that,” said David smiling. “I’m a great cook… right Rocko?”
Rocko rolled his eyes.
It was agreed. They were heading to Patagonia.
The Gulfstream G650ER took off from Cape Town airport just 90 minutes later with Abbey at the controls. It was almost a brand new plane capable of Mach 0.90 with a range of over 13,000 kilometres. David sat beside her just admiring her and literally beaming. He was in love and he knew it. He had never met anyone like her – stunningly beautiful, clever, highly skilled, a profound warrior, pilot and in fact one of the most beautiful souls he had ever encountered. He put his hand on her lap and stroked her leg as the Gulfstream lifted into the morning sky.
“If you keep doing that I will get Rocko to fly this thing David,” Abbey smiled and clasped his hand in hers.
In the plush interior Rocko and Stacey were resting. In the hour that they were at the Eagle’s they had all
showered, dressed quickly, Abbey lending Stacey clothes she had at her dad’s, and Rocko and David making the best of some new t-shirts they found in the closets of the plane. The previous owner had some taste by the look of it, keeping new designer t-shirts and some coats and formal wear on his plane.
Abbey leant into the plane almost at one with it as she turned the machine on its side and rolled it out over Bloubergstrand and off over the beautiful Western Cape at a little under three thousand feet. The plane was equipped with everything they needed and would just make Patagonia where they would need to refuel. Once they were out of South African air space Abbey lifted the Gulfstream to a cruise height and set the autopilot. Then she took David by the hand, stood him up and opened the door. Rocko and Stacey were already asleep in two huge recliners. Rocko had found that scotch. That was no surprise.
David looked at her and said. “My love, I always make sure someone is on deck. I know you will be tired, but should I at least stay and watch the radar?”
Abbey smiled at David. She loved his cute ways. He was such an adventurer, but he was cautious as well. Then at other times she knew he would be loose and off the wall, when there wasn’t something to occupy his brilliant mind.
“My love,” she said, smiling at him. “This is a state-of-the art jet. It’s the top of the Gulfstream range. The radar has a warning system. I have set it so that if anything gets within fifty miles of us, it will wake the whole plane. There is nothing over the ocean in this part of the world. We are literally flying in no man’s land. Nothing to worry about.”
“Ok,” David replied. “That seems ok. Rocko will freak if he goes up front. But fifty miles is a long way.”
“Yes it is. At this speed it will be a good thirty seconds before we hit something, ha ha.”
David just looked at Abbey, but still holding his hand she weaved him between Rocko and Stacey and walked to the rear of the jet through a small galley on the starboard and bathroom on the port.
Here there was a locked door. David had seen it on boarding but just figured it was storage, given the eight seats of which Stacey and Rocko were on two.
Abbey opened the door and drew David in with that look on her face that said: “We won’t be out for a while.” This was no storage area. It was a very well-appointed master suite with a king-sized bed facing them. Behind the bed were gold-trimmed mirrors. The walls were fixed with paintings of parts of the Andes.
Abbey closed the door behind them and flicked the lock to keep out a prying Rocko, when and if he woke up. She drew David close and kissed him, passionately drawing him into her heat. They had known each other only a short time, but it felt to both of them like a connection from forever. There they were on a quest, searched for by who they did not know yet, death coming at them and yet they made love like two people who had found each other and had all the time in the world to experience intimacy with each other. It was 37,000 feet and for a moment David smiled wondering if anyone else in the mile-high club had had such an experience. The bed was like a divine six-star hotel, and they soon fell into each other feeling complete, their love certain and their commitment to each other perfect.
After some time Rocko woke up. He was off to the bathroom but he thought he should check in. The thought crossed his mind that he would open the cockpit door and find them up to hanky panky. He relieved himself first and headed to the cockpit. David would have paid $1,000 to see his bewildered face when he opened the cockpit door. He was looking straight out the front window of the cockpit and it was full of lights and dials and not a soul was at them. He shut the door and turned around.
“Stacey … wake up!” He shook her.
Stacey was well and truly asleep but he shook her out of it.
“What’s up Rocko?” she said.
“There s no one in the damn cockpit. This thing’s flying itself. We could be punched out of the sky by anything. Even a high-flying
albatross. What the hell is wrong with them? It’s irresponsible.”
“It’s love, Rocko,” Stacey smiled back. “He deserves it. Let it be. Abbey is a very smart girl. She wouldn’t put us in danger. Now since you have woken me, make me a coffee and I will forgive you.”
“Ok I get it. He gets laid and I make coffee. Seems fair.”
Rocko stomped off in to the galley. He made sure he crashed a few things round.
As he was pouring the coffee David and Abbey opened the door. Rocko immediately spied the bed. David realising this simply looked at him with eyes of a sleepy cat and said, “Go lie down if you want.”
Rocko looked at him, then Abbey then the room.
“I’m coffee boy, I hope you like it black.”
Several hours later the plane landed in Patagonia, Argentina. Stacey had sat up front with Abbey for a few hours talking girl talk, whilst Rocko and David mapped out a way forward. They were to leave the Gulfstream in Cusco and take the smaller and less comfortable Learjet to New Orleans from Cusco. The Eagle had made sure they could land at the private airport and a couple of his contacts would be there to great them, and replenish stocks for them. These people would bring fake passports and have them stamped and cleared. To the American authorities and online it would simply seem some Peruvians were in town.
David had been to Patagonia before. It was at the bottom of Argentina and they still had quite a hike to Peru and onto the USA. Abbey had rested and wasn’t feeling tired. It must have taken a lot to pilot the plane and she wasn’t looking remotely out of place. David could still smell her on his clothes and he loved that.
The refuel was quick. There wasn’t anything there. It was a desolate place almost at the bottom of the world with Tierra del Fuego the only thing between that and the Antarctic Ocean. Rocko stretched his legs and chatted up the girl at the customs office. Argentinean women were long legged and beautiful and Rocko, who had done his share of tango lessons, was actually dancing with her in the tin shed they called the customs hall. No one checked their passports, as they were
not entering Argentina. In fact the local authorities figured they were on a joy flight over the ice caps. No one ever flew in from overseas in a private plane.
David just looked at Rocko and smiled toward Abbey.
“I swear if he was in front of a firing squad he would try and pick up a hottie in the squad.”
It was Rocko’s normality that kept situations cool and sane.
They reboarded the plane and flew to Peru. Again they slept an hour or so. Landing in Cusco they were simply some Argentine jet arriving. They gathered their things and were ready to do a quick plane change. Abbey pulled the Gulfstream into the private section at the end of the airport. With Cusco over 12,000ft above sea level and as tired as they were, they wouldn’t stay here long. It was not a great thing to do to expose yourself so readily to that altitude after no preparation. Abbey pulled the Gulfstream right next to the Learjet. She could tell the plane by its registration. She powered down and Rocko opened the door and let down the steps.
The air smelt thin and it had a chill to it. Cusco was beautiful. Nestled in a valley between the Andes mountains, it was a tourist Mecca, a springboard to the sacred site of Machu Picchu some three hours by train through the magnificent sacred valley. The team grabbed their things and came down the steps. The idea was that the Eagle would connect with one of his friends who could flight ready the Learjet so they could get to Louisiana.
“Hello hello, Miss Abbey!” A man ran across the tarmac towards them.
“José!” Abbey squealed and gave him a huge hug. “José, meet my friends,” she said and José shook all of their hands vigorously.
“José is a dear friend of our family. He and my dad fought together in Bolivia in the 1990s.”
“You must come… quickly before you fly. Peter told me what you are after. I have seen it. I will show it to you.”
David looked at Abbey for assurance and she smiled at him. Obviously José was one of them. The short little Peruvian must have been fifty years old, but David had learnt never to underestimate these
people. Their resolve was like steel.
Just twenty minutes later, after paying the authorities to turn a blind eye, David was in the Temple of the Sun. This magnificent building was in the main part of Cusco. Rocko had elected to shift their materials to the new plane whilst David went on one of his goose chases. After twenty minutes of carrying stuff from one plane to another Rocko felt like he had a massive hangover. It was of course the altitude. He lay down in the rather pokey Learjet and thought he would turn on a computer and check out one of his chat forums to see what girls may be in Cusco who could come down and stroke his aching head.
* * *
In an office in New York a black-suited Caucasian man with a bald head ran from an elevator to a fifty-year-old secretary sitting outside the office of one of the most powerful men on the planet.
“Tell Mr Chant we have them. The big one just logged into one of his chat rooms. They are in Peru. Cusco to be exact.”
The woman buzzed her boss and relayed the message. Chant’s instructions to the man were to have the operatives in that region immediately go code red. He knew they must have a plane as their own plane was intercepted at Cairo airport and after roughhousing the crew for a few minutes they were convinced they thought they were still in South Africa. Chant was becoming very annoyed at the constant failure of his troops, reflecting badly on himself. His intel would tell him what just landed that was non-commercial in the past hour or so and they were to wait in hiding by that aircraft and take out anyone who boarded it.
Back in the Temple of the Sun, David and the girls were taken by José to look at the older part of the Temple. It was originally a great temple built by the Incas and when the conquistadors came to the New World they sacked the temple, taking the huge golden sun disc and destroying most of the edifice itself. What was left, like many of the sacred ancient places, was a mere shard of what was created by the Inca people. In a part
of the temple that was as rarely visited as it was old, José showed David and the girls what he thought they wanted to see. A hooked X was cut into the stone. There was only one and nothing more.