"Two things, zitface," he'd said. "You touch that radio, you're dead. This plane don't come down in the fuckin' Bahamas, you're dead."
Justin knew the guy would be crazy to shoot him, because then who would fly the plane? But he also knew that the guy was crazy, because why else would he be doing this?
Adding to Justin's discomfort was a nagging alarm, beeping in his ear, telling him that the rear door was open. The door, and the hanging stairs, were making the plane handle weird. Justin was worried about the landing in Freeport. If they made it to Freeport.
Please, he thought — although he was not sure to whom he was beaming the thought — please send some help.
The two F-16s had used rockets to accelerate their takeoff from Homestead Air Reserve Base in South Dade County. The instant they were airborne, they turned sharply toward the northeast, and in under a minute, they were approaching the speed of sound, closing on the civilian plane over Miami Beach as though it were moving no faster than the freighters out in the Gulf Stream. The fighter pilots' orders were to stay behind and above the civilian plane, out of sight but nearby. They were not to arm their missiles. Yet.
As Greet, Seitz, and Baker trotted through the crowd, they saw a man in shorts and T-shirt running in their direction, looking upset.
"POLICE!" the man shouted.
Greer and Seitz ignored him; whatever this guy's problem was, they weren't interested. But Baker stared at the man's face. He'd seen this guy, but he couldn't remember where. Then he saw the woman running behind the upset man, and it clicked.
"Mrs. Herk!" he shouted. The man and woman both stopped, looked at him.
"I'm Detective Baker," he said, "Miami PD."
"Oh, thank God!" Anna said, grabbing Baker's arm. "You have to…»
"Hold it," said Baker. He shouted ahead to Greer and Seitz, who were disappearing in the crowd ahead, "Agent Greer! Back here!"
Greer turned and trotted back, impatient. "What?" he said.
"This is Mrs. Herk," said Baker. "It was her house. Where the suitcase was."
In an instant, Greer had his hand on Anna's arm.
"Mrs. Greer," he said, "I'm with the FBI. I need you to…»
"My daughter," said Anna. "She's in the plane with that man, and he shot at us, and you have to…»
"Listen, Mrs. Herk," said Greer, now gripping her arms with both his hands. "We're concerned about your daughter, but we have to know, where is that metal suitcase now?"
Anna shook her head. "I don't know," she said. "They had it, they took it when they left the house…»
"Is it on the plane?" asked Greer. "Did they take the metal suitcase on the plane?"
"I don't know," said Anna, starting to cry. "I don't know about the suitcase."
"Mrs. Herk," said Greer, shaking her, "you have to…»
Eliot pulled Anna away and stepped right in front of Greer. Their noses were a half inch apart.
"She says she doesn't know where the goddamn suitcase is, OK?" Eliot said. "She wants her daughter. She doesn't care about your fucking suitcase."
"Who're you?" asked Greer.
"I'm her friend," said Eliot.
"Well, friend," said Greer, "if you want to help her daughter, you better care about the fucking suitcase."
"She wasn't with the suitcase," said Eliot. "She was with me. This guy was with the suitcase." Eliot pointed to Puggy, who had just trotted up.
Greer turned to Puggy.
"Who're you?" he asked.
"Puggy," said Puggy.
"You were with the suitcase?" asked Greer. "A metal suitcase? You saw it?"
"I carried it," said Puggy. "It's heavy."
"You carried it?" asked Greer. "Where?»
"To the plane," said Puggy.
"It's on the plane?"
"Yeah," said Puggy.
Greer thought for a second, then said, "Did anybody open the suitcase?"
"Over there," said Puggy, pointing toward the security checkpoint.
"They opened it there?" asked Greer.
"Yeah," said Puggy. "They made him turn it on."
Greer's face went pale.
"How did he turn it on?" he asked.
"There was these, like, switches, that he… " Puggy made a hand motion, flipping up imaginary switches.
"Then what happened?" asked Greer. "Did anything happen when he did that?"
"Lights," said Puggy. "Little numbers."
Greer glanced at Seitz and Baker, who were both listening. Seitz's face was blank. Baker looked sick.
Greer looked back at Puggy. "When did this happen?" he asked. "How long ago did he turn it on?"
Puggy thought about it.
"It's been a while now," he said.
Monica's legs ached from crouching in the tiny space allotted for legroom in front of the seat. She was trying to think, but it was hard with the horrendous roar of wind and engines coming through the open door.
Twice, very carefully, she'd moved her head just enough to look around the seat in front of her toward the front of the plane. Both times, Snake was facing forward. Once she'd heard him say something to the pilot, but she couldn't make out what it was.
From time to time, she made eye contact with Matt, crouching across the aisle. She tried to look confident, but she definitely didn't feel confident. She had no plan. The only thing she'd thought of was to jump Snake from behind, but he'd almost certainly fire his gun, and there were passengers — Monica didn't know how many — in front of him. And of course the pilots. If he shot them, everybody would die. On the other hand, if she didn't try to grab him, he might kill everybody anyway. He was definitely crazy.
Monica looked over at Matt, gave him another confident expression. He stared back. He was clearly scared.
Monica thought, He's right.
Greer was standing at the edge of the main concourse traffic, next to an abandoned airline counter, talking into his special phone. Seitz and Baker were next to him. A few feet away were Eliot, who had his arm around Anna, and Puggy, who was holding hands with Nina.
"Still nothing from the pilot?" Greer said to the phone. "OK, and his location is… OK. How about Homestead? They're… right, OK, good." Greer looked at his watch. "Right, that's affirmative."
"I don't understand," Anna said to Baker. "Why aren't you going out to the plane? Why aren't there police out there?"
"Mrs. Herk," said Baker, "the plane took off."
"Oh my God," she said, putting her hand to her face. Eliot hugged her tight, imagining how awful he'd feel if Matt were in that plane.
"But they're tracking it," said Baker. "They have it on radar. That's what he's talking to them about now."
"So what happens?" asked Eliot. "When the plane lands, they arrest him?"
Baker looked at Seitz.
Seitz said, "They'll do whatever it takes."
The noise was driving Snake crazy. He decided to try to close the door. Facing the cockpit, he walked backward slowly toward the rear of the plane.
Baker pulled Seitz aside, close to where Greer was talking on the special phone.
"What do you mean, 'Whatever it takes'?" asked Baker.
"Just what I said."
Baker stared at Seitz. A few feet away, Greer was saying, "Has that been cleared? Can I talk to… Sorry, I didn't realize. Yes, sir. I understand, sir. Yes, sir, they've acquired it."
"Who's acquired what?" Baker asked Seitz.
"Keep it down," said Seitz, nodding toward Anna.
"It's fighter jets, isn't it?" said Baker, his voice low. "From Homestead. You're gonna shoot this plane down, aren't you?"
Seitz said, "Whatever it takes."
Snake was backing slowly toward the rear of the plane, keeping his eye on the pilot. He was now even with the third row from the last. And now he was even with the second from the last. One more step, and he'd be right next to Monica and Matt; he'd see them for sure. Monica saw she was going to have no choice.