Turbulence (Stone Barrington #46)(70)

“Looks like you’ve put on a few pounds,” Kelly said, “but it’s oddly becoming.”

“Come on, let’s get this airplane closed up,” Stone said. The four of them descended the airstair, Stone pressed the button again, and the door rose into position, while the interior lights of the airplane turned off.

“This way,” the duke called to them.

They followed him past the wing tip of the G-650 and came to a large object under canvas. A cable extended from the center of the tarp to a pulley attached to a hangar beam, then continued down to a reel.

Stone walked over to the reel, found a switch and flipped it. The reel began to turn, a whirring noise commenced, and the cable went taut. A moment later, the canvas began to rise.

It moved very slowly and, as it did, the outline of a large helicopter was revealed. Stone found another light switch and turned it on, illuminating the machine.

“It’s a Sikorsky S-92,” Stone said, “a corporate helicopter built in the United States. It’s a good load-carrier—six or eight plump executives.”

“Fewer than that,” the duke replied, pointing to a row of seats lined up next to the aircraft.

“Well,” Stone said, “what do you suppose they loaded where the seats used to be?”

“Let’s find out,” the duke said, reaching for the door handle to the main cabin. As he did, the sound of a heavy truck pulling up outside was heard, complete with squealing brakes.

Someone, somewhere pressed a button, and the giant hangar doors began to rise.





56



AS THE HANGAR DOORS rose the sound of boots striking the tarmac could be heard. Stone turned toward the G-650 and pointed, then began to say, loudly, “And this is the Gulfstream G-650, the largest corporate aircraft built in the United States, with the exception of the Boeing BBJ, which is really a 737 with an executive interior.” Stone turned and looked toward where the big door once was and saw a line of maybe eight men, each carrying a Kalashnikov, staring at the airplane, apparently listening to him. “Kelly, tell them we are conducting an inspection at the request of President Petrov and do not wish to be disturbed.”

Kelly obliged, in her best Russian.

The men stared at her incomprehendingly. She barked something at them, and they shuffled toward the truck, got on, and were driven away.

“Quickly,” the duke said. He took hold of the door handle of the rear compartment of the helicopter and opened it. The crate Stone had seen before on a different helicopter rested there, nestled in a two-tube life raft that would normally have held four people. Strapped to the top of the crate was a yellow plastic package with Russian markings.

“Kelly,” Stone said, “come take a look at this and translate.”

Kelly walked over to the chopper and looked at the package. “It’s a parachute,” she said. “The pack contains a CO2 bottle for inflation.”

“And a raft to keep it afloat,” the duke said.

“All right,” Stone said, “I think it’s time to get out of here before that platoon comes back with its commanding officer.” Stone turned off the lights in the hangar and found a door switch on the outside. He lowered the door and they left the hangar as they had found it. The others were already in the rear compartment, but Stone paused, dug into his pocket and came up with the satphone. “Just a minute,” he said. “I’ve got to report in, and we might not get a signal inside the car.”

He pressed the autodial button and Lance answered immediately. “Where are you?”

“We’re outside the big hangar,” Stone replied, “and we’ve just had a good look inside. There’s a Sikorsky S-92 in there, and the crate I saw before in the other chopper is there, resting in an inflated life raft with a parachute strapped to it. What does that tell you?”

“A great deal,” Lance said. “How many guards?”

“Only two stationed out here, but a truckload turned up a minute ago. We told them we were conducting an inspection at the direction of Petrov, and they left.”

“They’ll be back as soon as they’ve reported to someone who doesn’t believe it,” Lance said. “Hang on. I need to speak to our naval component.” Stone was put on hold.

“Stone,” Kelly said, “talk to him later, okay? Let’s get the hell out of here while we can.”

“Just a minute,” Stone said.

Lance came back on line. “There’s a Korean freighter in the Channel, not more than sixty miles away, moving very slowly. Get the hell out of there.”

“Roger!” Stone shouted. He leapt into the car. “Herbert, get us out of here!”

The car didn’t move. “Where to?” he asked.

The duke spoke up, “Turn right ninety degrees; there’s a rear gate about two miles in that direction. As fast as you can, please.”

Herbert did not hesitate. He started the big car, got it into gear, and made the turn. The moment they departed the tarmac, the vehicle rolled with every bump, like a drunken boat in a choppy sea.

“Hold on, everyone,” the duke said. “What did Bette Davis say? ‘It’s going to be a bumpy ride!’” And it was.

“Should I slow down?” Herbert asked.

“Don’t slow down, Herbert,” the duke said. “She can take it.”