Page 55 of Shadow Target

The cabin boomed with the report.

Something buzzed by her ear. The cockpit Plexiglas fractured but held, the impact of the bullet spiderwebbing cracks all over it, partially obscuring Willow’s view.

But she knew well enough where they were! She brought the tail down sharply, flinging David back into his seat, screaming curses.

The instant the tail cleared the edge of the dirt runway, she suddenly raised the nose of the Otter high into the sky.

The stall buzzer started shrieking throughout the plane’s interior.

The nose of the Otter swung higher, then stopped abruptly.

David was slammed headfirst against the ceiling, and he cursed and cried out.

Zere was thrown into the air. His gun flew from his hand as he hit the back of the copilot’s seat with an “OOF!” and clattered away as he collapsed to the metal deck.

A split second later, Willow shoved the yoke forward just as the rear wheel slammed into the dirt. The fuselage of the plane fell forward like a felled tree, the force of their impact buckling both front struts, blowing their tires, the propeller ploughing into the dirt. Dust exploded all around them, pluming hundreds of feet into the air. The aircraft augured into the runway like a D10 Caterpillar plowing a wall of dirt before it. Everything in the cargo area rushed forward from the massive deceleration.

She heard Zere scream out, collapsing behind the co-pilot’s seat.

Suddenly, three more of the pointed iron posts shot forward from the rear of the cargo hold, slamming out through the front of the copilot’s seat. They didn’t hit David, but what they did do was imprison him. His gun flew from his hand, disappearing beneath the cockpit console. He was trapped in the seat! There was no way for him to reach her!

The Otter slid fifty more feet, tearing metal screeching against the dirt runway, and jerked to a stop.

Yanking off her harness, Willow whipped around, diving through the space between the two seats. To her horror, she saw Zere impaled through the torso by two of the fence stakes, eyes staring at her, dead.

Grabbing her go bag, Willow knew she had only seconds or less before David’s soldiers would start their Toyotas and race to the crash site. Breathing hard, she yanked the bag’s strap across her shoulders, stepping through the tangle of equipment, striking the opening with her flight boot, the hatch jerking open. Leaping out, she sprinted toward the rear of the plane, still not seen by the soldiers through the thick, swirling cloud of dust surrounding the Otter’s crash. Leaping off the edge of the strip, she found herself in the woods, coughing and gagging from the dust.

Hurry! Hurry! She raced downhill, leaves, branches and rocks racing by all around her. It was rough and hard running. She had to hide! She had to make those soldiers think she was still somewhere inside the Otter! She had to have those precious moments to disappear into the thick, tall bushes and heavy woodlands, and escape their eyes.

Hurry!

CHAPTER 16

Luke Gibson had a bad feeling. His phone did not ring at the ten-minute mark as he stood in the Operations building of the Addis Zemen airport waiting for Willow’s call. What the hell? He knew she was flying solo this morning, without help from her copilot, and with only an inexperienced worker along to help with the heavy lifting. That would put a lot on her plate, though, which could explain it. He leaned casually against the flight desk, waiting to see if she landed in another ten minutes. He saw Shep entering the Ops building and he lifted his hand, waving him over. The engineer was dirty, sweaty, a white hard hat on his head, work gloves tucked in the back pocket of his well-worn, dusty jeans.

“Coming to see Willow?” Luke inquired in way of a hello.

“Yes, I came to see her, and what supplies she’s got on the Otter. We’re really hurting for those iron posts.” He pulled up the master list from his cell phone. “Says thirty posts should be on the plane. I’m crossing my fingers they are. We need every one of them right now before we can put up more cyclone fence.”

Nodding, Luke said, “Looks like General Hakym just flew in three of his Black Hawks with his men about ten minutes ago. Must be going to do some scouting around or they’re on a training exercise today. Usually? He’s not here at the Addis Zemen airport.”

“Busy morning,” Shep agreed.

“Mr. Gibson?” a male traffic controller behind the desk called to him.

Luke turned. “Yes?”

“Sir, we’ve just gotten an SOS and Location GPS on your Otter. Something seems to be up.”

Shep scowled. “What does that mean, Luke?”

Luke turned fully toward the air traffic controller, who handed him a sheet of paper. “All planes have a location beacon on them,” he explained as he read the Otter’s data printout. “Some have a crash or SOS button that can be pressed if the plane’s in trouble. Delos made sure any plane flown by the charity had that SOS button installed.”

Shep’s heart went into overtime. “Where is she?” He looked at his watch. By now, Willow should have already landed here. Fear began to eat at him.

Luke, still rapidly reading the information on the printout, replied, “I don’t know, but something’s happened.” He looked up at Shep, telling him of Dev and Ginny’s food poisoning, and of the workman from the Bahir Dar warehouse, Zere, who was on board with Willow instead. “I’m calling General Hakym,” scowled Luke, and pulled out his other phone with a direct line to the Ethiopian military leader. The general answered instantly. Luke gave him the Otter’s coordinates.

“That GPS location is here at Zegye,” the air traffic controller said, tapping the clear plastic over a large map on the desk, as Luke waited for the general’s response. “Maybe fifteen minutes northeast of Bahir Dar.” He produced a copy of Willow’s flight plan.

---