Chapter 75
Looking at the copilot’s flight tablet on the table in front of him, the Ghost said, “You’re sure you can land there?”
Sitting in a leather chair across from him, the copilot said, “The runway’s long enough, but I don’t know if it’s fouled.
That’s not really an active strip anymore. Everything is at the international airport. It’s used for a single engine flying
club and helicopter charters.”
“You’d better hope it’s not fouled, because that’s where we’re going.” He glanced out the window, seeing the sun dying in
the sky, the short winter days compressing his plan, then had a thought.
He turned to the copilot and said, “They have helicopters for rent there?”
The copilot said, “Yeah, but we can’t land there after dark, that’s for sure. There aren’t any lights or navigation systems.”
“How much longer?”
“Thirty minutes, give or take.”
“You have Wi-Fi on this plane, yes? How do I get this tablet on it?”
The copilot took it and tapped a few settings, then passed it back, saying, “It’s on now.”
The Ghost pulled up a web browser and began typing. He found the page he was searching for and clicked on the contact link,
then turned to the cockpit and shouted, “Omar! I need a credit card.”
Omar came to him and said, “The pilot’s got to start talking to air traffic control soon. Did you come up with any ideas?
Everyone on the planet knows where we are. I don’t see a way out of this.”
“Give me your card. I think I found a way.”
“What can a credit card do? Our lifeline is getting to the safe house in Tierra del Fuego, but I don’t think we’re going to
be able to use the four-wheel vehicles that are waiting for us when we land.”
The Ghost pointed at the tablet, and Omar picked it up, reading a website for helicopter charters. The Ghost looked at the
copilot and said, “Do you have a cell phone that will work on the plane’s Wi-Fi?”
The copilot shook his head, but the Ghost could tell he was lying. He said, “Now is not the time to be a hero. Turn it on
and put it in Wi-Fi calling mode.”
He reluctantly pulled a smartphone from his pocket, entered the code for the lockscreen, opened an app, then passed it across
to the Ghost.
Omar put down the tablet and said, “You think they can get us to the safe house?”
“I do. We just need to take that tablet and show them where it is. It should be easy to find from the air.”
Omar held out a credit card, “This is our final account. The one I was going to use in Chile. It’ll be no good after you call.”
The Ghost said, “You still have the burned card? The one that started our troubles?”
“Yeah, but . . .”
The Ghost smiled and said, “It doesn’t matter if we use it now. They’re going to know everything we’ve done afterwards anyway.
The card isn’t going to cause any damage.”
Omar replaced the first card with a second, and the Ghost said, “Is there at least fifty thousand on that? This is going to
be expensive.”
Omar said, “Yes. Should be more than that. Might as well use it all.”
The Ghost said, “Take the copilot back to the cockpit and tell the captain to follow his instructions.”
They left and the Ghost dialed the number from the laptop into the copilot’s phone. When it was answered, he began a conversation
that lasted for over ten minutes, with him trying to persuade the person on the other end. Eventually, he read off the credit
card number and said, “We’ll be there in about fifteen minutes.”
He hung up and saw Omar leap to his feet in the cockpit. He came running back pointing out the window and shouting about an airplane. The Ghost leaned over and saw an Argentinian military A4 fighter jet keeping pace with them.
Omar said, “They’re calling the pilot. He’s asking to talk to them.”
The Ghost went to the cockpit. The captain said, “He’s demanding we talk to him or he’s going to shoot a missile.”
The Ghost turned to the copilot and said, “You know where you’re going?”
Ashen, the copilot looked as if he might be sick, but nodded his head. The Ghost told the captain to get out of his seat.
The Ghost took his place, putting on the headset and hearing someone blaring on the radio about engaging their aircraft.
He said, “How do I respond?”
The copilot showed him, and he clicked on the net, saying, “Stop talking and listen.” The headset went silent. He continued,
“If you shoot, you will kill the hostages. Do you have authority for that?”
He heard nothing in return. He looked at the display map and saw the international airport coming up fast, which meant his
landing strip was even closer.
He turned to the copilot and said, “Shouldn’t you be lining up or something?”
The copilot said, “I can’t do it. I can’t do it. It’s getting too dark.”
The A4 pilot came back at him, saying in heavily accented English, “What are your intentions?”
The Ghost clicked on and said, “We are going to land at the Ushuaia airport. We want a fuel truck waiting. We will release
the American secretary of state, but will keep the Israeli prime minister. If you fail to meet this demand, we will kill them
both.”
The copilot looked hopeful at the words and the Ghost said, “We’re not landing there. Follow the flight plan I gave you. Go
to the other strip.”
The copilot’s face soured again, and he nodded, banking the airplane in a slow turn.
The Ghost looked out the window and could see a small town below him, the area blanketed with snow.
He hoped Omar had been smart enough to realize what the weather would be here during winter when he stocked the safe house.
Over a channel of water, out in the distance, he could see the lights of the Ushuaia international airport. He looked down
in the direction of their turn and could see a strip of asphalt right on the near edge of the channel, a cluster of single
engine propeller airframes on one end and three large hangars lining up next to them. In front of the first hangar were two
helicopters, one with its rotors slowly turning.
The A4 said, “Follow me to the airport.”
The Ghost said, “Okay. You take the lead.”
He saw the A4 race ahead and turned to the copilot, saying, “How was he following us? How did he know our plane was the correct
one and not another?”
“The transponder. It broadcasts our callsign.”
“Turn it off.”
“We need that for air traffic control. Without it someone might run into us.”
“Nobody’s landing at our strip, and I’m sure they’ve stopped all traffic into the primary airport. We’re the only show in
town. As long as you don’t run into that fighter, we’ll be fine. Land this plane.”
The copilot flipped some switches, circled over the water, then straightened up with the strip the Ghost had seen during the
turn. He said, “I need the captain. Please.”
Omar stood up and waved the captain forward. When he reached the cockpit the Ghost said, “If you put this down in one piece,
you’re free. Do you understand?”
The captain nodded his head and scrambled to his seat, slapping on the headphones and grabbing the yoke.
The Ghost went to the rear, where Omar was in a seat with his hands clamped to the arms of his chair. The two hostages were
staring out the window, their seat belts cinched tight, faces grim.
The Ghost took his seat and buckled up, feeling the landing gear extend.
They dropped lower and lower, the edge of the strip coming at them slowly, then flying under them in the dying light.
They hit the ground much harder than expected, bouncing once, then the engines reversed hard, pushing the Ghost into his seat.
He unbuckled his seat belt and dashed to the cockpit, saying, “Keep going forward, straight to those helicopters.”
The pilot did so, and the Ghost got his first good look at the helicopters, seeing they were small and rudimentary, like a
wind-up child’s toy, with only four seats. The one in front, painted bright red, had a man inside, the rotors lazily moving.
Standing fifty feet to the front of it was a woman with a clipboard.
Omar came to him, looking out the window and saying, “Is she for us?”
“Yes. She thinks some rich newlywed paid forty thousand US dollars for a sunset glacier flight with his new bride.”
Omar said, “Well, she’s going to be in for a shock.” He looked closer, then said, “Those helicopters only have four seats.
Are we going to kill one of the hostages?”
“No. We’ll cram in.” He opened the overhead bin and began strapping the suicide vest back on his body and causing the hostages
to stare.
He said, “When the door opens, you go straight to the helicopter with the tablet and the pistol. You get control and show
the pilot where we’re headed.”
Omar said, “Why can’t we kill one here? We need to kill the prime minister. The command needs to see it on the news.”
The Ghost said, “I told you no.”
“We’ll still have the American! They won’t shoot us down with the American secretary of state on board! What is wrong with
you?”
The Ghost advanced on him, closing until his face was inches away. In a voice dripping with menace, he said, “I’ll kill him
after you tell me the third target. Not before.”
Omar spluttered, “We don’t have time for that now.”
The Ghost cinched his belt of explosives down and said, “Then he dies at the safe house, but he comes with us now. If you’re
worried about the seating, I’ll leave you here.”