Temple of the Gods - Andy McDermott [91]
‘Everything’s in order, sir, ma’am,’ said the first guard, returning their papers. ‘If you’ll put your case on the belt and step into the scanner?’
Nina placed her briefcase on the conveyor, then walked through the arch of a millimetre-wave body scanner. Again, the second guard scrutinised a monitor before giving a nod of approval. Eddie followed her, with the same result. ‘Okay, I’ll let your pilot know that you’re here,’ said the first man, picking up a phone.
‘Thank ya kaahndly,’ said Eddie. Nina wanted to deliver a sharp kick to his ankles to make him stop talking, but since they were being watched could only give a pointed glare.
The guard finished his brief call. ‘Okay, your pilot’ll meet you at the gate in a minute. Have a nice flight.’
‘Thank you,’ said Nina as she and Eddie headed for the exit. As soon as they were out of earshot, she hissed, ‘Will you stop that?’
‘Stop what?’ asked Eddie.
‘Your goddamn John-Wayne-with-brain-damage voice!’
‘I can’t exactly talk normally, can I? Might be a bit of a giveaway that I’m not really a Yank if I’m all “Ay up, by ’eck, look sithee”.’
‘Then don’t talk at all! Honey, you can’t do accents. Just accept it.’
Eddie huffed, but fell silent as they reached the gate and waited, the other two guards watching them. After a few minutes, a middle-aged black man in a civilian pilot’s uniform arrived. ‘Dr Wilde? Captain Tyler?’
‘That’s right,’ said Nina, with another warning glance at Eddie, who limited his answer to a nod.
‘I’m Samuel Abbot – I’ll be flying you today.’ He shook their hands. ‘Okay, if you’ll follow me?’
He led them out on to the parking apron. At this time of year the temperature in Vegas fell far short of the blistering heat of summer, but the combination of the high sun and an unbroken expanse of concrete meant that a wave of hot air rolled over them as they left the air-conditioned terminal building. Eddie tugged at his collar again.
Nina had bigger concerns than personal comfort. She looked around for any signs that their cover had been blown. No security vehicles screamed towards them, no guards raised guns. They had passed the first hurdle.
But there would be more to come.
A Boeing 737 airliner, white with the red stripe of the Janet fleet, was parked nearby, but Abbot took them to a smaller plane in the same livery, a Learjet 35A. Its twin engines were already idling. ‘Private jet,’ said Nina. ‘Nice to get the VIP treatment.’
‘Yeah, but if this goes pear-shaped,’ Eddie reminded her quietly, ‘our next flight’ll be with Con Air.’
The door was open; Abbot showed them inside. The plush six-seater cabin was empty, but Nina saw a co-pilot already in the cockpit. ‘If you’ll take your seats,’ said Abbot, closing the hatch, ‘we’ll get this show on the road.’ He joined the other man up front.
Eddie listened warily to the pilots and their radio communications, but heard nothing that suggested potential danger. He relaxed, slightly. The engine noise rose. ‘Okay, fasten your seatbelts,’ Abbot said over the intercom as the plane began to move. Nina nervously pulled her restraint tight, but Eddie left his belt loose – just in case he needed to make a move in a hurry.
The crew didn’t seem about to turn against them, however. Take-off was swift, the Learjet quickly ascending to ten thousand feet and heading north. A barren landscape of desert and mountains spread out below. ‘Hey,’ said Eddie after a while, indicating something through a window. ‘Guess what that is.’
Nina saw a stark, almost circular expanse of pale sand against the russet-browns of the surrounding terrain. A dry lake bed, she guessed; on its southern edge was what looked like an airfield, a long runway stretching