Shadow Tyrants

  Linc nodded approvingly. “That definitely sounds like their type of music.”

  That got a glance from one of them, but no movement.

  “Nice collection,” Eddie said to Linc as he looked around at the weapons mounted on the fuselage.

  “Lots of pointy, sharp things.”

  “Very intimidating,” Eddie said with a yawn.

  “Since they can’t hear or understand us,” Linc said, “we should probably start planning how we’re going to kill them.”

  “Good idea. I call dibs on the hunga munga.”

  “Oh, man!” Linc complained with an exaggerated whine. “That’s the one I wanted.”

  “Listen, we can share. There are plenty of guys to kill for both of us.”

  The guard on the left looked like he’d had enough of their banter. He started walking toward them with his fists clenched when Taylor appeared in the open doorway and said, “Enough with the childish baiting.”

  The guard stepped back.

  She entered holding a folded plastic sheet under her arm.

  “We missed you,” Linc said.

  “I’m sure you did.”

  “The service on this airline is terrible,” Eddie said. “We’ve been in the air for fifteen minutes now and haven’t seen the drink cart yet.”

  “And you won’t. None of the flight attendants were needed on this trip. Gives us privacy for our discussion.”

  Eddie turned to Linc and said, “Wasn’t I just saying how we wanted some privacy?”

  “You’re too kind,” Linc said to Taylor.

  “This chatter is amusing,” Taylor said, “but I wonder how well it will hold up when you see your friend bleeding on the floor.”

  “And mess up this beautiful carpet? What a shame.”

  “That’s what this is for.” She handed the sheeting to one of the guards. “Make sure you cover the whole floor. I’ve got a few things to take care of and then I’ll be back for our chat.”

  She winked at them as she left, closing the door behind her.

  Eddie and Linc watched in silence as the guard unfolded the sheet and laid it over the carpet, careful to pull the edges up the walls to catch spillage.

  The other guard stood there, smiling.

  * * *

  —

  Juan thought he’d given it enough time. They should be close to cruising altitude.

  Tiny handed him the handheld pry bar and he forced the trunk open. He opened it just a crack. The cargo hold looked empty, so he pushed the trunk lid up and rolled out, sweeping the space with his suppressed Smith & Wesson.

  The only cargo was the two cars. Both vehicles were held down with straps on the tires that were clasped to retractable cargo restraints on the deck. The releases were operated by covered buttons on the wall next to each car.

  “Clear,” Juan said.

  Tiny got out and picked up the backpacks they’d brought with them. They each put one on their shoulders and made their way to the elevator.

  “Where do you want to start looking for them?” Tiny asked.

  “If the pilots aren’t in on the torture plan, Taylor will want to keep them as far away from the cockpit as possible.”

  “That would be the upper deck at the rear. The cockpit is on the main deck.”

  “So we get Eddie and Linc first, and that will double our numbers. Then we take the cockpit.”

  Even if the pilots weren’t party to what Taylor had planned for her guests, they would resist anyone taking control of the plane. At the first sign of trouble, they’d head back to Cyprus, where an army of Carlton’s men would be waiting for the intruders when they landed.

  But breaking into any airliner’s flight deck was extremely difficult in the age of terrorism and hijackers. The door would be hardened and bulletproof to pistol fire. They couldn’t break it down, and the emergency code to open it would be useless even if they could find it. The pilots would activate the triple locking mechanism as soon as they suspected the plane was under attack.

  That’s why they had brought thermal charges. Explosives would be too dangerous to use to sever the bolts. Not only could they injure or kill the pilots, they could also damage the instruments and controls.

  Instead, the charges were strips of thermite powder they could tape to the door. When the nylon cords were ripped off, the thermite would ignite, melting through the locks like a blowtorch.

  The elevator up to the passenger areas was located on the port side of the plane near the midpoint. Juan would have preferred stairs, but there weren’t any. Using the elevator was a perilous start to their infiltration. They wouldn’t be able to tell if anyone was waiting at the top of the ride.

  They had their weapons at the ready as the elevator slowly rose to the main galley. It came to a stop with a ding. Juan flung open the door and rushed out, but no one was there.

  He checked the hallway outside, then gestured for Tiny to follow. Juan could see a spiral staircase at the aft end. He made his way down the hall while Tiny kept watch on their rear. He stopped only long enough to check four small rooms that they passed—they all turned out to be empty—before entering a palatial lounge.

  “Wait here until I call for you,” Juan whispered. Tiny nodded and kept an eye on the hallway.

  Juan crept up the spiral stairs, the sound of his steps absorbed by the plush carpeting.

  When he reached the top, he peered over the edge and saw the tops of Eddie’s and Linc’s heads. He went up farther and saw that they were sitting in chairs. Beyond, in the space in between, he could see two guards standing at attention. Both of them were in tactical gear with holstered sidearms.

  Juan had to risk that his suppressed gunshots would be heard. He coiled and then sprang up the last few steps. The guards gaped for just a second at the shocking sight of an intruder, then tried to draw their weapons. Juan took each of them down with a single shot. Blood pooled under their heads, caught neatly by the plastic sheet.

  Eddie and Linc both turned. Neither of them seemed surprised to see that it was Juan.

  “Hi, Chairman,” Linc said with a toothy grin. “What took you so long?”

  FIFTY

  Juan called Tiny up, and they handed pistols and comm units to Eddie and Linc after removing the restraints. Juan went to the closed door and listened, but he couldn’t hear anything through the thick insulation. He eased it open and saw someone standing in the hallway. He signaled to the others that they had company.

  If they started firing in the midsection of the plane, their surprise would be lost, but the guard was too far away to sneak up on. Juan looked at the hunga munga hanging on the wall and raised an eyebrow at Linc.

  Linc understood and wrenched the weapon from its brackets. When he was at the door, Juan counted down from three and then yanked the door open. Linc flicked the hunga munga as easily as if he were tossing a Frisbee, and the spike plunged into the guard’s chest just as he turned to see who was coming. He pitched forward without a sound. This time, they’d need carpet cleaners.

  Juan led the way down the hall. The rooms here were luxurious cabins, each with its own bathroom. The first two were vacant, but the one where the guard had been standing was closed. While Linc removed the hunga munga from the corpse and wiped it clean, Juan pulled the door open to find Lionel Gupta sitting on the bed.

  “Who are you?” he said in astonishment.

  “We’re here to rescue you,” Juan said. “Where is Natalie Taylor?”

  “I don’t know. Do you work for Romir Mallik?”

  “No. Just concerned citizens. We know about the Nine Unknown Men and what you’re planning with Colossus. We’re going to put a stop to it.”

  “As you can see, I’m not part of it anymore. They’re going to kill me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Carlton has gone mad
with power. As soon as he has the Colossus ships linked up, there’ll be no stopping him.”

  “Where is that going to happen?” Juan asked.

  “Great Bitter Lake. They need to be within twenty miles of each other to make the connection.”

  “How do we deactivate it?”

  Gupta hesitated.

  “Remember, you’re going to die when Carlton gets Colossus up and running unless we help you stop him.”

  Gupta’s shoulders slumped. “All right. I stashed some files online where I didn’t think anyone could find them. Just in case. Of course, Colossus would be able to find them in minutes once it’s fully operational.”

  He wrote down a long string of characters on a pad and gave the paper to Juan, who put it in his pocket.

  “Now, get me off this plane,” Gupta said.

  “Stay in your cabin,” Juan said. “You’ll be safer.”

  Gupta nodded dejectedly. “Okay.”

  Juan told Linc to take point. Eddie and Tiny followed while Juan had their six.

  When Linc reached the forward lounge, he threw the hunga munga again, but apparently there was more than one guard in the room because Eddie fired two shots. Enemy fire came from the bottom of the front staircase, and they all hit the deck.

  As soon as the shots rang out, the plane began to turn. Juan guessed the pilots were heading back to Cyprus.

  “We need to get into that cockpit,” he said.

  “Working on it,” Linc said as he fired three quick rounds.

  Gupta leaned his head out from the cabin to see what was happening.

  “Get back in there!” Juan shouted.

  But it was too late. A shot rang out from the back of the plane. Gupta spun as he fell, a bullet hole in the back of his head.

  Taylor was crouched on the floor of the entertainment room, a nasty smirk on her face. Juan got off a few shots, but she ducked out of the line of fire. He saw her again for a moment as she raced down the spiral stairs.

  “Eddie!” Juan shouted over the gunshots. “You’re with me. We’re going after Taylor.”

  He and Eddie ran to follow her down the stairs, leaving Tiny and Linc with the thermite.

  * * *

  —

  At least I got rid of Lionel Gupta, Taylor thought as she sprinted from the spiral stairs toward the front of the plane, where the gun battle near the cockpit was taking place. But she was livid about someone getting aboard to rescue her prisoners.

  They had already killed half her men. If Carlton had been aboard, she would have had twice as many ex-soldiers at her command, and this would already be over.

  She could make a stand at the cockpit door and hope they were able to make it back to Cyprus, but this assault had been well planned and executed. She was dealing with pros. Her guys were good, but not that good. She needed an edge.

  If only they had knockout gas to pump through the emergency oxygen system like they’d done to hijack Carlton’s original A380 . . .

  That thought gave her an idea. Her advantage was the two pilots in the cockpit. They had control over the rest of the plane.

  She pointed at two of the four guards firing up the forward staircase. “You two, come with me.”

  They looked at her as if she were crazy, but they followed her orders.

  She ran back to the galley with them and saw the Asian man and his rescuer coming down the spiral stairs.

  Taylor ducked into the galley with the two guards. To one of them, she said, “Stay here, and don’t let anybody follow us.”

  The guard began exchanging gunfire with the intruders while she picked up the intercom phone and called the cockpit.

  “What’s going on out there?” the pilot shouted.

  “Hijackers are on board. Turn off the emergency oxygen system and slow the plane down as much as you can at this altitude.”

  “What?”

  “Just do it. And prepare for a rapid decompression.”

  The pilot gasped. “Are you serious?”

  “Deadly. We’ll have this plane under control again in three minutes.”

  She opened the emergency medical cabinet and took out the portable oxygen tank and mask.

  “Come with me,” she said to the other guard, and got on the elevator to the cargo hold. He joined her in the tiny space, and they started descending.

  “What are we doing?” he asked.

  Taylor ignored the question. “When we get down there, make sure no one comes down after us. And hold on to something.”

  FIFTY-ONE

  The cockpit door was tantalizingly close, only a dozen feet from the lowest step of the front staircase, but there was no way Linc was getting down there unless he took a chance. The steep incline meant that the shooters below would be able to see his legs and take them out before he made it halfway to the bottom.

  So he took one of the wide sofa cushions from the nearest suede couch. He perched it near the top of the stairs and said to Tiny, “Get ready.”

  Then he pushed the cushion over the lip of the top step and dove onto it. It provided the perfect sled for him as he went down the staircase headfirst with gun in hand.

  The first guard was so surprised by the tactic that he fired behind Linc, who took him down with two shots.

  The second guard was faster, and a bullet grazed Linc’s thigh. He fired back and hit the guard in the shoulder. The man retreated into a room behind the stairs.

  Linc waved Tiny down. “Hurry!”

  As Tiny passed Linc, he said, “You’re bleeding.”

  “I’ve had worse,” Linc said. “But not getting shot at all is better.”

  While Linc kept his eye on the room the guard went in, Tiny started placing thermite on the cockpit door.

  * * *

  —

  It took twelve shots from Juan and Eddie before they were able to hit the guard blocking the galley. When he went down in a heap, they approached cautiously in staggered formation.

  They arrived to find the galley empty.

  “They went down to the cargo bay,” Juan said.

  “Why?” Eddie asked.

  Juan pointed at the medical cabinet. “The portable oxygen tank is missing.”

  “I don’t like that.”

  “I agree. We need to get down there. Linc, status?”

  “About to access the cockpit.”

  “Good. Let me know when you’re in. We’re heading down to the cargo hold to find Taylor.”

  “Roger that.”

  Instead of pressing the button to call the elevator, Juan pried open the door and saw the cab below them. They’d have to go through the emergency access panel in the roof.

  * * *

  —

  Tiny had finished putting the thermite around the border of the cockpit door when Linc saw the injured guard come back out of his hiding place.

  The idiot was holding an assault rifle with his good arm.

  Linc shoved Tiny down as the guard fired on full auto. High-velocity rounds chewed into the cockpit door right where they’d been standing an instant before.

  Linc rolled over and unloaded his pistol at the guard, who staggered back under the withering fire and fell to the floor.

  Tiny gaped at the bullet holes in the door while the Chairman called on the comms, “You still with us, Linc?”

  “We’re okay,” Linc said, helping Tiny up. “Accessing cockpit now.”

  He pulled the detonation cord on the thermite.

  Sparks flew as molten metal cut through the locked bolts. When it was over, the door sprang loose.

  Linc yanked it open and charged into the cockpit.

  Both pilots were slumped over their control sticks, starbursts of scarlet blood on their backs.

  Some of the displays and controls were destroyed by the roun
ds as well, but none of them had penetrated the windscreen. The blue sea of the Mediterranean was visible below.

  They pulled the dead pilot from his seat, and Tiny climbed in.

  “Is it still flyable?” Linc said.

  Tiny shook his head. “Not sure. At least for now the autopilot is still engaged. Ask me again in a minute.”

  * * *

  —

  Juan was perched on top of the elevator roof while Eddie waited above him in the galley. There wasn’t room for both of them to stand there and still open the hatch.

  Juan pulled the hatch up and ducked down with his pistol. The guard was waiting outside for the elevator to be called, so Juan fired through the window, hitting the man twice in the chest.

  He lowered himself into the cab and pushed the door aside, waving for Eddie to come down.

  Juan exited and saw Taylor at the aft end of the cargo bay. She turned to see Juan and fired in his direction. He dove behind the Cadillac for cover, but he could still see her through the windshield.

  Her arm was wrapped in the end of a yellow strap holding down the rear tire of the Bugatti. She had jury-rigged another strap that lashed the oxygen tank to her midsection. The mask was firmly fixed over her face.

  She fired two shots in his direction, then holstered the pistol and slammed her hand against a large button on the bulkhead. A red light above her head flashed. She pressed it a second time. Then a third.

  Only at the last second did Juan realize what she was doing. He dropped his gun so he could grab onto a tie-down holding one of the Caddy’s front tires in place.

  Eddie was just dropping into the elevator cab. Juan yelled, “Hold on to something!”

  Then while they were still flying at thirty-five thousand feet, the cargo bay door began to open.

  FIFTY-TWO

  The moment that the rear cargo door opened, a hurricane blast ripped at Juan. As he struggled to keep his grip on the Caddy’s tie-down strap, he caught a glimpse of Taylor being sucked toward the growing chasm of the open door by the sudden decompression. Only the strap wrapped around her wrist kept her from being flung into the freezing slipstream and plummeting to the sea below.