Edge of Tomorrow (33 page)

“Well, thank you for sharing your concerns
with me,” said Hatch. “Hopefully, I will be in touch.”

“Thank you for listening, Bob. I just hope
you are not a hoax! I’ll feel like an ass!”

“I’m no hoax, sir. Keep the faith!”

Hatch put his phone away and returned to the
dining room and took his seat, his mind churning. All eyes were
upon him.

“What was that about? You seem upset,”
whispered Syd.

“Tell you in a minute. Eddie, could I have
some coffee here, please?” he said.

When Eddie served his coffee, Hatch said,
“Eddie, would you please turn on the TV to CNN for me now.”

Eddie went to the wall and slid a panel back,
revealing a large TV screen. He picked up the remote and turned on
the TV, selecting CNN. The commentator was discussing the
highjacking. Everyone turned and listened to the account being
given by the commentator. After a couple of minutes, Hatch decided
that CNN knew less than he did about what was going on. They
certainly did not know anything about a courier on board.

“We’ve been presented with an opportunity
here, people. That phone call I just had was from the President of
the United States.”

He took a sip of his coffee as they all
absorbed this.

“That aircraft is scheduled to land in Cuba
at half past midnight. The President wants it rescued, but doesn’t
have the means to do it without causing an international incident,
one which would probably sink his Cuba normalization agenda. Sara,
do you think this is a candidate for the procedure you’ve been
developing for rescuing a highjacked aircraft?” asked Hatch.

“It sounds perfect! Even the same type of
aircraft we’ve been practicing on in Arizona. But the timing is too
tight! That team is in Arizona with Shadow-2. They could never get
here in time,” replied Sara. “And Cuba is a little dicey. We have
no support teams there in case of trouble.”

“I know. Smitty, is Shadow-5 tested enough to
fly to Cuba and back?” asked Hatch.

“No problem. I was going to fly it to Arizona
in a couple of days. I haven’t tested firing any weapons, though.
That will be done in Arizona,” drawled Smitty.

“Hopefully, weapons would not be required.
What exactly do we need to highjack those highjackers, Sara?” asked
Hatch.

Sara looked at him a long beat, then said,
“You’re not going to try and wing this are you? This procedure
takes a lot of training. Everything has to be exact—precise.”

“That plane is loaded with innocent people,
and as usual, the President of the United States can’t do anything
about it because of his precious political positions. I thought we
were the best hostage rescue people in the world! Can’t we help
these people?” asked Hatch, fervor in his voice.

“We’ve never done this for real, even with
the team in Arizona, though they’ve trained with a generic Boeing
mockup we have down there,” said Sara. “It’s very similar to the
757.”

“You’ve done the procedure several times with
that team, Sara. Can you tell everyone here how it goes?” asked
Hatch.

“In theory, the steps are fairly simple. The
pilot hovers over the correct point on the aircraft and we open the
hatch on Shadow and use the laser drill to drill a small hole for
our flexible video snake. We take a quick look and try to determine
that no highjacker is wired with explosives with a deadman’s
trigger, or holding a grenade with the pin pulled. We also try and
count the highjackers. This can’t be a real accurate step, but you
make an educated guess as to whether to proceed. There’s no way to
get a look at the cockpit. You just have to wing it.

“If you decide to go for it, we insert the
flexible gas injector into the hole and pump the aircraft full of
the new CX3 gas. This should immobilize everyone on board in about
15 seconds as the A/C spreads it around. We take another look and
make sure everyone is out cold. The next step requires plugging
that hole with a spot weld using the laser welder/cutter tool and
then moving the Shadow to the entry point over the rear
galley.”

She paused and took a sip of coffee.

“Using the laser cutter, you cut a round hole
in just the right spot and send one or two people into the
plane—wearing our newest self-contained HASMAT suits—and neutralize
the highjackers. If they are out cold, as they should be, tie ’em
up and gag ’em. Then you go to the A/C controls and vent outside
air in to clean out the gas. Using one of our special meters, you
can tell when the gas is vented. At this point, what you do next
depends on whether the plane is surrounded by good guys or bad
guys.”

“In this case, it will be Cuban
soldiers—definitely bad guys,” interjected Hatch.

“The best thing in that case is to weld the
hole shut with the laser welder and get the plane the hell out of
there before anyone knows you have control of the aircraft,” said
Sara.

“But the pilots are knocked out, too,” said
Syd.

“That’s right, Syd,” answered Sara. “There
are three options at that point: wait until they wake up, not a
good option; one of the people we put on the plane is able to fly a
757; or we use the fast-acting antidote we have on the 757 pilots
to speed up their recovery.”

“Let’s take this one step at a time and see
what we have. First of all, do we have a laser cutter/welder here
and a CX3 delivery system?” asked Hatch.

“Yes, we do,” answered Smitty.

“Can Smitty do the maneuvers required, Sara?”
asked Hatch.

“Oh, yes! He flew the feasibility flights for
me in Arizona. But that was in daylight. Can you do it in the dark,
Smitty?” asked Sara.

“I’ve got the eyes of a cat, Sara! Besides,
I’ll use the night vision equipment. It should be like a butterfly
landing on your butt,” chortled Smitty.

They all laughed at that.

“OK, we’ve got the equipment and a Shadow
pilot. Who else do we need?” queried Hatch.

“As a minimum, you need people on the Weapons
Stations for the usual reasons—watching the skin status, checking
for radar lock-ons. You need someone to operate the laser equipment
and the mini-crane. And you need someone to go down into the 757,
neutralize the assholes, and get the plane off the ground,” Sara
summed up.

“Smitty, can any of your ground mechanics
operate the laser equipment?” asked Hatch.

“Several of them. The best is Carlos Garcia,
plus he speaks Spanish, which could come in handy. He can also
double as Engineer in case we have some sort of failure.”

Hatch thought for a moment as he sipped his
coffee.

“Sara, do you have a schematic that shows the
exact spots on the 757 to drill the peep hole, and where to cut the
entry hole,” Hatch queried.

“Better than that. I have it in my training
files and can display it on the Shadow’s consoles.”

“Great! Now we need some candidates for
entering the 757.”

“I suggest we use two people, in case there
is trouble once they get on board. Bruno, you could be one,” said
Sara.

“Sounds like fun,” laughed Bruno. “You guys
usually don’t let me go on these fun missions. Do I get to wear one
of those space suits?”

“A must! Otherwise, the CX3 would knock you
out, too!”

“I could go in with Bruno,” said Shirley.

“I was thinking of you for the Defensive
Systems Station, Shirley, and you could switch to Offensive if the
need arises. I was thinking of flying copilot,” said Hatch.

“Syd can operate those systems on Shadow-5 as
well as I can. She’s been training with me for days,” stated
Shirley.

Hatch looked at Syd with a raised
eyebrow.

Syd read his body language and shrugged, “I
was bored, and Shirley asked me to keep her company. I hope I
didn’t break some rule.”

“Syd’s not on the payroll, and besides, she’s
a guest. I can’t ask her to fly another mission. Iran was
different,” said Hatch, still looking at Syd.

“You’re not really serious about this mission
are you, Hatch?” asked Syd. “I thought you were just
‘what-iffing.’”

“If we have all the right pieces, I’m for
giving it a try. If, when we get to Cuba, the environment is all
wrong, I’ll call it off. I would like to rescue those people if I
can, plus there is a very sensitive document on that plane which
the President of the United States wants badly.”

Syd continued to stare into his eyes and saw
that he was dead serious. He was going to Cuba if he could put
together a team. Unfortunately, without her, he was a person
short.

“Then ask me,” she said.

“Ask you what?”

“Ask me to go.”

“I can’t do that again, Syd. This could be
very dangerous!”

“More dangerous than a building blowing up
under us?” she queried.

“No, but …”

“Shirley, can I operate the Shadow-5
systems?” asked Syd.

“As well as I can, Syd,” answered
Shirley.

“That’s settled then. I will be the Weapons
Systems Officer. When do we leave?” asked Syd with a smile.

Hatch wanted to argue with her, but knew it
would be a losing battle. Besides, he really wanted her along, even
though he knew he was putting her in danger again. She had forced
his hand, though, and he did not like that.

“You win, Syd. Let’s say takeoff is 10:30.
Smitty, you can see that the equipment is loaded and Shadow-5 is
pre-flighted. Brief Carlos. Bruno, you and Shirley go get fitted
for the new HASMAT suits. Let’s meet in the library at 2200 for a
final run through,” said Hatch.

As they all got up to leave, Hatch turned to
Syd and said so no one could hear him, “My room. Now!”

• • •

Once they were in Hatch’s room with the door
locked again, Hatch said to Syd, “I don’t like you putting me on
the spot like that, Syd! You shouldn’t be going on this
mission!”

“Oh, pooh! Did I hurt your little ego? I had
great plans for us tonight, and you get a call from the President,
and BINGO! You’re off to Cuba! I’ve been waiting days for you to
get back! So, I’m going with you!” she spat out.

He softened and said, “Syd, I just don’t want
to keep putting you in danger!”

“Hell! Danger is my middle name, remember? If
you’re going into danger, then so am I. I really do know those
systems. If I didn’t, I certainly wouldn’t go and put everyone at
risk.”

She was pacing again, he noticed.

“I certainly didn’t plan this Cuba
thing. I was looking forward to taking you home tonight. Er … what
kind of plans had
you
made
for tonight?” he asked sheepishly.

“Oh, a little drinky-poo in front of the
fireplace, a little smooching. I was even thinking of dusting off
my diaphragm if I thought you were up to it, old man,” she
giggled.

“God, I hate Cuba!” he groaned.

“But you’ll go, and I’ll go with you. I’ll
need a flight suit, boots, and gloves. Can you have someone send
some gear here? I’ll change here, unless you object,” she said
sweetly.

“Oh, no! I’ll call Mrs. C. right now!”

While he was on the phone, Syd wandered to
his small wet bar. There would be no more drinking tonight, so she
got a Pepsi out of his small refrigerator and popped the top.

“Can I get you a cold one?” she asked.

“I’ll share yours. I don’t suppose your
diaphragm is in your purse by any chance?” he leered.

“No, and if it was, we wouldn’t be using it
right now. We have to be ready to go in a little over an hour. When
I finally get you to bed, there is a chance that it could end up
being a one-night-stand. So, just in case, I want to get a whole
night’s worth, not just a quickie. You know, you’re not very
reliable—we haven’t even had our second date yet. You’re always
running off somewhere: Israel, Istanbul, Iran, Langley, Cuba.
Jeez!”

He grabbed her and shut her up with a long,
passionate kiss. A knock came at the door and Eddie handed over
Syd’s flight gear to Hatch. He put it on one of the beds.

“At least we can get you out of these fragile
clothes so I can grope you some more,” he said.

She sat down on the bed and took off her
black, soft leather boots and her knee-high hose. She went to his
closet and got some hangars. She stripped her skirt and blouse off
and hung them up. Hatch could only stare at her as she walked
around in her black silk bra and black silk bikini panties.

“Are you sure about this, Hatch? You’re not
getting laid before we go to Cuba. I’ll get dressed right now if
this is bothering you—me sitting around in my undies,” teased
Syd.

“Don’t you dare! Let me drink in your beauty
for a little longer!”

She wandered to the bed where her flight gear
was. She ran her fingers over the super-soft cloth of the flight
suit. She was suffering from a huge adrenalin rush—not only because
she was walking around in her underwear in front of Hatch, but also
because in a short while she would be airborne in an aircraft right
out of a science fiction book. She would be pulling triple duty:
Defensive and Offensive Weapons Officer, and Medic. Could she
really do this? They would be relying on her more than they did on
the flight into Iran. Also, this procedure they were going to
attempt had never been done before by any of them.

Hatch was having an adrenalin rush of his own
looking at her butt as she leaned over the bed. He walked over to
her and put his arms around her, a hand on each silk-clad breast.
She straightened up and leaned back against him.

“What are you thinking about,” he asked
hoarsely.

“I was wondering what would happen if we lost
the skin while hovering over that airliner, surrounded by Cuban
soldiers,” she answered. “We’re going in an untested bird with an
untrained team to do an impossible task. And—I know what you’re
thinking about! You had a choice: all night with me, or go save a
plane full of innocent people.”