The feet grew closer.
Did the man know where he was? Patrick jammed his hands over his mouth; he was afraid to make a sound.
“You’re lucky I have to be somewhere, or you’d be as dead as your brother,” yelled Lewis. “You had better not say a thing, because if I ever hear that you did, so help me God, I will track you down and put a bullet between your and your mother’s eyes,” snarled Lewis angrily.
No, pleaded Patrick silently.
The feet turned and walked away.
Patrick lay under the bushes, silent, and very afraid. A moment later, the sound of the truck starting startled Patrick. Lying there with his heart still racing, he heard the truck driving away back down the road they had come up earlier.
Patrick waited until he could not hear the truck anymore before warily crawling out from his hiding place, his face covered in dirt and tears. Looking down, he saw that he had soiled himself. As he walked back to where he had last seen his brother, Patrick’s feet felt like they were made of lead. Each footstep was labored and hard. He did not want to see what had happened to his brother. Trancelike, he walked to where they had parked in the open field.
A bloodied shape lay face down in the field. Knowing, but not wanting to believe that it was his brother, Patrick could no longer hide his fear and let out a mournful wail as he dashed over to his brother. Dropping down onto his knees, hesitating, he slowly reached over, grabbed his brother by his shoulders, and pulled the lifeless body into his. Sobbing uncontrollably, Patrick held on tight to his brother. He wondered what had been in the box and why someone would kill to keep it a secret. It was a question that would haunt him for the rest of his life.
2
Like some kind of ancient monstrous creature breaching the waves, the Royal Airship Goliath effortlessly floated up through the thin gray evening clouds. Her skin shone silvery white from the brilliant full moon hanging high in the evening sky. Shadowy and almost spectral, the massive craft left the wispy tendrils of the clouds behind and steadily climbed into the cool dark embrace of the night sky.
The Goliath was the latest and most expensive showpiece vessel of Lord Angus Seaford, a blunt Scottish self-made multimillionaire who had a singular vision that trade throughout the British Empire would one day be by air, not by sea. He envisioned a world where fleets of airships, owned by him, would fly their goods and passengers all across the British Empire, from London to New Delhi, to Cape Town and back again. Trade and control over the seas was what gave Britain an unrivalled empire over which the sun never set. Seaford saw a new realm of the air and he wanted to be the man to control it all. His growing passion (or obsession, some would say) had driven him to take the costly risk of financing the building of the airship out of his own pocket to the unheard-of tune of almost three and a half million pounds sterling.
The craft was the largest ever made in England. It measured over 250 yards long and had a forty-five man crew, all of whom were veterans of the burgeoning airship business. The Goliath was propelled at a steady 100 kilometers an hour by five powerful eight-cylinder diesel engines, each mounting sixteen feet solid oak twin blade propellers. Nestled comfortably within the craft were sixty luxurious passenger cabins and an elegant five-star dining room that served meals easily rivalling any found in Paris or London. Two promenade decks with windows running down both sides of the airship allowed the passengers a view unlike anything anyone had ever seen before. There was even a spacious lounge and an asbestos-lined smoking room where Lord Seaford would entertain guests after the five-course evening meal. As it was in English society of the day, most of the passenger space was on the upper deck with the kitchen, washrooms, and crew accommodation. Much of the inner workings of the craft were located out of sight on the lower deck. The massive airship was steered from the control car located well forward under the lower deck and was only accessible by a ladder that led down from the chart room. Goliath spared nothing for the comfort of its privileged passengers.
Seaford had ensured that all of the major media outlets throughout the country were on hand to cover the maiden launch of Great Britain’s pride, the Goliath, as it took off from Southern England to the cheering adulation of thousands of well-wishers. Revving its powerful engines to full power, the Goliath turned away from her home and effortlessly floated off into the bright summer sky.
Crossing over the channel, accompanied by several intrepid flyers hired by the papers to record the event, the Goliath headed for its first stop in Paris, where Lord Seaford and his amazing airship were the toast of the town. After only one short night’s stay, several new passengers joined the flight. They then flew on to Rome where a crowd of thousands of onlookers raucously cheered as the Goliath moored itself on the outskirts of the city. With an eye on showing the world what could be accomplished from the air, Seaford harried the ship’s captain to continue with their voyage. After only a brief stop to refuel, the Goliath soon continued on her journey and flew south out over the deep, warm blue waters of the Mediterranean Sea. It headed towards its next destination, Nouakchott, the capital of Mauritania, in French West Africa. Their final destination was Cape Town, South Africa. Once there, Seaford had told the press that he intended to hold a news conference and announce to the world his plans for a fleet of airships that would become the new vessels of commerce for the twentieth century and beyond.
Inside the airship’s control cabin, Captain William Wright stood silently; his steely blue eyes watched intently as the duty officer gave an order. Instantly, the ship’s helmsman acknowledged the order, then spun the wheel over to starboard, steering the Goliath southwest towards the small French military airstrip, still many miles distant. Captain Wright was considered by his employer to be a steady and dependable captain, a man who never failed to bring his vessel, cargo, and crew home safely. His blue naval-style uniform looked as crisp and clean as when he had dressed earlier that morning. A stickler for dress and discipline, Captain Wright believed in setting an example for his much younger crew to follow. He was always first on shift in the morning and the last senior officer to leave at night. Reaching over, Wright rested his hand on the side of the wooden cabin; he could feel the powerful rhythmic vibration of the engines. Somewhat superstitious, Captain Wright always felt that it was good luck to touch his craft and feel the almost living power of his vessel before turning over the duties and responsibilities to the night duty officer. A smile crept across his weathered face. It may have been the maiden voyage of the Goliath, but it was Wright’s final duty call as he was planning to retire after an illustrious forty-five year career.
“Mister Young,” said Wright as he looked down at his gold pocket watch and then over at the slender junior officer standing patiently beside him. “It is now midnight, you have the ship. I expect you to wake me should the need arise.”
Lieutenant Young respectfully raised his hand to his cap. “Aye sir, I have the ship,” said the young officer confidently.
Captain Wright patted the young officer on the shoulder and climbed up the ladder into the darkened chart room. Looking about, Wright saw that the room was empty; not that he expected anyone to be there at this hour. Straightening out his tunic before stepping out onto the main passageway that ran like a long metal spine through the body of the airship, Wright looked aft towards the crew quarters. He thought about having a quick walk through to see how the men were doing before turning in for the night. Instead, he decided to make his way up to the passenger deck and the lounge, where he had no doubt that Lord Seaford and several of his equally rich friends would still be up playing cards and drinking the night away. It was none of Wright’s business what his employer did, but he could tell that Seaford was gambling and drinking far more on this flight than any other time that they had travelled together before. Turning, Wright clasped his hands behind his back and started walking down the dimly lit corridor, when the hair went up on the back of his neck…something was wrong. Suddenly, he heard the unmistakable sound of a pistol firing. His blood instantly turned cold in his veins. Who the hell was firing off a gun on board a vessel filled with massive highly flammable hydrogen cells? It was sheer madness.