Electra

Chapter 27

“I wonder what’s under that tarp,” Bones said, while he, Maddock and their captive waited under the lifeboat. Thankfully the Japanese man had remained quiet and compliant thus far. Maddock tapped him and pointed out to the tarp-covered bundle.

“What’s under the tarp?”

The man made a grunting noise while he looked out at the tarp, and then seemed to lose interest. “Airplane.”

Bones looked at Maddock, then back to the captive. “Airplane? What kind?”

Having another way out of here was a possibility they hadn’t considered.

“There’s no way even the smallest of planes could take off from this ship,” Maddock pointed out.

“Unless it’s a float plane.” Bones’ suggestion piqued Maddock’s interest as he mentally pictured the airplanes with pontoons instead of wheels that could land and take off on water, like the one that had been destroyed at the pier. He looked at their prisoner. “What type of plane is it?”

The captive shook his head. “It no work. Just model.”

Maddock and Bones exchanged quizzical glances. “Model of what?” Maddock pressed.

The crewman shrugged. “Old plane. You go see.” He pointed over at the tarp. Bones looked that way with interest.

“Don’t.” Maddock looked at Bones, shaking his head. “Not worth the risk. We hunker down here until he’s back with the sat-phone.”

Bones made a mock sad face. “But it’s a plane, Maddock.”

“A model.”

Bones eyed the captive doubtfully. “Not that I think this guy would ever lie to us…but there’s kind of a language barrier at play here. Maybe he doesn’t mean the word ‘model’ like the way we think of ‘model’.”

“How else would he think of it?” Maddock glanced at his watch.

“I don’t know, model, like really good? A model plane, as in one that all other planes look up to?”

Maddock muttered something incomprehensible under his breath.

“It’s okay, we can just sit here and wonder…” Bones glanced longingly out at the tarp-covered plane.

“You know the price if you get spotted.”

“I won’t be spotted. Besides, it’s getting a little hot in here, some fresh air will keep me alert for when it’s time to move.”

“Go, then.”

Bones crouched at the entrance to their hideout, scoping out the work deck. Satisfied the coast was clear, he made a silent, nimble dash to the end of the tarp where Maddock had waited before. He undid one of the tie-downs and slid beneath the tarp. Beneath it he found that it was dim but he could still see in the bluish light from the work deck’s floodlights penetrating the fabric.

Immediately he could make out that he was in the presence of a large, metal machine. He reached out a hand and ran it along the smooth metal of a…wing! Looking back for confirmation, he nodded to himself as he recognized a tail section. Then, up front, the fuselage tapered into a rounded nose. What’s more, Bones realized, this was no modern aircraft. In fact…his mouth dropped open as he processed the unbelievable.

He was looking at a Lockheed Electra airplane. It couldn’t be Earhart’s, though. He’d personally witnessed it slide into the abyss. Plus, this one was in pristine condition, looking as though it had never even spent time in the air, much less underwater. He gazed in wonder along its length.

Then what the heck was it?

Bones recalled the Mizuhi crewman’s words. No work, just a model. He decided to confirm that for himself. He crept beneath the wing over to where it joined the body of the plane, where one of the twin turboprop engines were. It had a propeller, he could see that much even in the weak ambient light. He wished he had a flashlight to peer into the engine’s innards to see if it had actual parts or was just an empty shell, as the crewman had suggested. It looked real enough from the outside in this poor light, but he wasn’t about to start prying panels open.

He listened for a few seconds to make sure all was silent out on deck, and then slinked back toward the tail section. He passed the supine body of the man he had knocked unconscious and stopped to check his pulse. Still alive. He continued on to the tail section. There was a small tear in the tarp overhead here, and a little more light came through. Enough for him read the serial number painted on the tail.

NR 16020.

The same as Amelia Earhart’s!

Bones was confused. Here was a plane that looked exactly like Earhart’s Electra, even down to the serial number. He wasn’t sure which exact model it was, but it sure looked a lot like the one they had found underwater, and yet there was no way it could be the one they had found underwater.

A model…He reflected on the crewman’s words again, then on the fireside conversation in Spinney’s camp about how Mizuhi wanted to turn the island into a resort based on Earhart’s plane…

And then Bones heard a noise.

Not human. Machine. He laid a hand flat on the deck and felt the vibration. The ship’s engines were starting up! A few seconds later, a second sound came — the grating of metal on metal, which Bones recognized as the ship’s anchor being hauled back in. They were getting underway.

Not sure what that could mean since it was still the middle of the night, Bones decided it was time to get back to Maddock and their captive. He stayed underneath the tarp while he walked back along the plane’s length to the nose, the end closest to where they hid under the lifeboat. He had just gripped the bottom of the tarp to lift it high enough to slip under when he heard voices approaching on the work deck.

Not Maddock’s.

Cursing lightly under his breath, he let the tarp drop back into position and retreated from the edge. The men he could hear spoke in Japanese, so he had no idea what they were saying, but they didn’t sound angry. They sounded industrious, though, like they had a job to do and they were getting it done.

Bones froze in place as he heard the sound of the rumpling tarp from over by the tail section as someone started to pull it up. A sliver of artificial light tracked toward him. Realizing that the tarp was being removed, Bones knew he had to do something. If he simply remained standing here he would be seen in a few more seconds when the tarp was removed.

He looked around the deck beneath the plane. Saw no recourse of any kind. He considered slipping out from under the tarp and making a dash for it somewhere else on the deck, perhaps to the lifeboat, but from the sound of the voices around, there were far too many men in his midst to give that any chance of success. The tarp began to slide from the plane.

Then Bones looked up. The model plane’s cockpit was directly above him. He moved to the base of the cockpit where the step ladder was and climbed. He saw the shadow of a man duck underneath the tarp by the tail of the plane to help pull it off, and prayed there was a real cockpit and not some filled-in space. He topped over the edge of the cockpit on the ladder and was relieved to see there was in fact a deep cockpit.

Bones flopped into it without making any noise, just before the rest of the tarp was pulled away from the plane. The inside of the cockpit was flooded with light. Fortunately, the only way a man could see into it was if he climbed up into it as Bones had done, or if he was looking down from above.

Bones took a glance at the controls and smiled. They weren’t real gauges, just little plastic discs with numbers painted on them. The Japanese guy was right. This was just a life-size model of a plane — of Amelia Earhart’s Electra. Bones curled up on the floor of the cockpit, making himself as small as possible, which wasn’t easy with his size.

He heard men walk nearby, then retreat. Shortly after that, he felt the model plane begin to roll.

The plane was being moved.