With a 105-knot cruise speed and a 2,320 nautical mile range, she was capable of making the flight to the coast of East Africa. As an added bonus, her crew and Jaeger and his team had worked together closely on their previous mission to the Amazon.
Once over the coast of East Africa, the Airlander would remain in continuous orbit for the duration of the mission. She didn’t need to be directly over Little Mafia Island to keep watch; she could perform her duties from as much as seventy kilometres away.
She also had great cover in case she came to Kammler’s attention. Beneath the waters of this part of the Indian Ocean there lay some of the world’s richest gas reserves. The Chinese – in the form of China National Offshore Oil Corporation – were surveying several concessions in the area. Officially, the Airlander was there at the behest of CNOOC, carrying out an aerial survey function.
The Airlander had arrived over Little Mafia Island some thirty-six hours previously. Since then she’d beamed back scores of surveillance photos. The jungle appeared almost unbroken – apart from the one dirt airstrip, which was only long enough to accommodate a Buffalo or similar aircraft.
Wherever Kammler had sited his monkey houses, labs and accommodation facilities, they appeared to be craftily hidden – either positioned under thick jungle canopy, or underground. That promised to make the team’s mission doubly challenging, and that in turn made the Airlander’s extra capabilities all the more welcome.
The Airlander 50 dispatched to East Africa was actually a top-secret developmental version of the aircraft. Aft of the flight pod slung below the massive bulbous hull was a cargo bay, one normally reserved for whatever heavy loads the airship might be carrying. But this Airlander was a little different. She was an airborne aircraft carrier and gun platform, with a seriously lethal capability. Two British Taranis drones – an ultra-high-tech stealth warplane – were parked within the cargo bay, which doubled as a well-equipped flight deck.
With a wingspan of ten metres, and just a fraction longer in length, the Taranis – named after the Celtic god of thunder – was a third the size of the American Reaper drone. And with a speed of Mach 1 – some 767 m.p.h. – it was twice as swift in the air. With two internal missile bays, the Taranis packed a serious punch, plus the sleek stealth technology made the drone all but invisible to any enemy.
The inspiration behind converting the Airlander to such a carrier function was a pre-Second World War airship, the USS Macon, the world’s first – and until now only – flying aircraft carrier. Using technology that was now many decades old, the Macon had a series of trapezes slung beneath her cigar-shaped hull. Sparrowhawk biplanes had been able to fly under the airship and hook themselves up to these trapezes, after which the airship had been able to winch them in.
Inspired by the Macon, the Airlander 50 also carried an AW-159 Wildcat helicopter – a fast and highly manoeuvrable British chopper capable of carrying eight troops. The rationale behind bringing the Wildcat was that she would be able to pull Jaeger and his team out of Little Mafia Island once their mission was complete.
And at that stage Jaeger fervently hoped they would be eight in total – Ruth and Luke having joined them.
He was certain that his wife and son were being held on the island. In fact he had proof that that was the case, although he’d not mentioned it to any of the others. It was something he wasn’t prepared to share. There was too much at stake, and he didn’t want to risk anyone deterring him from his primary mission.
The photograph that Kammler had emailed him had shown Ruth and Luke kneeling in a cage. Across one side of that cage had been stamped a faded name: Katavi Reserve Primates.
Jaeger – the Hunter – was closing in.
75
Leaping out of the dark slash of the 747’s jump hatch was like plummeting into a coffin – but there was no other way.
Jaeger threw himself forward into the churning, empty blackness, and instantly he hit the 747’s hurricane-force slipstream. The pilot had reduced the 747’s airspeed, but still he felt the punishing blast spinning him around, as the massive jet engines roared and snorted like a dragon just above him.
Moments later he was through the worst and rocketing to earth like a human-shaped missile.
Directly below he could just make out the ghostly silhouette of Lewis Alonzo, the man who’d jumped immediately ahead of him, as a darker spot against the dark night sky. Jaeger stabilised his position, then accelerated into a head-first dive in an effort to catch Alonzo.
His body moulded into a delta shape – arms tight by his sides, legs dead straight behind him – he was like a giant arrowhead plummeting towards the ocean. He remained like that until he got to within fifty feet of Alonzo, at which point he eased his limbs back into a star shape. The drag served to slow him down and stabilise his position.
That done, he turned his head into the snarling slipstream, searching the heavens above for Narov, number five in the stick. She was two hundred feet behind, but catching up fast. One further human-sized arrowhead was strung out behind her, which would be the last man, Hiro Kamishi.
Far above Kamishi he could just make out the ghostly form of BA Flight 987 powering onwards into the darkness, its lights flashing reassuringly. For an instant his mind drifted to the passengers: sleeping; eating; watching movies – blissfully unaware of the small part they had played in the unfolding drama.
A drama that would determine the course of all their lives.
Jumping from 40,000 feet, Jaeger and his team would spend just sixty seconds free-falling. He did a rapid visual check of his altimeter. He needed to keep one eye on their altitude, or they could crash through their parachute release height, with potentially devastating consequences.
At the same time, the assault plan was running through his mind at warp-factor speed. They’d set their jump point some ten kilometres east of the target, out over the open ocean. That way they could drift under their chutes undetected, but were well within range of Plague Island.
Raff was the stick leader, and it was his job to choose the exact spot to land. He’d seek out an area devoid of trees or other obstructions, plus obvious enemy positions. Keeping the stick together was the key priority right now. It would be all but impossible to find someone again if they got lost during the free fall.
Far below him, Jaeger saw the flash of the first canopy unfurling in the darkness.
He stole a quick glance at his altimeter. He needed to deploy his chute. He reached for the rip cord handle located on his chest and pulled. An instant later the spring-loaded pilot chute billowed upwards, dragging with it the main canopy.
Jaeger braced for the violent deceleration as the main chute caught the air, and the deafening roar that would follow. He was looking forward to what would come after – the calm and relative silence of the descent, which would give him time to run through the assault plan once more in his mind.
But nothing happened. Where there should have been the ghostly form of his chute blossoming above him in the darkness, instead there was mostly empty space and something that looked like a bundle of tangled washing raging in the slipstream.
It spun and twisted angrily. Jaeger knew instantly what must have happened. One of the chute’s rigging lines must have got caught up with the main canopy, preventing it from opening.
There was just a chance he might be able to pump the brakes or risers and free the rigging lines. He’d then have a fully or partially inflated chute above him, and maybe he could avoid the need to ‘cut away’ and deploy his reserve.