Page 100 of Exit Strategy

“Jesus,” Sadie said.

“The VIPs would literally drive their personal RVs and other vehicles into the aircraft and at final count, it’s wheels up and gone for a New Eden compound, likely somewhere in Africa, or any of two dozen islands. If we can’t catch the jet on the ground, there is no way to stop them. They could go anywhere in the Caribbean, any of the Atlantic islands, fuck, they could vanish into the cold islands in the south Atlantic or Antarctic Sea.”

“So, we need to move quickly,” the captain said.

“Hanger seventeen at the cargo terminal, not the private terminal,” I said.

“Cargo?” Sadie asked.

“The Y-20 is a massive cargo jet, not a Lear jet,” I added. “The private terminal isn’t set up for anything that heavy.”

“But they have those too?” she asked.

“Absolutely, and part of Heimdall is that these jets all launch at the same time from their respective home fields and start filing increasingly random flight plans, some even violently deviating from them to draw attention to themselves. There is a Lear 3 based out of Houston, Hiram Emerson’s backyard, and it has a preplanned path of launching from the airport there, heading for LAX. Then, as soon as it is out of Texas airspace, the plan has it suddenly deviating toward Mexico. They call it the Reverse Coyote. Everyone goes chasing a Lear 3 making a bandit run into Mexicali or Mexico City, and the entire time, almost everything is in the guts of a Chinese cargo jet going God knows where.” I let out a breath.

“If it’s that simple, we call ATC and have them hold the flight,” Kyle said.

“Easier said than done. You make that call and all those federal agencies want to know who made the call and everything about them. It’s one thing to call the ICPD, when we’ve pretty much put them on our payroll and another to mess with BWI customs, the FAA, and ATC. Things get really ugly there,” the captain said.

“Of course, it does,” Sadie said.

“It will take a bit of time for them to get everything in place, before they can go wheels up,” I said.

“But they know you know, right?” Kyle asked.

“Probably, but a plan that big, it would be nigh impossible for them to change it,” I said. “It took years to get it in place. They can’t just up and pop out a contingency for their contingency plan,” I said.

“So, we’re storming a jet?” Sadie asked.

“Well, I think so,” I said. The captain made a sour face but nodded. “I mean, unless any of you have an interceptor jet or something at BWI that we could use to follow them to another country and then take them down commando style.”

“No, we don’t own any aircraft,” Kyle said. “Too expensive, I was told.”

“Theyaretoo expensive, and we can handle this,” the captain countered.

“I just have one question. Why are the three of you willing to do this? You don’t have a stake in it, there’s no payout, and they’ve not done anything personally to any of you. I need to know motive.”

“I know what they did toher, Kurt, and if I can do this and protect even one girl from going what she went through, or even whatIwent through, it’s worth it,” Sadie said. “You can all talk the rest of this out, but if we’re going to storm a plane, that sounds like we need toys.”

“She does love her toys, now that she has them and knows how to use them,” Kyle said, with a hint of admiration in his voice. “As for me, abuse is abuse and I won’t abide it. Not like this. I might be a hitman by profession, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have standards. Men like this deserve a place in Hell, not in a sanctuary state.”

“They pretty much covered the hard points, and I feel responsible for getting you the posting at New Eden, back when I thought they were tree-huggers with a better PR department. I don’t have a personal stake other than they deceived me. Is that enough for you?” the captain asked. I nodded.

“Let’s get geared up. Roan, can you throw something in the jet’s way, slow them down a bit?” Kyle asked. The captain nodded.

“While I’m covering that, grab my party bag and put it in the Rover. I’m thinking we might have to do a little off-roading,” he added.

We split, and I followed Kyle to the house armory. He was quick and handed me a dragonscale vest and then gestured to the racks of guns. I had a moment of admiration. These weren’t trophies and prizes, these were the tools for an entire company of Royal Marines, everything from bullpup shotguns and Belgian P90s to AR-15s and Uzis. Kyle looked over at Sadie, already kitted out in a tactical harness and body armor as she hefted an antique grenade launcher.

“Not the place for that, airports aren’t grenade friendly,” he said. She gave the weapon a wistful look, patted the stock and put it back in its rack. The two of them packed themselves out with more guns and knives than I expected a half-dozen people would carry. Kyle grabbed a nylon duffel and slung it over his shoulder. “Come on, you said time was short.”

I was about to grab one of the AR pattern rifles when I saw her.

FN FAL, the right arm of the Free World, chambered for .280 British. My heart skipped a beat as I grabbed the rifle and the belt of magazines to go with her.God save the Queen, I sighed, and felt for a moment, all could be right in the world.

It certainly could be.

We left the house in two vehicles. Kyle and I took point in his Lamborghini, while the captain and their…girlfriend?...brought up the rear in the Rover.

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