That didn’t mean he would do nothing, though. A good chunk of the eight inches of paper Mrs. Smith had delivered were concerning events in the Sudan, Somalia and elsewhere in the covert world in October 1993. Nero knew he’d missed something and he was determined to find it.
Nero lit another cigarette and continued reading the reports, the soothing sound of the BBC in the background.
CHAPTER 17
Neeley looked up from their meager vending machine breakfast when she heard the engine. As the plane approached, Neeley glanced at Hannah and smiled. "Never walk when you can ride, never ride when you can fly."
They had slept fitfully, but they'd be in Boulder before lunch. Hannah nudged the heavy rucksack with her foot. "That is so profound," she muttered. Sleeping on a bench was not her idea of a restful night.
The twin-engine propeller plane landed. Kent was a large, burly man and he didn't get out after he stopped the plane right in front of them, engines running. He pulled the cockpit window open.
"Got the money?" he shouted above the noise of the propellers.
Neeley walked up and handed him a stack of bills. Hannah watched the exchange without comment.
"Let's get loaded ladies. Time's a wasting," Kent yelled.
After what seemed like forever the gear was aboard in the lower hold and Hannah, sitting behind Kent now, seemed relaxed. Neeley climbed in the co-pilot's seat.
As they took off and started west, Neeley noted that Hannah was flirting with Kent and he seemed to be responding. Her memories of Kent were of his taciturn can-do gruffness. He had obviously respected Gant, but his attitude toward Neeley had been one of mere tolerance for her relationship with Gant. She had added him to the never-ending list of misogynists who seemed to populate Gant's world.
Yet here with Hannah he was acting like a fawning love-struck beau. Hannah's voice had assumed an almost girlish quality as she asked him questions about the plane. Hannah had him prattling on about fuel consumption, flying time and the refueling stops between here and Jeffco Airport in Colorado, just outside of Boulder. Neeley found the change in persona strange and irritating.
Neeley wondered if she was going to have to shoot them both before they reached the Rockies. Kent was just beginning to explain the concept of wings when Neeley noticed the plane veering toward a flat open field. It was a very clear morning and despite the distance, Neeley could see two dark sedans parked at the far edge of the field in a tree line.
"Kent, what the hell is going on?"
"Hey, Neeley, no hard feelings OK? They're not gonna hurt you, I swear. Racine just wants to talk to you. He says he wants to deal. Said you put an offer out and that Nero’s accepted."
Neeley didn’t believe that for a second. She slid her hand inside her jacket, grabbing the butt of her Glock. "You son-of-a-bitch! You've killed us! Why?"
Kent didn't answer as he shoved the yoke forward and the nose of the plane dipped down toward the landing strip. Neeley knew it wasn't the brightest idea to shoot a pilot in the middle of landing, but she pulled her gun anyway. Kent, as she expected, ignored the weapon.
The wheels touched with a light bounce and they were down. Kent began doing all sorts of things with the controls, slowing them down, when Hannah suddenly leaned forward between the seats and slammed a heavy metal clipboard that she'd found in the back against the side of Kent's head.
Neeley grabbed the sagging pilot. "Jesus Christ, Hannah! Who's going to stop the plane?" They were rolling at fifty miles an hour and although there was another half mile of field, there was a row of trees at the end of that.
Hannah squirmed forward between the two seats, all signs of flirtation and innocence gone. "Here, come on, switch seats with me."
Neeley slithered between the seats over Hannah, who quickly claimed her place in the co-pilot’s seat as half the distance to the end of the field went by. Hannah placed her hands on the controls.
Neeley leaned forward, looking over Hannah’s shoulder. "You can handle this?"
Hannah kept her focus forward. "Look, I'm not great at this but I do know how the wings work, contrary to what your friend here thought." Hannah shook her head. “I’m not so stupid I would have knocked him out if I hadn’t had a plan.”
Hannah did something and the plane slowed further. Hannah jerked a thumb at Kent. "You don't want to take him with us, do you? I should be mad at him and we could just chuck him out now, but I thought we'd slow down a bit."
Neeley looked out the front windshield. There were several men standing around the two cars. They had that suit, sunglasses, blown dry hair look of guns for hire, government type. Average IQ was probably double digits but Neeley knew they could probably shoot quite well. They were watching as the plane rolled toward their position.
"Toss him!" Hannah yelled.
Neeley reached over, unbuckled Kent's shoulder harness, and then pushed down on the lever, opening his door. He fell, hit and rolled and Hannah turned the plane and was accelerating as Neeley pulled the door shut. The men finally realized something was wrong and they were running toward the plane but Neeley knew they were already too late. She had no idea if Kent had broken his neck and she didn't really care. That was the price of betrayal.
Hannah pulled back and they were airborne as the goons began fruitlessly firing their pistols at the rapidly receding plane.
"My God," Neeley said, "you really can fly."
Hannah checked her gauges. "Ten lessons, thank you very much. I won them at the annual Spring Charity Bazaar." She was peering out the window. "I wish I'd gone to all of them now," she added in a lower tone of voice.
Neeley leaned forward and placed a hand on Hannah's shoulder. "Please tell me you went to the one on landing."
Hannah shook her head. "Sorry, that one conflicted with bridge club. As you can tell, I did go to the one on take-offs. Landing can't be that hard. I watched the way Kent did it. I have it all figured out in my head. Really."
Neeley rubbed her chin nervously.
Hannah pointed with a free hand at the control panel. "Hey, the compass says we're heading in the right direction. West." She looked around. "There's Interstate 70 to the far left. The road below us parallels it. We can follow that." She smiled. "And the sun sets in the west. And we’ll see the Rocky Mountains. And—" she paused. "Oh shit. There's a helicopter."
Neeley swung around and spotted a small black OH-6 helicopter heading straight for them from the north. Gant had called that type of chopper a Little Bird and told her it was extremely dangerous. It was the type of helicopter he’d flown into and out of Mogadishu on.
Hannah reached down and pulled the throttle out all the way. "I'll fly. You take care of the chopper."
"How the hell am I going to do that?" Neeley yelled. "I didn't exactly pack any air-to-air missiles."
"I don't know. Didn't Gant teach you to deal with a situation like this?"
"Damn," Neeley muttered. She opened the top of her backpack.
Hannah yelled something inarticulate and Neeley looked up. A line of tracers seared across the nose of the plane, and then the helicopter swooped by. Neeley could see the chain gun pod hung out the right door. "God is on the side of the superior firepower," she muttered as she reached into the bag. Another of Gant's rules.
"What?" Hannah asked.
"Nothing," Neeley said as she kept the chopper in sight. The pilot was maneuvering around behind them for another run.
Hannah was glancing back every so often at the helicopter chasing them. The plane had dropped close to the roadway. Neeley clearly saw a coke can in the gravel they were so low.