Island of the Sequined Love Nun

Island of the Sequined Love Nun Page 23

62

Like Clockwork Spies

Malink found the old cannibal in a small clearing in the jungle, urinating on a young banana tree. "I brought you food." Malink dropped the basket and sat down under a tree. Sarapul seemed to be taking a long time at his task.

"Sometimes it's hard," Malink said.

"Sometimes I can't go at all," Sarapul said. "It hurts." He shuddered and turned around with a grin, smoothing down his thu. "But not today." He sat down next to Malink and reached into the basket for a hunk of fish.

"I heard the music last night," Sarapul said. "The white bitch comes more often now." He offered Malink a piece of fish and the chief took it.

"There are three chosen in only ten days. I think they won't come back sometimes. Vincent says that she is not the Sky Priestess. The pilot said she will kill us."

"Then we must fight."

"Knives against guns? You remember the war."

"I remember. Come." He got up and led Malink through the underbrush to a hollow log. He reached in and pulled out a long bundle wrapped in oiled sharkskin. "A man must take the strength of his enemies. If he cannot eat him and take his strength, he must take his weapon."

Sarapul unwrapped the bundle to reveal a World War II vintage Japanese bolt-action rifle. He had obviously been visiting this spot because the rifle was covered with a thin coat of fish oil and gleamed like new. "I cut off his head and took his gun."

Malink remembered the wrath of the Japanese on his people after the solider disappeared. "You did that? You were the one?"

"It was a long time ago," Sarapul said. He reached into the bundle again and pulled out three shining cartridges. "But I saved these."

"They have machine guns," Malink said.

"She doesn't."

The call came a little after midnight. Tuck had slept since he got to the hotel, stuffing toilet paper in his ears to block out the noise of the television and Sepie talking back to it.

"Take a cab to general aviation at the airport," Jake said. "The hangar you want says Island Adventures on the side. I'll be waiting."

Tuck climbed out of bed and turned off the television.

"Hey," Sepie said. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor about a foot from the screen. Tuck crouched and took her face in his hands. "Tomorrow at six you take the tickets and go downstairs. Tell the man at the desk you want to go to the airport. The bus will take you."

"I know this," she said.

"Just listen. A tall man with long hair will be there."

"Right. Jake," Sepie said. "I know this."

"If he's not there, go to one of the men in the blue hats and tell him you need help getting on your plane. He'll help you. When you get to Houston, go into the airport and call this number. Tell the woman who answers that I told you to call. She'll help you."

"And you will come and get me soon, right?"

"I'll try."

"What about Roberto?"

They hadn't seen the fruit bat since the mascara bombing. "Roberto will be fine. He'll live here, but I have to go." He kissed her on the forehead and before he could pull away she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him on the lips so hard he thought he might have cut his lip.

"You come get me."

"I will."

He stood and went out the door. A few seconds later he heard Sepie call to him from down the hall. "Hey!"

Tuck turned.

"How come you don't try to sex me?"

"I will."

"Okay," she said, and she went back into the room.

Jake was waiting for him at the Island Adventures hangar. A Hughes 500 helicopter with its doors removed sat on a pad by the hangar. "I rented it for an hour. I fuck it up and we owe Mary Jean five grand for the deposit."

Tuck looked at the helicopter sitting on the pad like a huge black dragonfly and he began to get a very bad feeling. "You don't want me to do what I think you want me to do, do you?"

"I'll put the skid right over the hatch. You just step out of one aircraft onto another. No problem. It can't be half as bad as what I had to do to get the hatch left open."

Tuck began to protest, but Jake was already walking to the helicopter. Tuck climbed into the helicopter and slipped on the headset. Jake threw the switches and the turbine began to whine. In a few seconds the blades slowly began to rotate.

Tuck keyed the intercom mike on his headset so Jake could hear him over the blades. "You'll never get past the tower."

"I've done it before," Jake said. "I had to repo a Jet Ranger for a guy once."

"They'll never clear you."

"There's no traffic. Besides, you think they're going to clear you? It's Captain Midnight's rock 'n' roll express from here on out, big guy."

Jake pulled the collective lever by the side of his seat and the helicopter lifted into the air. Within seconds, Tuck heard the tower jabbering over the radio, warning the Hughes 500 to wait for clearance. Jake brought the helicopter up just high enough to clear the top of the hangar and flew in a low wide circle around the airport, then began his own jabber.

"Honolulu Tower, this is Helicopter One, approaching from the west on Runway Two. I have a problem with my tail rotor. Requesting emergency landing."

The tower came back: "Helicopter One, didn't you just take off without clearance?"

"Negative, Tower. I'm in from Maui. Request emergency clearance."

Of course, Tuck thought. Jake flew the circle below the radar and without the running lights. They have no idea whether this is the same helicopter that just took off.

Jake sent the helicopter into a horizontal spin that moved it closer to the planes by the hangars with every rotation, just as it moved Tuck closer to throwing up. Jake stopped the spin for a second and nodded toward a United 747. "That's your baby. Get out of your harness and get ready. They won't know you're there. Get inside and wait two hours before you start your taxi. I don't want them to connect the helicopter with the jet. By the way, how're you going to get your natives on board?"

"They've got ladders," Tuck said. "I hope." Tuck hung his headset behind the seat and unsnapped his harness just as Jake resumed his spin. Tuck grabbed on to the seat to keep from being thrown out the open door. What looked like an out-of-control aircraft was, in fact, a pretty elementary move called a pedal turn. Tuck found no comfort in that knowledge as he watched the tarmac spin below.

Jake pulled the helicopter up just in time to miss the tail of the 747, then leveled it off and crept forward along the length of the huge aircraft. The tail would obscure the view from the tower. "You ready?" he shouted.

Tuck shook his head violently. He could see the line of the hatch he was supposed to go through. He stepped out on the skid. Jake brought the helicopter down and the skid touched the top of the jet. "Now!"

Tuck stepped off onto the plane and ducked instinctively below the blades. He looked back at Jake, shrugged, and shouted, "That was easy."

"I told you," Jake shouted. He pulled the helicopter into the sky and started his spin toward the Island Adventures pad.

Tuck got on his knees, dug his fingers into the seal around the hatch, and pulled it open. He jumped into the dark plane, sealed the hatch behind him, then sat in the pilot's seat and began to study the controls. He clicked on the nav computer and punched in the longitude and latitude for Alualu, which he knew by heart, then pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and put in the coordinates for his second destination. He put on a headset and turned on the radios. The frequency was already set for the Honolulu tower. Jake was receiving the official FAA ass-chewing of the century, but there wasn't a word about anyone dropping to the top of a United jet. He had just taken off the headset to settle down for the wait when he heard a scratching sound outside the escape hatch. He opened it and Roberto plopped inside.

63

No Frills

The Sky Priestess was drunk. She and the Sorcerer had made two million dollars in the last ten days and she couldn't even buy a pair of shoes. The new pilot, Nomura, was a heavily tattooed, taciturn prick who spoke marginal English and looked at her like he'd rape her in a second, not for the pleasure of the violence, but to put her in her place. Since his arrival, even the ninjas had started to get cocky, joking in Japanese and laughing raucously when her back was turned. Even the Shark People seemed to be losing their fear of her. The last time she had appeared to them the children were left in the village. So the Sky Priestess was watching television in a torn T-shirt and some sweatpants and she was drunk.

The intercom beeped and she let it. If it hadn't run on batteries, she would have unplugged it. Instead, she threw it through the french doors, where it beeped the beach for two more minutes, then stopped. The next time she saw it Sebastian was standing in the door holding it like a prosecutor exhibiting a murder weapon to the jury.

"I suppose you think this is funny."

"Not particularly. Now if it had hit you in the head, that would be funny."

"We have an order, Beth. A Kidney."

"Oh, good. I'm in great shape to assist a surgery. Let's do both kidneys. Give the buyer a bonus. What do you say?" She sloshed her tumbler of vodka.

Sebastian picked up the empty Absolut bottle from the end table. "This isn't going to work, Beth. You can't appear as the Sky Priestess like that." He seemed more afraid than angry.

"You are absolutely correct, 'Bastian. The goddess has taken the night off."

Sebastian paced back and forth in front of her, rubbing his chin. "We could stall. We could put you on some oxygen and amphetamines and you could be ready in an hour."

She laughed. "And ruin this buzz? I don't think so. Tell them to find another source for this one."

He shook his head. "I don't think I can do that. Nomura's been on the phone with them. He told them we could deliver in six hours."

She hissed. "Nomura's a fucking grunt. He does what we say. This is our operation."

"I'm not so sure, Beth. I really don't want to tell him no. Please take a shower and make some coffee. I'll be back in a minute with an oxygen cylinder."

"No, 'Bastian," she whined. "I don't want to spend six hours in a plane with that asshole."

"You won't have to, Beth. They've requested that we send him alone this time."

She sat up. "Alone? Who's going to watch him?" Suddenly she felt very sober.

"No one needs to watch him, Beth. He works for them, remember? You were right. We shouldn't have gotten a pilot from them."

An hour and forty minutes after he dropped through the hatch, Tuck started the procedure to power up the 747. He'd never actually flown anything this big - or anything nearly this big - but he had done twenty hours in a simulator in Dallas and only crashed twice. All planes fly the same, he told himself and he started the first engine. Once it had spooled up, he had the power to start the other three. He put on the headset and looked out the side window to make sure he had room to turn the plane and taxi it to the runway. As soon as it started moving, the tower began to chatter, trying first to get him to identify himself, then to stop. Roberto, who was hanging from the straps on the flight officer's seat beside Tuck, barked twice and let loose a high-pitched squeal.

"You're cookin' with gas, buddy," came over the radio. Jake was close enough to see the big jet.

"Where are you, Jake?"

"Out of the way, buddy, but thanks for using my name on the radio. Just thought you ought to know that you're going to need fifty-one hundred feet of runway to get that thing off the ground at your destination - and that's with full flaps, so save your fuel now. You'd better tell them what you're doing unless you've got collision insurance on that thing."

Tuck keyed the mike button on the steering yoke. "Honolulu Tower, this is United Flight One requesting immediate clearance for emergency takeoff on Runway Two."

"There's no such thing as an emergency takeoff," the controller said. Tuck could tell he was close to losing it.

"Well, Tower, I'm taking off on Two, and if you've got anything headed that way, I'd say you've got an emergency on your hands, wouldn't you?"

The tower guy was almost screaming now. "Negative on the clearance! Clearance denied, United jet. Return to the terminal. We have no flight plan for a United Flight One."

"Tower, United Flight One requesting you chill and be a professional about this. Clear to ten thousand. I am starting my takeoff."

"Negative, negative. Identify yourself..."

"This is Captain Roberto T. Fruitbat signing off, Honolulu Tower." Tuck clicked off the radio, pushed the throttles up, and watched the jet exhaust pressure gauges. When they got to 80 percent of maximum thrust, he re-leased the ground brakes and one hundred and seventy thousand pounds of aircraft rolled down the runway and swept into the sky.

At ten thousand feet he began his turn toward Alualu.

The fighters joined him a hundred miles north of Guam. Evidently, they had found out that United did not employ a Captain Fruitbat. One of the F-18 fighters came in close and Tuck waved to him. The pilot signaled for Tuck to put on his headset. Why not?

Tuck assumed they would be broadcasting across a number of frequencies. "Yo, good morning, gents," Tuck said.

"United 747, change your course and land at Guam Airport or we will force you down."

Tuck looked out the window at the sidewinder air to air missiles hanging menacingly under the wings of the fighter. "And how, exactly, do you propose to do that, gentlemen?"

"Repeat, change your course and land in Guam immediately or we will force you down."

"That would be fine," Tuck said. "Go ahead, force me and my hundred and fifteen passengers down." Tuck let off the mike button and turned to Roberto. "Okay, you go in the back and pretend to be a hundred and fifteen people."

As Tuck had calculated, the fighters backed off while they waited for instructions. They were not about to shoot down an American passenger jet without very specific orders, whether it was stolen or not. He believed his biggest advantage was that the FAA and United would insist that no one could steal a 747. That sort of thing just didn't happen. Nice of them to give him an escort, though. He punched some buttons and the nav computer told him he was only half an hour from Alualu. He started his descent.

He checked the position of the fighters and hit the mike button. "This is the UFO calling the F-18s."

"Go ahead, United."

"Are you guys both listening?"

"Go ahead."

Tuck affected a singsong teasing tone: "Neener, neener, neener, you can't get me." Then he locked the microphone in the on position and began singing an off-key version of "Fly Me to the Moon."

Malink, I hope you built those ladders, he thought.

Malink had been awakened early by the Sorcerer's jet taking off and he was on his way to the beach for his morning bowel movement when Vincent appeared to him.

"Morning, squirt," the flyer said.

Malink stopped on the path and fought to catch his breath. "Vincent. I build the ladders."

"You did good, kid. Now get everyone together - and I mean everyone - and tell them to go to the airstrip. Take the ladders. I'm sending a plane for you."

Malink shook his head. "You send cargo?"

Vincent laughed. "No, kid, I'm taking the Shark People to the cargo. You'll need the ladders to get on the plane. Don't be afraid. Just get everyone."

"The Sky Priestess has three who have been chosen. One has just come back to the village."

Vincent looked at his feet. "I'm sorry, kid. You'll have to leave them. Go now. You don't have very long. I'll see you again." And he disappeared.

64

Deliverance

Beth and Sebastian Curtis were cleaning the operating room and sterilizing

instruments when they first heard the jet.

"That sounds low," Sebastian said casually.

Then the fighters, running ahead of the 747, passed over the island.

"What in the hell was that?" Beth said. She dropped a pan of instruments and headed for the door.

"Probably just military exercises, Beth," Sebastian called after her. "It's nothing to be concerned about." He was glad to have help cleaning up and didn't want to lose it. Usually, at this point, she was on the plane heading for Japan.

"'Bastian, come here!" she called. "Something's up!"

Sebastian shoved the last of the surgical draperies into a canvas bag and hurried outside. The sound of jet engines seemed to be everywhere.

Outside he found Beth staring at some coconut palms. The guards were standing outside their quarters, looking in the same direction. "Look." Beth pointed to the north.

"What? I don't see..." Then he saw movement behind the palms and a 747 coming toward the island at entirely too low an angle.

"It's landing," Beth said.

Sebastian's gaze was caught by more movement in his peripheral vision. He looked across the runway. The Shark People were coming out of the jungle. All of the Shark People.

From the 747 the airstrip looked smaller than he had remembered. To conserve runway Tuck wanted to touch down as close to the near end as possible. He pulled full flaps and checked his descent rate. The Shark People were moving toward the plane in a wave. Some of the men carried long ladders.

As all sixteen tires hit the runway, Tuck slammed the levers that reversed the engines and they screamed in protest. Immediately, he hit the ground brakes and watched the brake temperature gauge zoom into the red as the jet screamed toward the ocean at the far end of the runway at a hundred and fifty miles per hour.

"Did you see the ladders?" Roberto said, but this time it was Vincent's voice coming from the bat. "Ya fuckin' mook, I told you they were makin' ladders."

"You must come," Malink said. He crouched at the edge of the jungle where the old cannibal was hiding. "Vincent said all of our people must go."

Sarapul watched as the huge jet slowly turned at the end of the runway. "No. I am too old. This is my home. They don't want me where you are going."

"We don't know where we are going."

"Your people didn't want me here. Would they want me in this new place? I will stay."

Malink looked to the runway. "I have to go now."

Sarapul waved him off with a bony hand. "Go. You go." He turned and walked into the jungle.

Malink ran into the open and began shouting orders to the men with the ladders. The Shark People poured onto the runway and surrounded the jet like termites serving their swollen queen.

Beth Curtis saw the first of the doors on the 747 open and immediately recognized Tuck. A tall ladder was thrown against the plane and the Shark People started climbing.

"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.