The Toymaker (13 page)

She worked on her bindings, trying to free her hands. They wouldn’t budge.

The bolt on the wooden door clanked and the door swung open. The smallest man entered with food and drink. He sat in front of her and prepared to feed her.

“Cut loose my hands.” Hunt said. “I am too weak to escape. The bindings are too tight.”

“I can not. My orders are clear.” The man said. “If you do not eat, I am to give you this.” He pulled a syringe from his pocket and held it close to her face.

Feeling defeated, she opened her mouth.

Ten minutes later she had eaten everything the small man brought and drank two full glasses of water. She felt much better.
Maybe the meal wasn’t drugged
.

The small man got up to leave. “Please, cut me loose. I need to go to the bathroom.”

“I will let someone know. My orders are clear. If I free your restraints, they will cut off my hands.” He picked up the tray, turned, and walked out.

Ten minutes later two men entered the room. It was too late. The food had been drugged and she could barely hold up her head.

She felt the flex cuffs being cut free. She tried to move, now was her chance. Maybe her only chance. Her body wouldn’t respond. Then panic overwhelmed her, she felt the men removing her clothes.

Her greatest fear, on the verge of being realized. The men were going to rape her.

Her mind was aware but her body immobile. Whatever they gave her had just about paralyzed her limbs.

They dressed her in a gown as thin as a sheet, and placed her on a cot. Her head resting on a pillow.

She tried again to move. Her legs and arms felt too heavy to lift.

She heard another man enter the room. She felt him lift her gown, exposing her body and knew the moment was coming. She wanted to die. The man’s hand groped at her, pawing at everything that made her a woman. She knew she was in Hell. Then he stopped and pulled the gown over her. When he spoke, she knew who it was—Rotten Teeth.

“Tomorrow we will talk again.” Rotten Teeth said. “If you do not tell me what I want to hear, then you will die. But before you die, I will let you feel a real man inside you. Then I will let each of these men take you as well. And with each one, I will remove a body part, stemming your blood with fire. You will die a very slow and painful death.”

She saw a syringe being inserted in her arm.

Rotten Teeth pushed on the plunger.

Her world went black.

CHAPTER 23

T
HE LAND CRUSIER pulled up to the west end of Yemen's Aden International Airport as the last hint of daylight left the sky. The abandoned hangars were dark. Kaplan could barely make out movement on the ramp.

“I cannot believe I had to make that miserable drive again.” Kaplan said. “They really should work on the roads in this country.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Chase replied. “The road from Sana’a to Aden is one of Yemen’s best. Some of the other so-called highways are nothing but livestock trails.”

“Let’s go check it out.” Kaplan motioned to the shadow on the ramp. “Wiley said the C-130 is about an hour ahead of his Lear.”

Earlier in the afternoon, Kaplan and Chase received a briefing from Fontaine and Wiley. The plan was set in motion, all the arrangements had been made with only two details left unfinished. One minor, one major.

Bentley was only able to secure one aircraft to use to tow the gliders. Oddly enough, the plane had to fly to Aden from Sana’a. Kaplan and Chase were well under way by the time that happened.

A double aero tow, although not commonplace, was still considered safe. It had been years since Kaplan flew a glider, he hoped it was like riding a bicycle and would come back to him.

The major detail left undone was the inability to secure a boat to rendezvous with them in the Red Sea. A detail that should scrub any mission. But Bentley and Wiley were still pushing forward.

Kaplan had been worried about Isabella Hunt. Her fate bothered him more than he first realized. Ever since he learned of her capture, he had a pain in his stomach like he’d been punched.

The Delta team did their part. The recon of the Hajjah Palace and the landscape surrounding it went undetected, all data relayed to Kaplan and Chase, and then to Fontaine via secure satellite uplink. Wiley and Fontaine devised a plan. The final details of which would not be disclosed until Wiley arrived.

Kaplan and Chase arrived at the back of the C-130 aircraft as the crew unloaded the last section of the composite gliders. The cargo bay was lit only with red light, imperceptible more than fifteen feet to the sides of the aircraft.

Within twenty minutes the crew had assembled both gliders and snapped instrumentation harnesses into the cockpits. Kaplan watched in amazement. He and Chase walked over to the two men who stood next to it. In a quiet voice Kaplan said, “You guys look like a pit crew at the Daytona 500.”

“We’ve had plenty of practice,” the shorter of the two said. “Mr. Wiley had us assemble and disassemble these four times this afternoon before loading them. Are either of you Gregg Kaplan?”

“At your service.” Kaplan said.

“Sir. If I may, you’re flying this one here. How about a quick run-down of the sailplane?”

“That would be great, it’s been a while since I flew. I could use a refresher.”

“These sailplanes are Wiley’s special hybrid models. These are the only two. The aircraft are made of lightweight composite. Very tough though, almost indestructible. One of Wiley’s requirements for these aircraft was their structural integrity. They can reach speeds of up to 150 knots—with no ballast. Another feature is they are undetectable on radar. Another one of Wiley’s inventions, the special composite absorbs radar waves so there’s no reflection. Without a visual confirmation, no one knows you’re out there.”

“Black gliders. Don’t know that I’ve ever seen that before.” Chase said.

“Technically, they’re not black. They just look that way in the dark.” The man said. “It’s a very dark gray mixed with an olive drab.”

“Duck blind colors.” Chase interrupted. “Those are the colors most widely used for duck hunting.”

“Better camouflage at night. Even on a full moon, you just can’t see this glider without light. And on a night like this, with a little cloud cover, forget about it.” The man said. “You could fly right down someone’s throat. They could be looking right at you and they wouldn’t see you coming until it was too late.”

“What did you just snap in?” Kaplan asked. “Some sort of portable instrument panel?”

“It’s Wiley’s all-in-one special.” The man pointed to the instruments with a red laser pen. “You got your basic three. Altimeter, airspeed indicator, and heading indicator. You also have this special GPS locator, preprogrammed by Wiley himself. Voice-activated headset here, along with these.” He held up a pair of oversized eyeglasses.

“And those are?” Kaplan asked.

“These are the bomb for night flying. Lightweight. Easy to use. Just flip this switch here.” The man toggled a switch and the eyeglasses lit up pale green. “Night vision made easy. The GPS will line you up, the glasses will make you think it’s high noon. Every landscape detail will be visible.”

“Looks like he’s thought about every phase of the mission.” Kaplan said. “Except one. Who’s going to meet us at the rendezvous point?”

CHAPTER 24

W
ILEY’S BLACK LEARJET lined up its final approach for a landing to the west on Runway 26. Somewhere near on the airfield, Jake knew Kaplan was waiting. The last time they saw each other, they exchanged harsh words. He wondered how Kaplan would react when he saw him.

As the lights from the city of Aden rose to greet him, he tensed in anticipation of landing. The Lear’s tires barked slightly then the Lear taxied off the runway onto the ramp in front of the abandoned hangar, Jake strained his eyes but saw nothing, wondering if the C-130 and Kaplan had arrived. The aircraft slowed, turned around, and then came to a stop. Through the window Jake saw a large shadow looming next to the Lear.
They’re here.

It had only been a few days, but it seemed longer since Jake had last seen Kaplan. So much had happened since he met Wiley. He felt different. He realized his anger was holding him prisoner. It had become his crutch to deal with guilt. He was prepared for the mission, Wiley made sure of that, quizzing him on details for nearly two hours during the long flight from Belgium. He wondered why his anger felt subdued. Was it because of Wiley?

He thought about the last few days. Could it be because of her? Like the moon’s playful reflection dancing on the water, thoughts of Kyli mesmerized him. Every time he looked at Wiley, he thought about her. In one day’s time, her spirit had changed him. He was beginning to realize that he had to let Beth go. He couldn’t change the past. He’d killed the man that had taken her life. O’Rourke had paid his penance. Like Kaplan said, it was time to move on.

“Jake. We’ll talk to Mr. Kaplan, then we’ll mobilize.”

The air stair door lowered and Kaplan climbed onboard the Lear and took an empty seat. Wiley introduced himself.

Kaplan stared at the old man. “Hey, don’t I know—”.

“No.” Wiley interrupted.

Kaplan turned to Jake. “No screw ups this time, Jake. Isabella’s life is at stake.”

“No problem, Gregg. Let’s just get Isabella out of there.”

“You boys shut up and listen. We don’t have time to waste on any issues between the two of you.” They both nodded. “We have less than thirty minutes. Our timing must be dead on or we’re up the proverbial creek. We get one shot at this. Mr. Kaplan, did you get a thorough briefing on the sailplane and its systems?”

“Yes, sir. Your man was very informative and his briefing quite thorough.”

“Are you comfortable flying solo?”

“I think so, sir.” Kaplan said. “I wish I had an opportunity to practice my landings but it’ll come back to me.”

“Who is flying the other glider?” Jake asked.

Wiley ignored him. “Mr. Kaplan, you’re flying the number two aircraft. When the sailplanes release from the aero tow, you’ll release first, then number one will release and drop the towline. All you have to do is follow the leader. Stay right on its flight path or slightly above it. The lead glider will set up the proper approach angle. You just do what it does and go where it goes and you should have no trouble. Understand?”

“Yes sir.” Kaplan sounded confident.

“Who’s flying the lead glider?” Jake interrupted again.

Wiley looked at him, then turned to Kaplan. “A walk in the park it won’t be. There are still a couple of issues getting up to Hajjah, but we’ll handle those on a real-time basis.”

“We?” Jake said. “Are you flying the lead glider?”

“I am.” Wiley said. “I have over a thousand hours flying sailplanes. Do you have a problem with me going along? I did plan this mission by the way.”

“No sir. I’m glad you’re going.” Jake stuttered. “No disrespect, but aren’t you a little—?”

“I hope for your sake you weren’t going to say
‘old’
.”

“Jake’s right, sir. This is a dangerous mission. There could be shooting.” Kaplan said. “We don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“You boys don’t get it.” Wiley said. “That’s exactly why I’m going along. There can be absolutely no shooting. This is silent running. Someone has to keep you two in line. We have a strict timetable. In and out, no screw-ups or we’re all dead.”

† † †

Ian Collins stepped out of his rental car and tossed the keys to the valet. The Renaissance Concourse valet grabbed the keys mid-flight.

“Welcome to the Renaissance.” The valet handed Collins a ticket stub.

“Thank You.” Collins spent many determined hours eliminating his Irish brogue. Other than his size, no other feature about him could stand out. He needed to be just another tall man.

He grabbed the ticket, stuffed it into his back pocket, and headed to his sixth-floor room. Everything had fallen into place. His plan was ready for execution.

People were creatures of habit. Most people never varied their daily patterns. They became predictable.

Old people were the worst. They had routines. Routines they didn’t want to change. Routines that kept them in their comfort zone.

Routines that made them vulnerable, something he was counting on.

Routines that got them killed.

As expected, when he arrived at the mansion earlier in the day, it was empty, the servants sent home for the day. The wealthy owners wouldn’t return home for several hours, which allowed him all the time he needed to rig the incendiary devices. A setup he knew would guarantee results.

Effective, failsafe, and totally untraceable.

How much easier could these old fools have made it for him?

Every night before bedtime, a glass of milk and a handful of old people pills. Then off to bed.

While he was in the home rigging the device, he put the sedative in the milk, enough to make them sleep through an earthquake.

Collins collapsed on the hotel bed. A quick nap, supper at Spondivits, a seafood restaurant three blocks from the hotel, and then a quick drive down I-85.

The assassination was planned with detailed precision, but this time he wasn’t getting paid. No funds secretly deposited in his Cayman account or his Swiss account. No one to notify once the deed was done.

This job was personal.

CHAPTER 25

J
AKE STILL COULDN’T believe Wiley was going on the mission. The man was over seventy and had no business putting himself in harm’s way. The success of the mission was critical and he didn’t need an old man slowing him down. He and Kaplan needed to get in quick, locate and secure Isabella, and get the hell out of there.

But something else was eating away at Jake and he couldn’t put his finger on it. Was it because the old man was Kyli’s grandfather? Or was it something else? Wiley’s take-charge demeanor was both annoying and comforting. The man was smart enough to plan it, even control it from a distance, but was he capable of executing the plan if things went wrong?