CHAPTER 55
Cotton wheeled up to the gate that hung open.
Beyond lay a small private airfield about fifty miles northwest of Stockholm.
He’d been driven over by one of the palace security men, while Cassiopeia was taken to Stephanie.
They’d both fled the accident scene before the police arrived in a car Stephanie had arranged.
Waiting for him here were two things.
The second thing waiting for him was Ivan.
He’d been taken there earlier by Koger’s acolyte, Sandra Koss, who’d kept a close eye on him while everything played out during the staged transport.
The codex itself had been transported here by the two CIA operatives Koger had made available. No big fancy wooden crate, though. Just wrapped tight in bubble wrap and polyurethane, then loaded into the back of an SUV. Low-tech for sure. But it would have to do.
He drove through the gate and headed for a small hangar that sat before a concrete runway.
The turboprop waited outside. Ivan stood nearby with a woman, whom he assumed was Koss.
He wheeled up, stopped the car, and emerged into the bright morning.
The sky above had cleared, now peppered with low-level clouds, plenty of blue peeking out here and there.
It had been a while since he’d last sat in a cockpit.
But flying was second nature to him. He’d read up on the EMB last night, trying to familiarize himself with the cockpit layout.
Normally there would be two pilots. Not today. Just him and Ivan.
“I see you still in one piece,” Ivan said as he approached.
“Can’t say the same for that crate.”
Ivan chuckled. “Moscow will be really mad. They do not like to lose.”
“Hopefully they are reveling in their supposed win.” He faced Sandra. “Is everything ready?”
She nodded. “Flight plan filed for Prague. That’s for anyone who looks. But there are a lot of planes in the air right now, so just blend in and keep going south, then make a detour. You’re cleared into German airspace.”
As he’d told Ivan hours ago the idea was to land at Ramstein Air Base.
Officials there were already alerted, ready for their arrival.
It would be important to preserve the codex, so a chamber had been readied where it could be stored in a pure nitrogen atmosphere, as it had been at the Swedish national library.
Ivan would be taken into custody and quickly transported to the United States.
No wait. No delay. Off one plane and onto another.
Hopefully all that would happen before the Russians discovered anything about his whereabouts.
“All the flights are ready to go in Germany?”
Sandra nodded. “I personally oversaw everything. It’s ready.”
“You ready?” he asked Ivan.
“To get out of here? Definitely. Too many people want me dead.”
Cotton faced Sandra. “How will communications work?”
“The plane’s radio button is set to the frequency we will be monitoring.
It’s off the usual scale, so maybe it won’t be noticed.
We’ll keep radio silence unless absolutely necessary.
But Stephanie will be right there with you, in your ear.
Ramstein will also use the same frequency as you approach for landing. ”
All good to know.
He stared at the plane. Flying was in his blood.
No denying it. Odd considering his father had been a submariner.
But spending months at a time undersea, encased within a steel tube breathing recycled air, had never appealed to him.
Give him the wide-open spaces flying fighter jets, strapped into an ejection seat that could shoot you up and out into the sky just by pulling the right cable.
A constant stream of fresh oxygen running into your face mask.
The canopy offering 360-degree views of the world around you.
Every movement the plane made could be felt, going from cruising to high-speed G turns in an instant.
Every move had to be precise. The tight turns, near-vertical climbs and drops, and everything in between.
The best part? Due to all the different forces and the endless sky in all directions, and the fact that the only things you really concentrated on were breathing and staying conscious, most times you had no idea when you were upside down, normal, or going vertical.
Flying navy jets for a living, and getting paid to do it, had always brought a smile to his face. Would today’s flight be uneventful?
Only one way to find out.
He made a quick preflight check of the exterior, studying the wings, flaps, gears, and all the other things pilots checked before climbing aboard. Before doing that he asked Sandra, “Is someone standing by?”
“As you requested, a pilot familiar with the EMB Brasilia is at Ramstein on the assigned frequency to offer any assistance you might need. They will be in your ear, with Stephanie.”
“I appreciate that.”
“Should I be worried?” Ivan asked.
“You could stay here.”
“No. I cannot.”
And Ivan followed him to the plane.