“He’s taking them away!” she screamed.
Sebastian Curtis stood stupefied.
Beth shouted to the guards, “Stop them, you idiots!”
The guards had been spellbound by the landing of the jet as well, but her harpylike scream brought them to action. They were in and out of their quarters in seconds, running toward the airstrip with their Uzis. Beth Curtis ran behind them, screeching like a tortured siren.
All six doors of the 747 were open now, and the Shark People were streaming up the ladders, mothers carrying children, the strongest men helping the old.
The other guards piled up behind Mato while he unlocked the gate. He fumbled with the key, then finally sent it home and pulled the chain from around the bars.
Beth Curtis hit the chain-link and curled her fingers though it like claws as she watched her fortune piling into the plane. “Shoot!” she screamed. “Shoot that son of a bitch!”
The guards had no idea who she meant, but they understood the command to shoot. The first one through the gate pulled up and pointed his Uzi at the crowd of natives waiting to get up the ladder. There was a fat one who seemed to be giving orders. He aimed for the center of his back.
A bullet took the guard high in the chest, knocking him back off his feet. His Uzi clattered on the runway. The other guards pulled up, looking for the source of the shot..
“Kill them all, you fucking cowards!” Beth Curtis yelled. “Shoot!”
The guards crouched to make themselves into smaller targets as they scanned the edge of the jungle for movement.
There was a roar and the guards looked up to see two fighter jets coming in low over the runway. Their decision was made. They ran for the cover of the compound as Beth Curtis screamed at their backs.
She ran out to the dead guard, picked up his Uzi, and pointed it at the
747. A gunshot came from the jungle and a bullet ricocheted off the concrete next to her. She turned the Uzi toward the trees and pulled the trigger. It roared for three seconds, the recoil pulling her sideways as the bullets chopped a pattern in the vegetation like a remotecontrol Cuisinart. She brought the gun back around on the plane and pulled the trigger, but the clip was empty.
She threw the gun to the ground and stood shaking as the last of the ladders was thrown away from the plane and the doors were pulled shut.
65
Down to the Promised Land
Malink joined Tuck on the flight deck and tried to work the flight officer’s harness around his belly as Tuck released the ground brakes and the jet started rolling. The two fighters did another pass overhead, one of the pilots warning Tuck not to attempt to take off.
“You forced me down,” Tuck said into the headset mike. “What more do you guys want?”
He rammed the throttles to maximum. They either had enough runway or they didn’t. What was certain was that he wouldn’t know in time to stop. They were going into the ocean or into the sky and that was that.
The flaps were down for maximum lift, which would use three times as much fuel as a regular takeoff, but that was a problem to deal with once they were in the air. He looked at the ocean ahead, then at the airspeed indicator, then at the ocean ahead—back and forth, waiting, waiting, waiting for the airspeed indicator to reach the point where the plane would lift. He was twenty knots short of takeoff speed when the end of the runway disappeared from view and he started his pull up.
The rear wheels of the great plane grazed the water as it lifted into the air. Tuck heard what he hoped was a cheer coming from the back of the plane, but there was a distinct possibility that he was hearing collective screams of terror. He had just lifted off with three hundred and thirty-two people who had never flown before. Tuck thought of Sepie, who would have started her first plane ride two hours ago.
“Where are we going?” Malink asked.
He was trying to compose himself, but when Tuck looked at him, he saw that the old chief’s eyes were as wide as saucers.
“A place called Costa Rica,” Tuck said. “You ever heard of it?”
Malink shook his head. “Vincent tells you to take us there.”
“No, it was my idea, actually.”
“There is plenty cargo on Costa Rica?”
Couldn’t say, Malink, but the climate is nice and there’s no extradition.”
“That is good?” Malink said, as if he had the slightest idea what extradition was.
Tuck admired the old chief. He was here because his god told him to be here. He had just made a decision that would change the history of an entire population, and he had done it on faith.
Tuck set the autopilot and crawled out of the pilot’s seat. “I’m going back to make sure everyone is strapped in. Don’t touch anything.”
Malink’s eyes went wide again. “Who is flying the plane?”
Tuck winked. “I think you know.” He turned and headed down the steps to check on his passengers.
Pushed to his limit and no little bit frightened, Sebastian Curtis sneaked up on his wife, who was in full tantrum, and injected her in the thigh with a syringe full of Valium. She turned and gave him a good shot to the jaw before she started to calm down. He caught her by the shoulders and backed her into the office chair in front of the computer.
“Don’t worry,” he said, “Nomura is on his way back with the Lear. We’ll be long gone before anyone can get here.”
“How did he do it?” Beth’s voice was weak now, trailing off at the end.
“I don’t know. I’m surprised he’s even alive. We’ll be fine. We have plenty of money. Not as much as we’d hoped, but if we’re careful…”
“He turned them against me,” she said. “My people…” She didn’t finish.
Sebastian stroked her hair. The clinic door opened and Mato came inside carrying his Uzi. “Phone,” he said.
“No,” Sebastian said. “I’ve already called Japan. The Lear is on its way. Now give us some privacy.”
Mato threw the bolt on the Uzi and said something in Japanese. Sebastian didn’t move. Mato dug the barrel of the gun into the doctor’s ribs. “Phone,” he said.
Sebastian picked up the receiver that was connected to the satellite and handed it over.
“Out,” Mato said.
Sebastian helped Beth to her feet. “Come on. We have to do as he says.”
Beth let him lift her to her feet, then she pointed a finger at Mato. “You can kiss your Christmas bonus good-bye, ninja boy. That’s it.”
Sebastian dragged her through the door and helped her across the com-pound to her bungalow. Inside he lay her on the bed. Getting her out of the surgical greens was like trying to undress a rag doll. She babbled inco-herently the whole time, but did not fight him. When he turned to leave the room, two of the guards were standing in the doorway grinning. One of them motioned for him to leave the room. The other stared hungrily at Beth.
“No,” Sebastian said. He stepped into the doorway and pushed aside the barrels of their weapons. They stepped back in unison and raised the Uzis. Sebastian stepped toward them. They took another step back. He was a full foot taller than either of them.
“Get out,” he said and he took another step. They stepped back. “Out. Get out. Or do you want to lose all your fingers?” He’d found the magic words. The people they worked for were notorious for taking the finger joints of those who disobeyed. The guards looked at each other, then backed out the door that led into the compound. One of them hurled a curse in Japanese as he went. Behind them Sebastian saw Mato coming out of the clinic. He marched right for Beth’s bungalow, almost stomping the ground as he walked, his jaw clenched and his weapon held before him. Sebastian closed the door, locked it, and ran to the bedroom.
“Come on, Beth. Get up. We’ve got to get out of here.” She was still conscious, but had no coordination. He picked her up and threw her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, then went out the french doors onto the lanai and down the steps to the beach.