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Flight Level 420
Gulf of Mexico
15 February
0300 Local Time
Kruger was studying the imagery Meeks had sent him when Tuna brought him a bottle of water from the aircraft’s stocked galley. The aircraft was equipped with satellite Wi-Fi that had allowed him to download the secure files Meeks had uploaded to their ghost server shortly before takeoff.
He thanked Tuna without looking up while he studied the high-resolution imagery of the island on his laptop. There were multiple locations the terrorists could be keeping the President and Spectre. It would be tough to narrow it down precisely to get in and out quickly. The island presented multiple tactical challenges that made Kruger appreciate the adversaries they were facing.
“Find anything useful?” Tuna asked as he sat in the executive chair across from Kruger and cracked open a beer. He and Kruger were alone in the forward cabin. Shortly after takeoff, Axe had escaped to one of the pullout couches in the back of the luxury jet to get some sleep.
“Well, if it was me, I’d use this village,” Kruger said, pointing to a row of buildings near the center of the island. “It’s well concealed and has several choke points that can be used in the event of a takedown attempt.”
“How do you think they got to the island?” Tuna asked as he leaned over to look at the laptop screen.
“Boat or plane,” Kruger replied with a shrug. “Maybe even a boat plane. That’s how Pan American Airlines did it back in the 1930s.”
“So, you’re a history buff too now?”
“Wikipedia,” Kruger said, changing screens on his laptop. “I’m just doing my homework on this island. Maybe there’s some significance that we’re missing.”
“The significance is that it’s over a thousand miles from anything,” Tuna answered. “You don’t need Wikipedia for that. It’s isolated and easily defended. The hard part was getting the President’s plane to land there. Once they were on the ground, a small assault force was all they needed.”
“You’re right,” Kruger said. “And it says here that the island has been shut down by Fish and Wildlife Service since late 2013. They only had a few people rotating in and out of the island to provide fire and rescue services and maintain the runway as a divert for airliners crossing the Pacific. Minimal resistance if any at all.”
As the two were discussing the layout of the island, Kruger suddenly received an incoming Skype call. He opened the pop-up window and answered.
“Coolio,” Kruger said as Meeks appeared with his spiked black hair and hipster glasses. “What’s up buddy? You look tired.”
“Hey boss. Yeah, it’s almost time for another Rip-It,” Meeks said as he held up an empty energy drink can. “Whoa, you look different without the beard!” he said as he adjusted his glasses and studied the screen.
“Had no choice. What’s up, buddy?” Kruger asked.
“Right,” Meeks replied. “I’m posting files to the server right now. I managed to grab the imagery from the U-2 mission that flew over about an hour ago. The weather is dog shit over there, but the IR managed to at least narrow down possible locations. I’m also sending you the briefing on Operation Nautilus Spear.”
“They’re moving?” Tuna asked, looking over Kruger’s shoulder.
Meeks nodded. “They’re going to try to find and disarm the nuke. It doesn’t sound like anyone believes the President will make it out alive if they don’t. But please keep this on our secure channel. If anyone finds out I sent it to you, I’ll be going to jail for a long time.”
“You’ve got it, buddy,” Kruger said. “I’ll take a look at this stuff and get back to you. Anything else?”
“Well, there is one more thing,” Meeks said, obviously distracted as he moved over to a nearby secure computer. “But I’m not sure about it yet.”
“What do you have?” Kruger asked.
“The watch is moving,” Meeks said, staring at a nearby screen.
“Moving where?”
“Off the island,” Meeks replied.
“Boat?” Kruger asked.
“I don’t think so,” Meeks said, shaking his head as he watched the screen. “It’s moving northwest at two hundred and fifty knots. Elevation says one hundred feet. Too fast for a boat.”
“Don’t you think you should’ve led with that? C’mon Coolio!”
“Well, I’m still not sure about it,” Meeks replied. “It could be a signal anomaly.”
“Keep an eye on it,” Kruger replied tersely. “I’ll check back with you in a couple of hours.”
“Roger that,” Meeks said as the two ended their video chat.
“You think Spectre is flying them off the island?” Tuna asked. In planning for the assault on the Chinese oil platform in the Gulf of Mexico, Spectre had told them the real story of his fiancée and how she had stolen an F-16 to give to the Chinese in Cuba. He and his friends had launched a rescue mission that eventually led to Spectre flying the F-16 from Cuba to Homestead Air Reserve Base in Florida.
Kruger shrugged. “Flying what? Look at this.” Kruger pulled up the infrared imagery of the island that Meeks had sent him. There was a white-hot outline of the President’s 747. It appeared to be burning. “Certainly not Air Force One.”
“Maybe there was another jet?” Tuna offered.
“You boys doing ok?” Lyons said as he approached behind them. Kruger quickly slammed the laptop shut as he turned to face the billionaire wannabe.
“Just fine, thanks,” Kruger said as he swiveled his chair around to face him. “Thanks again for taking us aboard.”
“Not a problem,” Lyons said as he sat in the chair next to Tuna. “I’m happy to help.”
“I’m not a pilot,” Tuna said. “But shouldn’t you be up front?”
Lyons flashed a smile, revealing his bleached white teeth. It contrasted against his tanning bed-tanned face. “Jenny has it under control,” he replied. “She doesn’t need me.”
Kruger shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He appreciated Lyons graciously offering his jet, but he would have preferred Jenny to have just taken it rather than involve a third party. He didn’t need the playboy billionaire trying to get in their way.
“So, any news?” Lyons asked as he leaned back and crossed his legs. “What’s the latest?”
“Excuse me?” Kruger asked.
“The President,” Lyons said. “Have you guys found the location on the island yet? I’m sure it presents its own tactical challenges being so isolated.”
“I’m sorry,” Kruger said as he held up his hand. “We’re just going to visit a friend in Hawaii. I don’t know anything about the President, but I hope she gets rescued soon.”
Lyons laughed as he studied Kruger.
“It’s awful what those terrorists have done,” Tuna added as he made a slicing motion across his neck with his finger. “I hope they burn for it.”
“Mr. Mack, who do you think I am?” Lyons said as the smile suddenly vanished from his face.
“A very wealthy and successful business man,” Kruger replied. “Who happens to be helping out a couple of veterans in need of a vacation. And we appreciate that.”
“So, Jenny didn’t tell you?” Lyons asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Tell us what, sir?” Kruger asked. Jenny had mentioned nothing about her boss. In fact, she hadn’t mentioned that Lyons would even be joining them, something he definitely intended to address with her when he had a chance.
“Let me guess, you think I’m a trust fund baby that makes YouTube videos and gets run out of Bagram?” Lyons said as his smile returned.
“Look, bub,” Kruger said, leaning forward, “I don’t know what kind of games you’re playing here, but I suggest you get to the point and stop the charade.”
“Fair enough,” Lyons said. He pulled off the black pullover. He was wearing a black t-shirt with his software company’s logo on the chest. He turned his left shoulder toward Kruger and rolled up his sleeve, revealing a small tattoo on his shoulder.
“I’m not who you think I am,” Lyons said as Kruger and Tuna’s eyes widened at the sight of the tattoo. “Does this answer your question?”
“What... the... fuck?” Kruger mumbled.