Adams and Lynn ran as hard as they could, legs pumping over the coarse, uneven terrain, doing their very best to give the impression of panicking, fearful fugitives.
They heard the helicopter closing in, sensed it nearing them, but they didn’t turn to look, they just kept on running, eyes ahead.
Lynn’s peripheral vision picked it up first, the gunmetal grey body swooping past their flank, whipping up desert sand all around them as it banked, lifted, and landed just twenty yards away.
The pair turned, exchanging glances. This was it.
Lynn held up her backpack defensively as the black-clad four-man arrest team deplaned into the swirling sands, assault rifles up and aimed.
‘Down, down, down!’ the lead man shouted at them as the team sprinted forward.
‘Wait!’ shouted Lynn, holding up the backpack higher. ‘Anthrax!’
The lead man lifted one gloved fist, and the other team members stopped short. ‘Put the bag down!’ he announced with heavy authority. ‘We are authorized to shoot you if you do not comply!’
When there was no immediate reaction from her, he pushed the muzzle of his gun threateningly towards her. ‘Put it down!’ he called again. ‘Now!’
Lynn looked across at Adams, who reluctantly nodded his head.
Defeated, Lynn put the bag at her feet and waited helpless as the men surged forward.
16
As Delongis watched with his co-pilot from the cockpit, he was delighted to see that this was going to be even easier than he had hoped. Obviously, the sight of the black-clad SWAT team had taken the fight right out of the terrorists and they had capitulated without a struggle. There had been the threat of the anthrax, of course, but it had been dealt with swiftly.
And now his men were moving forward to make the arrest, removing handcuffs from their belts, and—
Delongis watched in horror as the man and the woman both produced handguns and grabbed one man each, arms going round their throats, guns aimed at their heads.
This was impossible. Two of his men held at gunpoint! They must have taken more than one gun from the police, and Delongis cursed his reckless stupidity. He gripped the arms of his seat, his knuckles turning white, as the other two team members threw their assault rifles to the side and then lay down on the dusty ground, forced to handcuff themselves.
And then he saw the fugitives take their hostages, the woman careful to retrieve her backpack, and begin moving steadily towards his helicopter.
Within seconds, Adams and Lynn were at either side of the helicopter, next to the cockpit doors.
‘Open the doors!’ Adams shouted fiercely. ‘Or we’re gonna blow their heads off!’
When there was no instant response, Adams pushed the muzzle of his gun further into the man’s head, forcing his face into the cockpit’s plexiglas window, so the pilots could see the man’s fear up close.
Seconds later, the man on his side nodded his head and released the door, his partner doing the same thing on the opposite side.
‘Leave the rotors turning and get out,’ Adams ordered, and again both men complied. Adams glanced across at Lynn and noticed the quizzical look she gave him, but ignored it.
‘Now run to your friends,’ he instructed them and was gratified to see the men do as he said, running to join their compadres in the dirt.
Adams looked at Lynn and nodded his head, and the two of them simultaneously cracked their pistols across the back of their hostages’ heads, knocking them both out cold.
Seconds later, they were safely ensconced in the cockpit, Adams taking the controls with swift, confident actions.
Lynn looked at him, confused. ‘You know how to fly this thing?’ she asked, bewildered. ‘When did you learn that?’
Adams finished his checks and looked at Lynn. ‘There’s a lot you don’t know about me,’ he said, and pushed forward on the gyro.
Captain Delongis, cowering in the scrub, looked up, and with a deeply regrettable mixture of rage and humiliation saw the Lynx rise steadily from the desert and power away towards the border.
Eldridge tried hard to conceal his rage, but it was difficult.
The Lear jet was on its way to the border now, with an estimated arrival time of no more than twenty minutes. He should have been arriving at the border checkpoint to take possession of his prisoners, but now? His prey had hijacked a helicopter and was all set to just fly straight over the border and he had no way of stopping them.
Well, that wasn’t quite true, Eldridge had to admit to himself; he had no non-lethal way of stopping them. And it had really come to that decision. Was trying to capture them alive for fear of what they knew worth the mounting costs and attention the whole debacle was creating? Eldridge was starting to think it was doubtful.
Was it likely that the pair had told anyone else, or had the ability to deliver any evidence to anyone who would even care? Surely the organization could deal with the media even if things did find their way into the public spotlight. Eldridge knew that the special programme was operating right on schedule, and soon nothing else would matter anyway.
Mind made up, he picked up the satellite telephone and dialled the number for Stephen Jacobs. He would present his case and ask for permission to blow the helicopter out of the sky, killing the fugitives and wiping them off the face of the earth once and for all.
Ten minutes later, Eldridge was being patched through to Colonel Carlos Santé, the commander of Chile’s First Armoured Brigade. Jacobs had finally capitulated, and agreed to the killing of the fugitives. Although reluctant to authorize their deaths without first interrogating them, Jacobs had seen the unfortunate reality of the situation and had surrendered to it. Rather they die now, he had said, than they escape again.
The brigade provided Chile’s anti-aircraft border defence and was based in Arica, just next to the border itself. Colonel Santé was in command of a battery of Gepard 1A anti-aircraft artillery vehicles, bought only a few years before from the German contractor and recently updated to launch the deadly Mistral anti-aircraft missiles.
The conversation was brief, as Eldridge stressed the timeframe; the helicopter would be approaching the border now, if it hadn’t already entered Peruvian airspace. Santé promised he would shoot the chopper down immediately.
The next call Eldridge made was to the Peruvian side, seeking permission for the helicopter to be shot down by the 1st Armoured Brigade, even if it had already crossed into Peru. The mere mention of terrorism and anthrax meant that permission was instantly granted.
As Eldridge continued his own flight towards the border, he smiled.
There was no way the fugitives would escape 20kg of high explosive hurtling towards them at 1,200 miles per hour.
No way at all.
17
The stolen Lynx helicopter overflew the border just ten minutes after being hijacked, and Adams and Lynn could see the masses of vehicles congregated around the checkpoints below.
‘At least we’re safe up here,’ Lynn said as she looked down at the desert below. As they passed into Peruvian airspace, she clutched him, holding him tight. ‘We made it!’ she exclaimed.
Adams just nodded, his attention occupied by — what? What was it that he’d noticed? He scanned the desert again, the masses of cars, trucks and vans around the Interstate 5 border checkpoint; but that wasn’t it.
His vision drifted further, and then he saw it — about two miles out towards the west, some sort of military installation. His eyes narrowed as he tried to look at it in more detail. It was movement that had caught his eye.