Lovers and Gamblers (73 page)

She couldn’t believe it was happening to her again. Two years previously she had been working a flight hijacked by three Arab guerillas. The passengers had panicked, and two of them had got shot. The plane had crash-landed in the desert, and there had followed two days of captive hell before they were rescued. The whole incident was a nightmare – the reason she had stopped working for a major airline.

‘Cathy,’ Van was repeating, as if he knew she would be rooted to the spot, ‘please move all the passengers to the back of the plane, see they are strapped in, and sit with them yourself. If you all cooperate, everything will be fine. Under
no circumstances
attempt to take matters into your own hands. I repeat –
under no circumstances
.

Automatically Cathy sprang into action. Remember the rules. Don’t panic. Appear calm and in control. Be reassuring but firm. ‘Come along, everyone,’ she said, ‘let’s make our way to the rear of the plane.’

Bernie and the two journalists were nearest the front. ‘Bring your drinks with you if you want,’ Cathy said. She could do with a drink herself. She took the female journalist by the arm. ‘Come along now.’

Bernie said, ‘Jeesus Cheerist! What the fuck’s happening?’

Cathy managed a wan smile. ‘Think of the publicity, Mr. Suntan.’

‘Who’s hijacking us, for Chrissake? Al will go fuckin’ nuts!’

‘I think it must be the young man who came aboard in the mechanic’s uniform. He seems to be the only one missing – he must be on the flight deck.’

‘Well, let’s rush him, for Chrissakes.’

‘No,’ said Cathy firmly. ‘If the captain says we should take no action, then we must obey him.’

‘The fuck we must!’ Bernie turned as if to head for the front of the plane.

Quickly Cathy blocked his path. ‘Mr. Suntan. We are in an emergency situation. We must obey the captain. To disregard him would be foolish.’

‘Aw – shit,’ grumbled Bernie. But he allowed himself to be herded with the others towards the back of the plane.

Cristina sat rigidly in her seat.

Cathy shook her by the shoulder. ‘Come along, miss,’ she said softly. She could see the girl was in shock. ‘There is nothing to worry about.’

‘He forced me,’ Cristina mumbled, ‘he blackmailed me.’

‘Yes,’ agreed Cathy, ‘come along now.’

Cristina allowed herself to be helped from her seat. ‘Louis isn’t talking to me,’ she said sadly, ‘Louis hates me.’

Paul was already standing in the aisle as Cathy encouraged her small group of passengers towards the back of the plane.

‘What can I do?’ he asked urgently. He knew about the previous experience Cathy had gone through, and considered her an expert on the subject.

She didn’t feel like an expert, but she did know that they all had to do what Van said. ‘Just stay calm,’ she replied, ‘and help everybody else to do the same.’

Evan, already seated at the back of the plane, was startled to suddenly be descended on by a whole group of people. He shut an obscene centrefold quickly and took off the earphones attached to his portable radio – the reason why he had not heard what was going on. Quickly his uncle brought him up to date.

‘Crikey!’ he exclaimed, quite excited by the whole prospect. And he bundled his magazines together and dumped them under his seat.

* * *

‘I’m going to tell you something,’ Al said softly. ‘All my life I’ve been fucking. This is what I call making love.’

‘I know,’ she whispered in reply.

They sprawled across the bed together, naked, exploring each other’s bodies with their eyes, their hands, their fingers.

They had done no more than to stroke, to touch, to marvel. It was enough for the time being. In a way they were both nervous, neither of them wanted to rush things.

‘You do have the most marvellous, beautiful, untouched body I have ever seen,’ Al told her.

‘Untouched?’

‘Yeah. That’s the way I feel about you. Do you know what I mean?’

She nodded. She knew exactly what he meant. It was the first time in her life she had felt like this. So peaceful, and warm, so soft and expectant. Climbing a mountain, slowly, lazily. Stopping to rest every so often. No rush to get to the peak.

* * *

‘What about Al?’ Bernie asked Paul. ‘The shit’ll fly when he finds out.’

‘I don’t think he’s going to find out,’ Paul replied, ‘not until we land anyway. He’s incommunicado. Doors locked. All speakers must be turned off. And you know his bedroom section is completely soundproofed from out here. There is no way we can reach him.’

‘Thank God for small mercies,’ Bernie snorted. ‘But somebody’s balls will get minced when we end up in some asshole communist dump. Cuba probably. How far away are we?’

Paul shrugged. ‘What makes you think Cuba?’

‘Isn’t that where all hijacked planes go?’

‘Cristina.’ Paul leaned in to talk to the girl. They had sat her next to Evan. ‘Do you know where this Nino character plans to take us?’

She was ashen-faced. ‘I don’t know,’ she mumbled.

‘But you were helping him, you
must
know,’ Louis spat.

‘I don’t. I don’t.’ Tears started to trickle silently down her cheeks.

‘Leave her alone,’ said Cathy. ‘Can’t you see she’s in shock.’

‘Look – if she can help us…’ Paul began.

He was interrupted by the crackle of the speaker.

‘I am talking on behalf of my people,’ Nino’s voice announced, ‘the oppressed, the sick, the poor. There are three bombs aboard this plane…’

‘Aw Jesus!’ exclaimed Bernie, ‘we’re dealin’ with a fuckin’ commie psycho.’

‘Three bombs that I can trigger off at any time. The captain has agreed to cooperate with me. I advise you for your well being to do the same. My organization – the P.A.C.P. – People Against Capitalistic Pigs – requires only money. We will land in a safe and secure place, and when the money is paid, you will be released. If you behave, you will not be hurt.’

The speaker shut off.

‘Money,’ muttered Bernie. ‘
We’re
the capitalistic pigs and
they
want the money. Assholes.’

* * *

‘I have to contact flight control,’ Van insisted. ‘I have to get air clearance.’

‘No. You will follow the course I have given you.’

‘But we could be in another plane’s flight path.’

‘It has all been checked beforehand,’ Nino intoned. ‘Just do as I tell you.’

‘Is it an airport you want me to land at?’

‘
I’ll
ask the questions. You follow my instructions.’

‘I have to know. I can’t just land this plane anywhere. We need certain conditions – a proper runway.’

‘You are a first-class pilot. I am sure you will manage.’

‘We’re flying blind without radio contact. You have taken us off the radar path – we’re flying blind.’

‘Follow the instructions I have given you.’

Van glanced in exasperation at Harry, and then turned around to his navigator and flight engineer. They both seemed quite calm. At least he had an experienced crew. But flying without radio contact, on a new flight path, in a strange country, at night, was dodgy to say the least.

‘Can you let the girl go back in the cabin with the others?’ Van asked. Wendy was huddled in a corner quite obviously terrified.

‘She stays with me,’ Nino said sharply. ‘If anyone doesn’t cooperate, she will be the first to get a bullet.’

* * *

Cathy peered anxiously out of the window. They had been flying for quite some time, long past the time they should have landed at São Paulo. Since the two speaker announcements there had been silence. She wondered how Van was coping. He was a good pilot, a professional to his fingertips. He would stay calm, she knew that. She had risked going to the galley and made everyone coffee, and she had brought a couple of bottles of brandy and some packets of biscuits back with her. It was getting cold, and she had pulled down blankets and pillows and told everyone to try and get some sleep.

Van would have been proud of her. She was very together and in control when she could so easily have lapsed into hysteria at the memory of the other time.

She thought about her long-haired musician and wondered what he would do when he heard.

São Paulo must have realized the plane had left its flight path long ago. Perhaps other planes had already been sent out to search for them. After all it was Al King’s plane, with the great superstar himself aboard. And Carlos Baptista’s son was with them, although from what she could make out nobody knew he was aboard. Anyway – a major search would be launched immediately.

It had begun to rain – little driblets of water were trickling down the windows. She hoped she was mistaken, but she thought she heard thunder. She hated flying through storms. A stewardess friend of hers had been killed in a plane struck by lightning.

‘Perhaps I should go up to the flight deck and ask if I can make them all coffee,’ she suggested.

‘I don’t think you should,’ warned Paul. ‘If he has a gun he may be getting jumpy. You busting in could set him off.’

‘You’re right. But I bet they sure could use a cup of coffee.’

* * *

The weather conditions were worsening. What had started out as light rain had turned into a thunderstorm.

As far as Van could ascertain they were flying over the interior of Brazil – probably somewhere over the Amazon, heading in the general direction of Peru. Fortunately they had plenty of fuel, but it wouldn’t last for ever.

‘How soon can we expect to land?’ Van asked. He was getting tired, the sleepless night had not helped.

‘I told you – don’t ask questions,’ Nino replied.

Harry said, ‘Weather conditions ahead are really bad. I suggest you tell us where and when we put this thing down.’

‘Shut up,’ snapped Nino. He had a blinding headache. If they read and studied the instructions he had given them, they would
know
where to land. It puzzled him that they kept on asking questions –
he
didn’t know. The organization had told him it was a disused airport somewhere – it was all in the instructions. When they landed, other members of the organization would be waiting to take over. Nino would be flown out of there, back to Rio, where he had a new name and a new apartment waiting.

‘Just follow the instructions,’ he said grimly.

‘Let’s have the rest of them then,’ snapped the navigator.

‘You’ve got them.’

‘Up to here I have, there must be another page.’ He held up the paper to Nino.

‘I gave you both pages.’

‘Only one.’

‘Both!’ screamed Nino, suddenly panicky. The instructions – written out in navigational terms by a former airline pilot were on two sheets of white paper. He was sure he had handed them both over.

Van and Harry exchanged glances. They sensed a crisis.

‘Look for it, you fool – perhaps you dropped it,’ Nino raged.

‘
You
look for it,’ shouted the navigator, ‘
I
never bloody had it.’

‘Is this some trick?’ screamed Nino, and he pulled out his gun.

At that precise moment the plane hit an air pocket and plummeted several feet. It was enough to throw Nino off balance, enough to precipitate his trigger finger, and the gun went off, the bullet lodging firmly in Van Howard’s right shoulder.

Cody was angered by Bernie Suntan’s phone call. Dallas regrets she will not be able to make the studio until Monday. How on earth had Dallas known that the studio required her? For all she knew, she was still out on her ear. And why had she not picked up a phone and spoken to him herself? Too cowardly, no doubt. Frightened of the major blast she would get from him. And he
was
angry. His anger overshadowed the relief he felt at the fact that she was all right. She
knew
how concerned he must have been. How could she just vanish without so much as a word? He had spent a sleepless night imagining her raped or murdered or something equally horrific. Instead she had been unconcernedly shacked up with Al King. And now she was hopping off for a quick weekend in South America. Lew Margolis would love that. And
he
was the one stuck with telling him.

In fact Lew took the news surprisingly calmly. ‘Oh’ was all he said. A resigned and weary ‘Oh.’

‘She’ll be on the set bright and early Monday morning,’ Cody assured him.

‘Yes,’ replied Lew vaguely.

Cody had expected fireworks. All he got was a damp squib. He was puzzled. Anyway – at least she was back on the series, that was the main thing. He just hoped that she wasn’t going to turn up stoned on Monday morning, she had been in bad shape when she had set off for Palm Springs. He sighed. Well, of course he had known the first time he set eyes on her that it wasn’t going to be an easy ride. But he had expected the traumas and temperaments when she had made it – not on the way there.

Thank God he was emotionally untangled. Getting involved in that way was suicide time. It was good it had been so brief.

Carol had worked as far as restoring his ego was concerned. But she had become too much of a good thing – and he had moved out and taken a short lease on a furnished house on Miller Drive. Nothing spectacular, but it would do to be going on with.

His business was going well. Apart from his English comedy actor signing for a major movie, he had just completed a very lucrative deal for his young stud actor to make a film in England. If things were sorted out with Dallas, and everything seemed to be going smoothly, then he saw no reason why he couldn’t make a quick trip to Europe. He had never been there, it would be an experience.

His secretary came into the office. She was apologetic. ‘Miss Cameron is
insisting
upon speaking to you. This is the fourth time she has called today.’

‘Tell her I’m in a meeting.’

‘I told her that three hours ago.’

‘Tell her it’s a long meeting.’

‘Yes, Mr. Hills. Oh, and your mother called again, said she was waiting for you to call her back.’

He made a wry face. ‘I’ll do that now.’ Big agent or not, you couldn’t keep mother waiting. If he did, she would nag the pants off him, and
that
he didn’t need.