Shadow Tyrants

FIFTY-ONE

The cockpit door was tantalizingly close, only a dozen feet from the lowest step of the front staircase, but there was no way Linc was getting down there unless he took a chance. The steep incline meant that the shooters below would be able to see his legs and take them out before he made it halfway to the bottom.

So he took one of the wide sofa cushions from the nearest suede couch. He perched it near the top of the stairs and said to Tiny, “Get ready.”

Then he pushed the cushion over the lip of the top step and dove onto it. It provided the perfect sled for him as he went down the staircase headfirst with gun in hand.

The first guard was so surprised by the tactic that he fired behind Linc, who took him down with two shots.

The second guard was faster, and a bullet grazed Linc’s thigh. He fired back and hit the guard in the shoulder. The man retreated into a room behind the stairs.

Linc waved Tiny down. “Hurry!”

As Tiny passed Linc, he said, “You’re bleeding.”

“I’ve had worse,” Linc said. “But not getting shot at all is better.”

While Linc kept his eye on the room the guard went in, Tiny started placing thermite on the cockpit door.

It took twelve shots from Juan and Eddie before they were able to hit the guard blocking the galley. When he went down in a heap, they approached cautiously in staggered formation.

They arrived to find the galley empty.

“They went down to the cargo bay,” Juan said.

“Why?” Eddie asked.

Juan pointed at the medical cabinet. “The portable oxygen tank is missing.”

“I don’t like that.”

“I agree. We need to get down there. Linc, status?”

“About to access the cockpit.”

“Good. Let me know when you’re in. We’re heading down to the cargo hold to find Taylor.”

“Roger that.”

Instead of pressing the button to call the elevator, Juan pried open the door and saw the cab below them. They’d have to go through the emergency access panel in the roof.

Tiny had finished putting the thermite around the border of the cockpit door when Linc saw the injured guard come back out of his hiding place.

The idiot was holding an assault rifle with his good arm.

Linc shoved Tiny down as the guard fired on full auto. High-velocity rounds chewed into the cockpit door right where they’d been standing an instant before.

Linc rolled over and unloaded his pistol at the guard, who staggered back under the withering fire and fell to the floor.

Tiny gaped at the bullet holes in the door while the Chairman called on the comms, “You still with us, Linc?”

“We’re okay,” Linc said, helping Tiny up. “Accessing cockpit now.”

He pulled the detonation cord on the thermite.

Sparks flew as molten metal cut through the locked bolts. When it was over, the door sprang loose.

Linc yanked it open and charged into the cockpit.

Both pilots were slumped over their control sticks, starbursts of scarlet blood on their backs.

Some of the displays and controls were destroyed by the rounds as well, but none of them had penetrated the windscreen. The blue sea of the Mediterranean was visible below.

They pulled the dead pilot from his seat, and Tiny climbed in.

“Is it still flyable?” Linc said.

Tiny shook his head. “Not sure. At least for now the autopilot is still engaged. Ask me again in a minute.”

Juan was perched on top of the elevator roof while Eddie waited above him in the galley. There wasn’t room for both of them to stand there and still open the hatch.

Juan pulled the hatch up and ducked down with his pistol. The guard was waiting outside for the elevator to be called, so Juan fired through the window, hitting the man twice in the chest.

He lowered himself into the cab and pushed the door aside, waving for Eddie to come down.

Juan exited and saw Taylor at the aft end of the cargo bay. She turned to see Juan and fired in his direction. He dove behind the Cadillac for cover, but he could still see her through the windshield.

Her arm was wrapped in the end of a yellow strap holding down the rear tire of the Bugatti. She had jury-rigged another strap that lashed the oxygen tank to her midsection. The mask was firmly fixed over her face.

She fired two shots in his direction, then holstered the pistol and slammed her hand against a large button on the bulkhead. A red light above her head flashed. She pressed it a second time. Then a third.

Only at the last second did Juan realize what she was doing. He dropped his gun so he could grab onto a tie-down holding one of the Caddy’s front tires in place.

Eddie was just dropping into the elevator cab. Juan yelled, “Hold on to something!”

Then while they were still flying at thirty-five thousand feet, the cargo bay door began to open.