Ghost Flight

6

The MV Global Challenger lay at anchor on the Thames, a heavy sky glowering low and sullen above the masthead. The black taxi that had ferried Raff and Jaeger from Heathrow airport pulled up at the kerb, tyres coming to rest in a grey puddle slick with oil.

It struck Jaeger that the taxi fare was enough to furnish an entire Bioko classroom with books. And when Raff didn’t tip the cabbie quite as much as he’d evidently been expecting, he sped off without a word, splashing the puddle over the tops of their shoes.

London in February. Some things never changed.

He’d slept nearly the entirety of the two flights – mainland Equatorial Guinea to Nigeria in a noisy C-130 Hercules cargo aircraft, and then on to London. They’d flown the Lagos to London leg in the absolute lap of luxury, but from experience Jaeger knew that first class came with caveats.

Always.

Someone was footing the bill for those BA flights, and at seven grand a pop it was no small change. When he’d pressed Raff on the subject, the big, easy-going Maori had seemed oddly reticent. Clearly someone wanted Jaeger back in London badly and money was no object, but Raff didn’t want to talk about it.

Jaeger figured he was good with that. He trusted the man absolutely.

By the time they’d hit London, Jaeger was starting to feel the cumulative effects of five weeks’ incarceration in Black Beach Prison, plus the battles and escape that had followed. He made his way up the Global Challenger’s gangplank, limbs creaking like an old man, just as the heavens opened.

A former Arctic survey ship, the Global Challenger was the headquarters of Enduro Adventures, the business that Jaeger had founded upon leaving the military, along with Raff and one other fellow warrior. That man – Stephen Feaney – was standing at the top of the gangplank, half obscured by the falling rain.

He held out a hand in greeting. ‘Never thought we’d find you. You look like shit. Seems like it was only just in time.’

‘You know how it is.’ Jaeger shrugged. ‘That big Maori bastard – President Chambara was just about to cook and eat him. Someone had to drag him out of there.’

Raff snorted. ‘Like hell!’

There was laughter. The three men shared the briefest of moments as the rain hammered across the open deck.

It was good – sweet – to be back together again.

Soldiering at the elite level always had been a young man’s game. Jaeger, Raff and Feaney had been where few others had been and done things few ever imagined possible. It had been the ultimate adventure, but it had taken its toll.

A few years back, they’d decided to quit while they were still ahead. They’d taken their skills learned at the taxpayer’s expense and used them to set up their own business. Enduro Adventures – motto: ‘Planet Earth is our playground’ – was the result.

Jaeger’s brainchild, Enduro was an outfit dedicated to taking wealthy individuals – businessmen, sportsmen and a sprinkling of celebrities – on some of the world’s most challenging wilderness experiences. Over time, they’d built it into a lucrative concern, attracting big personalities on some of the most incredible adventures planet Earth had to offer.

But then, practically overnight, Jaeger’s life had fallen apart and he’d disappeared off the map. He’d become Enduro Adventure’s invisible man. Feaney had been forced to take over the money-making side of things, and Raff the business end of expeditioning – although it was neither man’s natural milieu.

Jaeger, a captain, was the only former officer among the three of them. Back in the military, he’d commanded D Squadron, a sixty-man SAS unit. He’d worked closely with senior command and could move easily in high-end business circles.

Feaney was older, and he’d come up the hard way through the ranks, ending up serving as Jaeger’s sergeant major. As for Raff, his drinking and fighting had always made promotion something of a challenge, not that the big Maori had ever seemed to mind.

The last three years had proven something of a challenge for Enduro Adventures, left bereft of its figurehead. Jaeger knew that a part of Feaney resented him for his Bioko disappearing act. But had the same horror befallen Feaney, Jaeger figured he’d very likely have struggled too. Time and experience had taught him that every man had his breaking point. When Jaeger’s had been reached, he’d fled to the last place on earth anyone would ever look for him – Bioko.