Chapter 68
It took us another fifteen minutes to get to the general aviation section, and I used that time to get Jennifer and Aaron
one flight management company the center of the activity.
Known as FBOs or fixed-based operators, the general aviation area was the place where the swanky people got on their private
jets while the rest of us slogged through TSA security and were crammed into commercial airliners like cattle. It turned out
that the Ghost was two steps ahead of us. He wasn’t planning on trying to board a commercial flight, he’d just decided to
steal a private one, although how he managed to do that with a bomb strapped to him in such a short amount of time was beyond
me.
Luckily for us, because we’d flown down in the Rock Star Bird, we’d also used an FBO, and ours wasn’t the one that had just
been hit. We drove past all the lights, continuing to the second to last FBO, seeing the Rock Star Bird patiently waiting.
Jennifer said, “You want to ask someone what’s going on before we just load up and lift off?”
“No. Nobody will be able to tell us anything more than what the pilots know. I guarantee there was a ton of chatter all the
way around, and I want to get airborne before they shut down this airport, because that’s what’s about to happen.”
We parked outside of the FBO headquarters and went inside, finding Veep and the pilots waiting in a lounge. Knowing he’d both heard all the radio chatter while in the air and had already pimped the personnel at our FBO on the ground, I asked the captain, “What do you know about the situation?”
“It was a chartered Learjet with a flight plan to S?o Paulo, Brazil. The charter was paid to be on strip alert because the
customer was unsure when he would be able to leave, but he didn’t want to wait around for it to be towed once they arrived.
Instead, those yahoos we’ve been tracking all day showed up with suicide vests and guns and commandeered the whole thing.
Luckiest damn thing I’ve ever seen. Nobody pays to have a plane sitting hot because it’s expensive as shit. Well, nobody but
you guys. If he’d have pulled up with all that weaponry and demanded a plane on any other day, it would have taken about two
hours to get him one.”
I said, “It wasn’t luck. It was their escape plan. They chartered the plane, only they showed up with hostages and bombs instead of pretending they were businessmen. Why Brazil,
though? Why not up north, to the Triple Frontier, where they have support? Brazil will just shut them down when they get there.”
“That’s why I thought it was just luck. They aren’t going to Brazil. They’re headed south right now.”
“South as in . . . where?”
“Beats the hell out of me. I’d have to get up in the air and squawk them to find where they’re at now.”
“What’s that mean? You can see them?”
“Within about a hundred miles, yeah. They have a transponder that transmits their callsign, altitude, heading, and that sort
of thing so we don’t run into each other.”
“How much gas do you have?”
“Not enough. I’ve been burning holes in the sky all morning, but I’ve got a tanker on the way.”
Shit. “How long will that take?”
“About thirty minutes. I still have to file a flight plan anyway. Where are we going?”
“Somewhere south. I don’t give a shit where. Just pick something in the direction they were headed and file it. Get it done before they decide to close the flightline.”
He left and I began pacing, thinking through the problem set. Veep said, “What’s the plan?”
“Right now, it’s to get airborne and follow them. I imagine soon enough there very well might be Argentinian fighter jets
escorting his ass, but it’ll take a little bit for that cluster to unravel.”
Aaron said, “I heard what you said about Brazil, and I’m thinking the same thing, only about them flying south. There’s nothing
down there but the Antarctic. Do you think they’re panicking? That they planned on flying to Brazil, but now, with the hostages,
that’s no longer an option?”
Shoshana said, “No. They aren’t panicking. I saw the Ghost for what he is, and he’s not one to panic.”
I knew she was talking her psychobabble bullshit again, but I agreed with her. The Ghost didn’t panic. Then I decided to lean
into the psychobabble, because, well, deep down I believed.
I said, “Do you think he’ll kill the hostages? I mean, was he bloodred or whatever you see? What’s the read?”
She gave me the side-eye and said, “Why Nephilim, that’s not like you.”
She saw me scowl and grew serious, saying, “He will kill them, but I didn’t see bloodlust. He’ll do it when it will help him,
not out of vengeance. But he most definitely will kill them.”
“So he probably won’t do it on the plane, since that creates nothing but downside. If a fighter jet comes up, he’s going to
want to shove them in front of a window. Is that what you mean?”
“Yes. He’s too smart to let his emotions overtake his judgment, but I must stress, he’s a killer. The second they become a
liability instead of an asset, they’re dead.”
I said, “Okay, okay, let’s hope that Carrie shit is real.
I agree with you on the panic thing. They didn’t just decide to fly south.
It was the plan. If he’s shown us anything, it’s that he’s always got a plan.
We just have to figure it out. Jennifer, when we get on the plane, you and Veep get with the copilot and plot every single airstrip that could land a Learjet south of Buenos Aires. ”
They nodded, and twenty minutes later the captain came up, saying, “We’re ready to go.”
To the group, I said, “Let’s roll,” and we jogged out to the Rock Star Bird. Along the way I said, “Where’d you tell ’em we
were going?”
The captain said, “I went ahead and plotted for Ushuaia, so unless they’re flying to the pack ice of the Antarctic, they’ll
be within the flight plan.”
“Where’s that?”
He chuckled and said, “Southernmost outpost on earth. The end of the world.”
“They have an airport?”
“Yeah, a modern one, actually. It’s where everyone goes that gets on an Antarctic cruise ship.”
We clambered up the stairs and I let the captain get to work. I took one of the plush leather seats as Jennifer and Veep went
to the back, breaking out computers.
Shoshana and Aaron sat across from me and buckled up. In minutes, we were airborne, the confusion of the hijacking causing
all the commercial carriers to pause their departures.
I went up to the cockpit and said, “How long before you can ping them?”
“I don’t actually have to do anything. It’s continually transmitting, just like this aircraft, but it depends on how far they’ve
gone. I’ll have to close the distance, but we’re looking for callsign LVGKX.”
He pointed at a screen showing a moving map with a couple of icons with tags. He said, “That’s us in the center. Those other
icons are planes waiting for clearance to land.” He pushed a button, and we began zooming out. He said, “I’m on twenty nautical
miles right now, but I’ll pull it all the way back to two hundred. If he’s transmitting, we’ll hit his transponder soon.”
I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket and looked at the screen. It was Knuckles. I told the captain, “Let me know if he appears.”
I went back to the cabin and answered, saying, “Tell me you’ve already solved the United States problem.”
I heard him laugh, and he said, “Are you shitting me? I just landed. We’re at Reagan National headed to the Uber line and
every television in here is talking about a hostage situation in Argentina. I take it you had something to do with that?”
I said, “Yeah. The Ghost managed to take the Israeli PM and our SECSTATE hostage right out from under our noses, then hijack
a damn Learjet and take off. We’re chasing them now.”
He said, “That’s why I’m calling. Brett and I have both purchased tickets and there’s a flight leaving here back to Buenos
Aires in three hours. I can be back to you in under twenty if you tell me where to land.”
I said, “This’ll be over before then. Focus on the US threat.”
He said, “Pike, they took Amanda. All I have to go on here is that snippet of Signal chatter. The FBI, CIA, and the US Marshals
already have it too, and they’re good at this on home turf. It’s not like I’m Michael Jordan about to join a high school basketball
team. Let me come back.”
I knew he and Amanda used to be an item, and that he was chomping at the bit to come back for that reason. If there wasn’t
a catastrophic threat to the United States I’d have let him, but there was.
I said, “Knuckles, I appreciate how you feel. I really do, but you should have seen the planning and preparation this hit
took, to include a VBIED as a diversion. Whatever is going on in DC is going to be big and it’s going to be complex. You are Michael Jordan, and you’re going to turn that team around.”
From inside the cockpit, the captain shouted, “We’ve got him. He’s about fifty nautical miles ahead of us.”
Knuckles said, “Pike, even Brett thinks—”
I cut him off, “Hey, as Michael Jordan says—just do it. I gotta go.”
I hung up and went to the cockpit, seeing an icon with LVGKX on the screen. I said, “Keep on him, but don’t get so close that
he sees us.”
“We’re transmitting just like he is. Their pilot will see us if he’s looking.”
“Turn off your damn transponder. Can’t you do that?”
He sheepishly did so, and I went back to the cabin. I took a seat, thinking about what Knuckles had said. Something he’d mentioned was nibbling at me, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Then I remembered.
Shoshana said, “What’s going through that head of yours?”
I said, “Get me the Signal chats from the computer we recovered. I have an idea.”