The young man inside was eating a meatball sandwich; half of the sauce deposited down his uniform. He didn’t look up immediately, not much of a guard. Katherine spoke up in her broadest accent, ‘ es-cuse me sir, but I appear to be lost.’
The young man just sat there mid chew, not quite believing what he was seeing. The woman was tall, strappy top hanging on swimmers shoulders, shorts topping her strong toned legs and tanned all over. He stood up offering her a seat, putting his sandwich on the desk. ‘This is a private island, you really shouldn’t be here.’
‘I am so sorry, but I appear to have run aground in my little ol’ boat. I got all soaking wet.’
The young man focused on her semi-transparent clothing.
She bent her left leg back, rested her toes on the floor and tilted her head forward and to the side, while still looking at the young soldier, ‘Well what can I do, can I stay here a while?’
‘Yeah, would you like a drink?’
The young soldier fiddled with the coffee machine, attempting to appear sophisticated and failing. Katherine moved behind him, ‘do you have cream and sugar?’
He looked in the cupboard above and then Katherine grabbed him around the neck, pulled in backwards off balance so he was leaning against her, his feet still forward. He could not move he would fall and tighten her grip; she applied enough pressure to render him unconscious in a few seconds. She lowered him to the ground, checked his pulse, taped his mouth, secured plastic ties on his hands and legs. With a push he tucked neatly under the desk, the knock causing his hideous sandwich to leak more fluid down onto his uniform from above.
She checked the monitors for the CCTV and saw plenty of activity down by the docks. She could see the loading of a seaplane. The two men she had seen at the guardhouse had arrived the taller one leaving and heading away, while the younger loaded his gear. She disabled all the monitors, duct-taped a cup over the alarm button, should her unconscious soldier attempt to trigger it with a lucky kick. The locker in the corner contained an old uniform, clean, but too large for her. Some safety pins allowed her to make it fit her smaller frame. She placed a baseball cap to hide her long hair, picked up her rucksack and headed for the main hangers.
It was only a few hundred metres, she looked ahead, avoiding eye contact not wanting to draw attention. The two hangers were built up against a rock face, unusual even on the small island. There was a C130 transport plane and two Bell 212 helicopters, standard for a research facility. As she entered the hanger and her eyes adjusted to the light, she realised the reason for the location of the hangers, which extended back into the rock face itself. The thick rock hid their military aircraft from any curious passing satellite.
She checked on a site map and saw that there were two sub levels below where she was now, in the centre was a cannibalised aircraft carrier lift to move the smaller aircraft up. This hanger only appeared to have large planes and one Chinook twin rotor transport helicopter. She just needed an aircraft, fast, short take off, then she saw exactly what she wanted, all she had to do now was steal it and fly it out of a heavily protected base.
As she turned towards the flight office, a tall blonde man stopped in front of her, his lapels showing the rank of Colonel, his nametag with Briggs emblazoned on it.
‘Are you new here soldier?’
Katherine stopped dead, turning to face the officer.
Jacob and Archer moved from their landing site, the jungle not heavily overgrown, an old footpath easing their transit around the small mountain that had shielded their approach. The humidity was not as oppressive as Ecuador, the sea breeze and location of the island kept it fresher. They made good time, even with carrying the gear.
They found an old jeep half buried in the hill, a relic of the fifties the jungle slowly consuming it, but no other signs of occupation. They emerged from the heavy undergrowth above The General’s private hanger. The compound below sealed and fenced off, no life in sight. His private helicopter was being wheeled out and prepared for take-off, the storm passing over to the East. The ground crew retreated back in the hanger a few minutes later, leaving in a jeep. The fence opened up a discreet gate allowing them to return to the main base.
‘If that’s his helicopter Archer, he’s going to leave, we need to move quickly.’
Archer agreed and the two men moved covertly through the thin cover of the hillside, reaching the compound floor undetected a few minutes later. The open hanger doors and reappearing sunshine disguised the contents, the darkness halting Archer’s threat assessment. Jacob joined him near the entrance, no security cameras appeared present, he moved inside, handgun and eyes scanning for any targets.
Archer followed finding the shadows of the large steel uprights could provide sufficient cover for now. Archer checked the map he had downloaded from Khan’s information, the private lift clearly indicated across from their current position. Jacob began to circle around the back of the deserted hanger, while Archer moved across to the only occupant, a solitary guard. Of course the guard was by the lift door, attempting to start a cigarette, his cheap plastic lighter failing miserably. Archer casually strolled across, nodding to the guard and checking his pockets for a light. The guard ignoring any potential threat, never saw Jacob who hit the back of his neck hard enough to knock him out, but not kill him. With a final check of the area, they used the guard’s key card to gain access to the lift.
‘Better take him with us.’
‘Go on then Dad, you pick him up.’
‘I pull rank on you son, and I am over fifty, so hoist him up.’
‘I dunno, no talking for months and now it’s, pick up that body Archer.’
Jacob laughed at his son’s feigned displeasure and selected the only floor available on the lift control panel. The mirrored box moved silently upwards, ‘What no cheesy music? Surprising.’
Jacob chuckled, but quickly stopped as the lift slowed approached The General’s office, levelling his gun at the door. Archer unceremoniously dumped the guard’s body on the floor and drew his gun just as the lift doors opened.
Katherine knew that the shy Texan girl routine from the guardhouse would not work, so she played it straight, ‘Yes Colonel, just arrived. I was looking for the flight office.’
‘It’s over there the blue door.’
‘Thank you sir.’
‘You are a pilot? I don’t remember seeing your face before?’
‘Well ma Daddy said I had a very forgettable face.’
The Colonel smiled, removing his sunglasses, ‘I think your father was mistaken.’
Katherine genuinely blushed, ‘Well thank you sir.’
She saluted and turned towards the flight office, letting out a breath.
‘Excuse me miss.’
The booming voice echoing in the hanger filled her with dread. She tried to remain calm putting her game face on, and turning back towards the colonel, ‘Yes sir.’
He was looking at her rucksack, ‘you forgot your kit.’ Katherine scurried over to the Colonel retrieving her bag carefully to ensure the weapons within did not bang together. He noticed her badge, ‘you any relation to Private Wragg?’
She had checked her name tag in the reflection from his sunglasses, ‘Yes sir he is my younger brother.’
‘Well I know were the good genetics went to.’
Smiling as she turned and headed quickly for the office.
The General’s office was unexpectedly empty, the set of double doors on the right closed shut, the other door on the left made a click. Jacob moved around, getting behind the single door, while Archer secured the double doors with a security tie. With a flushing noise they both realised the unmarked door in the room was a private bathroom, and they knew who the occupant would be. Archer moved directly in front of the door, standing about eight feet away, his gun levelled at the polished mahogany.