The Ghost Pattern

…44

The hangar, buried in the side of a hill, was engulfed in thick darkness and an eerily silent atmosphere. Not a leaf moved; thick cloud cover prevented moonlight from casting any light on the ground, and the hangar stood there, barely visible even to the trained eye. Only the hangar door was accessible; the rest of the structure had been excavated into the side of the hill, making the grassy hill act as the perfect camouflage for the facility.

Two guards, busy chatting and smoking, sat huddled together on a nearby tree trunk, not paying any attention to the hangar door. By the slight bluish glare on their faces, they bunched over a mobile phone, most likely looking at pictures or playing a game. Nothing else one could do with a phone in those parts of the world; there wasn’t a cell tower for miles.

The man, dressed completely in black, knew exactly where to go. He approached the structure, sneaking silently, and opened the small access door next to the main hangar doors. He walked inside, closing the door behind him, then stopped for a while, listening.

There wasn’t a single sound coming from inside the hangar. Outside, swamp toads had resumed their concert, briefly interrupted by his arrival. Feeling comfortable with the silence, the man switched on a small LED flashlight, and allowed his eyes to become accustomed to the light.

There it was… the massive jet stood there, completely dark and immobile. The man walked around its huge landing gear, looking for the best location to place the explosives. With minimum effort, he climbed on top of one of the wheels, then inside the landing gear compartment.

He then opened the backpack he was carrying, and placed the C4 charges carefully on one of the gear struts, securing it in place with duct tape. Then he placed the timer and detonation pins, inserting the pins slowly, carefully, into the putty-like explosive.

Then he checked his watch and set the timer, allowing enough time for the cleanup team to arrive, to pick up the debris, and take it out to sea.

At that point, he switched the timer on, and watched for a few seconds how the timer counted down in red LED digits, glowing in the darkness of the landing-gear compartment.

Satisfied, he hopped off the wheel, exited the hangar, and disappeared into the night, unseen and unheard.