About to Publish - Excerpt - The 757
20/01/18 05:30
Hello from Spy Story Land!
The second novel in The Castle of Spies eBook (and paperback) series is getting a lot closer to it's release on Amazon and iTunes. Writing on the story concluded on Christmas morning. Now it's editing time and new eBook cover design time. The plan for now is to put Castle in the Mountains on-line sometime around March 1st. Until there, here is another excerpt from the book. Léa and Tara are in a training simulation back at The Castle. There might possibly be one more excerpt before final publication, so stay tuned to the twitter/facebook pages for publication updates and the last excerpt.
First, a few quick disclaimers … for newcomers, you should know that one of the characters is very fond of the 'f' word. So if words offend you, turn back now. Second, I normally have music playing while I'm writing. You'll see a "playlist" entry just before the story starts. The entire playlist can be found on this writer's blog just below this entry. Third, the following is an excerpt from the upcoming novel: Castle in the Mountains, part of The Castle of Spies eBook series. All rights are reserved.
The 757
PLAYLIST:
“From Zero to Galactic Hero” - Other Worlds - Really Slow Motion & Instrumental Core
~ ~ ~
Running down a steep hill is not a good idea.
Running down a steep hill at full speed is less of a good idea. It’s an even worse idea when you’re carrying about twenty pounds of tactical gear.
Léa and Tara’s mad dash down the hill was even more treacherous because the hill was made up of loose gravel. Every few steps, there was another stick of wood, another hunk of concrete or another big rock in just the right spot to trip someone running down the hill.
After scoping out the situation, Léa and Tara decided there simply was no way to sneak down to the airport terminal unobserved. The best thing to do was get down the hill as fast as they could, then find cover by the airport’s main door. The side of the hill was littered with debris they’d have to dodge, but that could be a good thing. Weaving around the sticks, rocks and pipes would probably help them avoid snipers.
As she ran, Tara quickly glanced to her right. Léa was running along side, but Tara knew her best friend could easily run down the hill a lot faster. The best friends had a lot in common, but they were clearly not sisters. Tara was short and skinny. Léa was taller and a lot stronger.
What Tara didn’t have in physical strength, she more than made up for with determination and intelligence. Along with a deep, lifelong emotion bond, Léa and Tara were kindred spirits because they had more brain power than anyone they’d ever met. Sometimes being the smartest kid in class is great. But sometimes it’s not easy at all. Luckily for Léa and Tara, it was easy because the best friends had each other.
Suddenly, Tara felt something tug at her left boot. She felt herself beginning to fall. Tara glanced down and saw the ground was coming up fast. Rocks, sticks and gravel were getting nearer and nearer to her face. In a spit second, Tara knew she was falling and about to do a massive face plant into the gravel. In that split second, Tara knew she had to act fast.
Léa sensed that something was wrong. She looked to her left just as Tara tucked her chin down to her chest, hunched her shoulders and rolled onto the ground. As momentum carrier her forward, Tara was back on her feet, running alongside Léa.
“You okay?” Léa huffed.
“Yeah. Fine,” Tara huffed back.
“Nice move,” huffed Léa.
She stole another glance at her best friend as the small, half smile appeared on one side of Tara’s mouth. Before Léa turned her attention back to running down the hill, she glanced at Tara’s shoulder. The bandage was gone and blood oozed down Tara’s arm.
Then the hill abruptly ended and Léa and Tara were running across a small parking lot. There were junked cars to dodge and a few deep potholes too. Running between the cars, Léa and Tara saw the front end of a small yellow VW Bug sticking up out of the ground. And it was coming up fast.
“Split up,” huffed Tara.
After running around the sunken VW Bug, Léa and Tara hopped the curb and ended up on either side of the main terminal entrance. With their backs to the brick wall, it only took Léa a few moments to recover her breath after the high speed run down the hill and across the parking lot. Tara huffed a few more times before she looked at Léa and nodded.
“So far, so good,” said Léa.
“So far,” agreed Tara.
As they stood with their backs to the airport brick wall, Léa tilted her head to one side and listened. Whoever designed the terminal had an eye and an ear for detail.
“The white zone is for immediate loading and unloading of passengers only. There is no stopping in the red zone,” said a male announcer.
The same message was repeated by a female announcer. Then the male announcer. Then the female announcer. Suddenly, Tara let out a single half snort, half laugh. Léa looked at her best friend. Tara hardly ever laughed.
“What’s so funny?” asked Léa.
Tara’s half smile remained on her face as she shook her head and closed her eyes.
“Wait for it,” said Tara.
The announcements continued a few more times. Léa didn’t hear anything different. Then the message completely changed.
“Listen Betty, don't start up with your white zone shit again,” said the male announcer.
Tara laughed out loud again. Léa smiled. It was rare to see Tara actually laughing.
“I’ve heard that before,” said Léa.
“It’s from the movie Airplane,” laughed Tara.
“Thomas Austin is having way too much fun,” smiled Léa.
Suddenly, Tara stopped laughing. The smile disappeared from her face. Léa gripped her gun tighter as she saw Tara’s expression completely change.
“What?” said Léa quietly.
“Shit doesn’t happen around here without a reason,” said Tara.
“So that’s not just there for fun?” said Léa nodding to the speakers.
“Right,” said Tara.
“But they like to have fun around here,” said Léa.
“There’s a time for fun and there’s a time for serious shit,” said Tara.
Léa surveyed the scene before her. She saw the burning cars, the debris scattered around the front of the terminal, the bullet holes in the wall. Then she looked at Tara’s bloody shoulder. She nodded to the speaker that was still broadcasting the loading zone messages.
“He’s not having fun at all. That’s a distraction. He’s messing with us,” said Léa.
“Giving us a false sense of security,” added Tara.
Léa looked forward, her eyes stopping on the yellow VW bug sticking out of the ground. Someone even thought to put a cute, customized license plate on the wrecked car. Léa looked back at Tara’s bloody shoulder. She nodded a few times, then looked straight ahead.
“Worked on me,” she said.
“Me too,” said Tara.
Léa started to say something, but Tara cut her off.
“Let’s get through this thing. We can analyze the lessons we need to learn later,” said Tara.
Léa cleared the cobwebs, looked at Tara and nodded.
“Ready?” said Tara.
“Set,” Léa nodded.
“Go,” said Tara.
In a split second, Léa and Tara turned, took two steps sideways and stood shoulder to shoulder as the glass doors to the terminal slid open. With their guns pointing directly ahead, they took four steps forward and two steps to each side. Within seconds, they were standing with their backs against the exact opposite side of the brick wall.
The inside of the terminal was absolute chaos. Small fires were burning. Waiting room chairs were upside down and scattered around the floor. Computer terminals were shattered. Every so often, a small explosion erupted on a wall or counter simulating gunfire. Léa looked at Tara’s bloody shoulder.
“Those may be fake bullets, but we shouldn’t be fooled,” she said.
Tara looked down at her shoulder, then up at Léa. She could tell Léa was feeling guilty about calling the coast clear back at the entrance to the street. Tara rotated her shoulder a few times. It oozed a little more blood, but Tara smiled.
“It’s just a scratch. Doesn’t even hurt,” she said.
Léa nodded, then looked straight ahead. She scanned the lobby, looking for a way up to the departure gates. The signs were in multiple languages, just like at any real international airport. Looking to her right, Léa finally found the sign she was looking for.
“I think we’re going that way,” she said pointing with her gun.
“Let’s get going,” said Tara.
Walking side by side, they slowly made their way around the broken chairs, fires and trash that littered the simulated airport lobby. Whoever constructed the airport and roadway did an amazing job. Every so often, Léa had to remind herself she was deep in the cliffs under the haunted castle north of her hometown.
As they turned the corner, they saw a long flight of stairs that followed the wall, then turn to the left. A sign above the stairway said: To All Planes.
The airports’ security checkpoint stood between the stairs and Léa and Tara. There was a metal detector and a carry-on scanner. Aside from several piles of burning trash, it was almost like a real security area. Almost. The big difference was the absence of all the security people.
“This will be the first time I’ve ever gone through security and not had to wait an hour,” groused Tara.
“I guess I can leave my laptop in my backpack this time,” said Léa.
“I am not taking off my fucking shoes,” quipped Tara.
Léa smiled as Tara started walking through the metal detector. As she stepped through, alarm bells sounded. Startled, Tara jumped away from the metal detector and almost tripped over some grey security scanner trays. Léa let out a a long, loud laugh.
“Fuck me,” said Tara.
“Nothing wrong with your cat-like reflexes,” snickered Léa.
Tara eyed the metal detector as Léa walked through. The bells sounded once more. Léa patted the small gun holstered under her arm and smiled up at Tara. But Tara wasn’t smiling.
“Whoever put this place together is a real fucking comedian,” she groused.
“That’s your pal Thomas Austin,” smiled Léa.
“He’s not my pal,” said Tara.
Léa nodded in the direction of the stairs.
“Ready?” she asked.
“Lead on,” said Tara.
As they took off, Tara glanced over her shoulder back at the metal detector.
“Fucking comedian,” said hissed under her breath.
Walking up the stairs, Léa and Tara had to dodge more derbies and a few more fires. As they walked past one fire, Léa paused to examine it more closely. What appeared to be a pile of burning trash was really a ceramic model with several small jets of flames.
“Propane,” sniffed Léa.
“Pretty realistic,” agreed Tara.
“More special effects from Thomas?” Léa speculated.
“He’s a fucking genius at dreaming up amazing shit,” said Tara.
“Was he in on your little show back at Deep in the Cliffs?” asked Léa.
When Tara didn’t say anything, Léa looked over her shoulder. She saw the ever so slight smile appear on the corner of her best friends mouth.
“I’ll never tell,” said Tara.
“Yeah, I think your cover is blown on that one,” smiled Léa.
Léa got to the top of the stairs first. Tara was a step or two behind her. Standing shoulder to shoulder, Léa and Tara scanned the passenger boarding area. Only a few overhead lights worked. It was dark with lots of shadows. Most of the light came from the propane fires burning around them.
Without saying a word, they started walking toward an open door that lead to the jetway. As they got closer to the door, small explosions from bullets began erupting on the opposite wall. Someone must be in the Jetway shooting.
Léa and Tara moved closer to the wall away from the bullet hits. After a few more steps, the brick wall ended and was replaced by shattered glass windows. Looking to their right, they saw a full sized Boeing 757 parked at the gate. A small baggage truck burned near the right wing. As they looked over the jet, Léa and Tara noticed shadows moving behind the passenger windows. They watched the scene before them for a few minutes.
“I think I counted four different shadows moving around,” said Léa.
“I don’t see anyone on the tarmac,” said Tara.
“Let’s check the Jetway,” said Léa.
As they stepped out from behind the brick wall, a wave of heat from the fires burning near the airplane blew into the terminal. A few more bullet holes appeared on the opposite wall. Léa and Tara immediately dove for the floor.
“Think those are real?” asked Léa.
“Don’t know, don’t care,” said Tara.
With her gun cradled in her arms, Tara began inching across the floor toward the door to the Jetway. Léa followed closely behind. More small explosions from bullets erupted on the terminal wall. Suddenly, a larger explosion, strong enough to shake the terminal, blew flames and debris over Léa and Tara. They crouched lower to the ground, but kept moving toward the door.
“Hang back,” said Tara over her shoulder.
She looked down and closed her eyes for a second, then looked up and peered around the corner and down the Jetway. A few more simulated bullets exploded on the opposite wall. But Tara didn’t see anyone shooting.
“No one in the Jetway,” said Tara over her shoulder.
Léa inched up beside Tara and quickly poked her head around the corner. Then, staying very close to the ground, she inched past Tara to the other side of the door. Shuffling around so she faced Tara, Léa peered around the Jetway door again, then looked out the shattered glass window down at the airplane.
Several fires burned around the airplane. Baggage was scattered near one of the cargo doors. A truck with a silver tank was overturned near the right wing of the airplane. A pool of nasty looking, blue liquid had spread out around the truck. Léa made a mental note to avoid that area at all costs. She looked back at Tara.
“We need to steer clear of the right wing of the airplane,” she said.
“Why?” asked Tara.
“The airplane bathroom truck rolled and spilled,” said Léa.
“No shit?” smiled Tara.
“A lot of shit, actually,” smiled Léa.
Tara’s half smile briefly appeared as she looked at her best friend. But her smile quickly disappeared as more gunshots appeared to come from the Jetway. Tara stole another glance around the corner.
“I can’t see anyone in the Jetway, but I think we need to figure out another way onto the plane,” said Tara.
Léa peeked around the corner down the Jetway. Looking back outside the window at the airplane, Léa agreed that going down the Jetway wasn’t a good idea. Looking at the tarmac, she saw the path seemed fairly clear. But a Boeing 757 sits fairly high off the ground making getting aboard the aircraft nearly impossible. Then Léa looked up at the Jetway.
“How about up there?” she said.
Tara looked down the Jetway, the out the shattered glass window at the left wing of the big jet. Looking up at the Jetway, she saw the path to the plane appeared to be completely clear.
“Looks good,” she said.
Placing her gun on the floor in front of her, Léa did a quick pushup. She kept her upward motion going as she kicked her feet forward bringing her knees to her chest. She only paused a moment, looking around to make sure she was clear to stand. In the next second, Léa pushed her hands off the floor, grabbed her gun and was standing with her back to the wall by the door.
“Your turn,” she said looking down at Tara.
As Tara stood, Léa clipped the rifle to her tactical vest. Reaching into the thigh pocket in her tactical pants, Léa pulled out a tightly coiled black rope. Reaching behind her, Léa pulled a heavy metal hook from a pocket attached to her belt.
“I hate climbing up ropes,” said Tara.
Léa looked over as Tara attached the heavy metal hook to her own rope. She was flexing her hands and fingers as she uncoiled the rope. Tara was also breathing deeply, building up oxygen in her blood.
“It’s not that far up,” said Léa.
With her back to the wall, Tara looked out the shattered window and up to the top of the Jetway.
“I’ll make it,” she said.
Once the ropes were uncoiled, Tara took a few more deep breaths, adjusted the half finger gloves she was wearing and looked at Léa. They nodded at the same time, turned and tossed their ropes. Both hooks caught the top of the Jetway and Léa and Tara were out the window and at the top of the jetway within seconds. Crouching close to the top of the Jetway, they surveyed the scene around them.
“No one seems to be shooting at us,” observed Tara.
“For now,” said Léa.
As they looked down the Jetway, Léa and Tara were carefully coiling up their ropes. Léa looked over the edge. Her eyes grew in size as she realized how high up they were. She closed her eyes as her head snapped slightly from side to side.
Tara caught Léa clearing the cobwebs and the small, half smile briefly appeared. She’d watched her best friend’s personality tic for years. It was just one of the things that made Léa uniquely Léa. There was no one else like her and Tara found that comforting.
“What?” said Tara warmly.
Léa looked over at her best friend and realized Tara had once again caught her clearing the cobwebs. Most people found Léa’s many personality tics annoying. But Léa knew her cobweb clearing tic was something Tara actually appreciated.
“Long way down,” said Léa.
Tara looked over the side of the Jetway. It really was a long way down. Looking down the Jetway, Tara saw the rain shroud was pressed firmly against the big jet.
“How are we going to get into the airplane?” she asked.
“One of the pilot’s windshields has been punched out. We can get in there,” said Léa.
“We’ll only need one of the ropes to crawl down,” said Tara.
She removed the heavy metal hook, stuffed it back in it’s belt pocket and began carefully coiling up her rope. Léa removed her rope hook and put it away too. Unlike the spies in the movies, they learned it was best not to leave equipment behind. You never knew when you might need it again.
Léa stuffed her coiled rope under one of her tactial belt’s suspenders, unclipped her gun and shuffled her feet. Tara unclipped her gun, then looked at Léa.
“Ready?” said Tara.
“Set,” said Léa.
“Go,” said Tara.
Running side by side, Lea and Tara quickly made it down the top of the Jetway and onto the top of the jetliner. Once on slightly curved top of the airplane, they crouched low in case anyone decided to start shooting. Tara kept watch as Léa pulled the rope from under her suspenders, loped it over one of the jet’s antennas and threw the ends over the nose.
“Think that’s strong enough to hold us?” asked Tara.
Léa nudged the antenna and gave the rope a firm tug.
“Looks like it,” she said.
“Off you go, I’ll cover you up here,” said Tara.
Léa gave the ropes another firm tug, then started inching toward the front of the airplane. As the fuselage began dropping toward the nose, Léa swung her boots around.
“Good thing these boots have rubber soles,” she said.
Tara looked back as Léa began to disappear down the nose of the plane. She was careful to stay in the middle of the airplane so she wouldn’t slip off the side. Léa inched forward and down until her boots touched the edge of the shot out windshield.
“Careful around the window,” said Tara.
Léa looked up and smiled as she lowered herself into the cockpit. Just before she crawled through the window, Tara noticed a look of pain suddenly appear in Léa eyes. But before Tara could ask, Léa disappeared into the big jet. A second later, Tara saw the rope bounce twice.
“Your turn,” said Léa from insde the airplane.
Tara quickly clipped her gun to her vest, picked up the rope and started inching forward. As she swung her legs over the front of the airplane, her feet quickly found the edge of the shattered windshield. Gripping the ropes tightly, she inched into the cockpit.
Cockpit windows are the biggest windows in a jetliner, but it was still a tight fit for Tara. She wiggled over the dashboard, then rolled on to her back just before neatly sliding into the pilot’s seat.
The control panel in front of her was a mass of broken glass, tangled wires and red flashing lights. The air was thick with electrical smoke. Tara looked at the overhead panel and saw the jet’s auxiliary power unit appeared to be running. She tapped a few gauges, then pressed a button labeled recirculating fans and the smoke quickly cleared.
“I didn’t know you spoke airplane,” said Léa behind her.
“There are several classes on airplanes in Spy School,” said Tara over her shoulder.
She tapped a few more gauges on the upper panel, then spun two dials. A few seconds later, cooler air began blowing through the vents in the cockpit. As she pressed a few more buttons, the lights flickered, then got brighter.
“Any chance you can fire this thing up and fly us to our hotel pool on Mykonos?” asked Léa.
Tara pointed to a small digital readout in the center of the upper panel.
“Afraid not. We don’t have much fuel,” said Tara.
“Plus there’s the minor detail of several tons of rock, a castle and a small pub between us and the sky,” said Léa.
Mentioning the pub brought the slight, half smile to back to Tara’s face. But it quickly disappeared as Tara turned to look at Léa.
“Fuck! What happened to you?” exclaimed Tara.
Léa was leaning against the door to the cockpit. One hand was tightly gripping her shoulder. Dark, red blood was flowing between her fingers.
“It’s nothing. I got a little too close to the broken glass when I was crawling through the window,” she said.
Tara practically jumped out of the pilot’s seat. After taking a quick look at Léa’s shoulder, she reached into the thigh pocket of her black tactical pants and pulled out the small first aid kit. Léa looked at her best friend as Tara went to work cleaning out the deep cut. Lines of tense concern appeared around Tara’s eyes and mouth.
“It’s just a cut. I’ll be fine,” said Léa.
Tara continued gently cleaning out the cut. The flow of blood had slowed. But there were still a few chunks of glass Tara was trying to dig out. She put the first aid kit in Léa’s good hand.
“Hold this,” said Tara.
She sorted through a few of the bandages and wipes until she found some small tweezers. After wiping the tweezers off, Tara examined the cut closer. After taking a deep breath, she gently pushed the tweezers into Léa’s shoulder. Tara tried to be careful, but she could tell she was hurting Léa.
“Sorry,” said Tara.
“At least now we match,” said Léa.
“Match?” asked Tara.
“Our shoulders,” smiled Léa.
“Huh?” said Tara.
She was concentrating on digging the last hunk of glass out of Léa’s shoulder. It was wedged in deep, but Tara eventually wiggled it free. A fresh river of blood started flowing from Léa’s shoulder as Tara dropped the glass on the floor.
“Gimme that,” said Tara.
Léa held the first aid kit just out of Tara’s reach.
“Gimme that, please,” smiled Léa.
Tara closed her eyes. Even though she was sadly shaking her head from side to side, the small half smile appeared on her face. She could always count on Léa to lighten the mood.
“So what’s this about us matching?” asked Tara.
“We’re both going to have matching shoulder scars,” said Léa proudly.
Tara looked down at her own shoulder, then over at Léa’s shoulder. Both shoulders were still bleeding. Tara pulled two square bandages out of her thigh pocket. Ripping it open, she gently covered Léa’s shoulder.
“Gimme that,” repeated Tara.
Before Léa could admonish Tara for forgetting the ‘p’ word, Tara quickly said it.
“That’s better,” said Léa as she handed Tara the first aid kit.
With matching bandages on their shoulders, Léa and Tara unslung their tactical rifles and looked over the cockpit door. They stood on either side of the narrow door. After taking a few deep breaths, they nodded to each other. Léa reached out and gently turned the knob. The door easily swung open.
But Léa and Tara didn’t immediately look around corner to check out the cabin. Without moving a muscle, they kept their backs flat agains the cockpit bulkhead, waiting.
When nothing happened for a few minutes, Tara and Léa looked at each other. At the same time, they both turned to face each other, then dropped down on one knee. Tara reached into a small pocket and pulled out a small mirror. It was lined with heavy, black plastic.
After one more deep breath and a nod from Léa, Tara slowly inched the mirror into the cockpit doorway. Moving it slightly from side to side, Tara checked out the galley and first class cabin. She looked up at Léa.
“Nothing much there. Just an airline cabin,” said Tara.
“They’ve probably got the hostages in the back of the plane,” said Léa.
They both stood up at the same time. Tara stuffed the mirror back into it’s pocket. Léa slung her rifle over her shoulder, then pulled the larger handgun from the thigh holster. Tara looked at her and started to speak. But Léa cut her off.
“Airline cabins aren’t that big. This’ll be easier to use, if we need it,” she said.
Tara thought about it for a few moments, then nodded. She slung her own rifle and pulled the handgun. After checking it over, she looked up at nodded to Léa.
“I’ve done more of this shit, so I’ll go first,” said Tara.
“Speaking of shit, don’t forget what’s spilled all over the tarmac on the right side of the plane,” smiled Léa.
“So no matter what, we leave on the left side of the plane,” agreed Tara.
Léa pulled the slide on her gun back, then let it snap forward. Placing her left hand under her right, she moved the gun around. Léa stretched her shoulders and arms, testing her limit of motion with the tactical suspenders, rifle sling and thick tactical belt. Then she quickly cleared the cobwebs and looked at Tara.
“Ready?” said Léa.
“Set,” said Tara.
“Go,” said Léa.
Tara led the way out of the cockpit, past the galley and into the first class section of the big jet. Lights were flickering and a few seats were broken and blocked the aisle. Even though a few fires were burning, the cabin was surprisingly clear of smoke.
Following close behind Tara, Léa was barely a step behind. She paused at the 1st class lavatories to make sure no one was hiding, ready to surprise them from behind. The front of the airplane appeared to be deserted.
As they reached the mid-cabin passenger doorway, Tara stopped and held up her right hand. She clinched her fist, then pointed to the door that lead to the Jetway. Léa transferred the gun to her left hand and tapped Tara’s shoulder. She got the message. With her free right hand, Léa snagged her smaller gun and took a half step to her right. With guns pointed fore and aft, she could deal with any threat from any direction.
Tara quickly stepped into the door, then briefly disappeared down the jetway. It only took a few moments for Tara to return.
“No one home,” said Tara.
Léa waved the gun in her left hand.
“Onward then?” she asked.
“Onward,” said Tara.
Léa stuffed the smaller gun back in it’s holster as Tara took up point and began making her way through the business class cabin. A curtain hung in the aisle in front of them.
Just three more steps to the curtain. Léa and Tara knew the Maze’s ultimate challenge would be on the other side of the that curtain.
Two more steps to the curtain. Both Léa and Tara felt their pulse rates begin to pick up. It was the anticipation building. Both felt a surge of excited adrenaline.
One more step. The surge of excitement quickly changed to a surge of dread. Tara looked back at Léa. Their expressions were the same.
Fear of what they would find on the other side of the curtain. Tara turned and stepped to one side of the curtain. Léa took the other side. Tara dropped to one knee. Léa quickly followed. They looked at each other once more.
The fear in their eyes would be completely justified once Tara opened the curtain.
The second novel in The Castle of Spies eBook (and paperback) series is getting a lot closer to it's release on Amazon and iTunes. Writing on the story concluded on Christmas morning. Now it's editing time and new eBook cover design time. The plan for now is to put Castle in the Mountains on-line sometime around March 1st. Until there, here is another excerpt from the book. Léa and Tara are in a training simulation back at The Castle. There might possibly be one more excerpt before final publication, so stay tuned to the twitter/facebook pages for publication updates and the last excerpt.
First, a few quick disclaimers … for newcomers, you should know that one of the characters is very fond of the 'f' word. So if words offend you, turn back now. Second, I normally have music playing while I'm writing. You'll see a "playlist" entry just before the story starts. The entire playlist can be found on this writer's blog just below this entry. Third, the following is an excerpt from the upcoming novel: Castle in the Mountains, part of The Castle of Spies eBook series. All rights are reserved.
The 757
PLAYLIST:
“From Zero to Galactic Hero” - Other Worlds - Really Slow Motion & Instrumental Core
~ ~ ~
Running down a steep hill is not a good idea.
Running down a steep hill at full speed is less of a good idea. It’s an even worse idea when you’re carrying about twenty pounds of tactical gear.
Léa and Tara’s mad dash down the hill was even more treacherous because the hill was made up of loose gravel. Every few steps, there was another stick of wood, another hunk of concrete or another big rock in just the right spot to trip someone running down the hill.
After scoping out the situation, Léa and Tara decided there simply was no way to sneak down to the airport terminal unobserved. The best thing to do was get down the hill as fast as they could, then find cover by the airport’s main door. The side of the hill was littered with debris they’d have to dodge, but that could be a good thing. Weaving around the sticks, rocks and pipes would probably help them avoid snipers.
As she ran, Tara quickly glanced to her right. Léa was running along side, but Tara knew her best friend could easily run down the hill a lot faster. The best friends had a lot in common, but they were clearly not sisters. Tara was short and skinny. Léa was taller and a lot stronger.
What Tara didn’t have in physical strength, she more than made up for with determination and intelligence. Along with a deep, lifelong emotion bond, Léa and Tara were kindred spirits because they had more brain power than anyone they’d ever met. Sometimes being the smartest kid in class is great. But sometimes it’s not easy at all. Luckily for Léa and Tara, it was easy because the best friends had each other.
Suddenly, Tara felt something tug at her left boot. She felt herself beginning to fall. Tara glanced down and saw the ground was coming up fast. Rocks, sticks and gravel were getting nearer and nearer to her face. In a spit second, Tara knew she was falling and about to do a massive face plant into the gravel. In that split second, Tara knew she had to act fast.
Léa sensed that something was wrong. She looked to her left just as Tara tucked her chin down to her chest, hunched her shoulders and rolled onto the ground. As momentum carrier her forward, Tara was back on her feet, running alongside Léa.
“You okay?” Léa huffed.
“Yeah. Fine,” Tara huffed back.
“Nice move,” huffed Léa.
She stole another glance at her best friend as the small, half smile appeared on one side of Tara’s mouth. Before Léa turned her attention back to running down the hill, she glanced at Tara’s shoulder. The bandage was gone and blood oozed down Tara’s arm.
Then the hill abruptly ended and Léa and Tara were running across a small parking lot. There were junked cars to dodge and a few deep potholes too. Running between the cars, Léa and Tara saw the front end of a small yellow VW Bug sticking up out of the ground. And it was coming up fast.
“Split up,” huffed Tara.
After running around the sunken VW Bug, Léa and Tara hopped the curb and ended up on either side of the main terminal entrance. With their backs to the brick wall, it only took Léa a few moments to recover her breath after the high speed run down the hill and across the parking lot. Tara huffed a few more times before she looked at Léa and nodded.
“So far, so good,” said Léa.
“So far,” agreed Tara.
As they stood with their backs to the airport brick wall, Léa tilted her head to one side and listened. Whoever designed the terminal had an eye and an ear for detail.
“The white zone is for immediate loading and unloading of passengers only. There is no stopping in the red zone,” said a male announcer.
The same message was repeated by a female announcer. Then the male announcer. Then the female announcer. Suddenly, Tara let out a single half snort, half laugh. Léa looked at her best friend. Tara hardly ever laughed.
“What’s so funny?” asked Léa.
Tara’s half smile remained on her face as she shook her head and closed her eyes.
“Wait for it,” said Tara.
The announcements continued a few more times. Léa didn’t hear anything different. Then the message completely changed.
“Listen Betty, don't start up with your white zone shit again,” said the male announcer.
Tara laughed out loud again. Léa smiled. It was rare to see Tara actually laughing.
“I’ve heard that before,” said Léa.
“It’s from the movie Airplane,” laughed Tara.
“Thomas Austin is having way too much fun,” smiled Léa.
Suddenly, Tara stopped laughing. The smile disappeared from her face. Léa gripped her gun tighter as she saw Tara’s expression completely change.
“What?” said Léa quietly.
“Shit doesn’t happen around here without a reason,” said Tara.
“So that’s not just there for fun?” said Léa nodding to the speakers.
“Right,” said Tara.
“But they like to have fun around here,” said Léa.
“There’s a time for fun and there’s a time for serious shit,” said Tara.
Léa surveyed the scene before her. She saw the burning cars, the debris scattered around the front of the terminal, the bullet holes in the wall. Then she looked at Tara’s bloody shoulder. She nodded to the speaker that was still broadcasting the loading zone messages.
“He’s not having fun at all. That’s a distraction. He’s messing with us,” said Léa.
“Giving us a false sense of security,” added Tara.
Léa looked forward, her eyes stopping on the yellow VW bug sticking out of the ground. Someone even thought to put a cute, customized license plate on the wrecked car. Léa looked back at Tara’s bloody shoulder. She nodded a few times, then looked straight ahead.
“Worked on me,” she said.
“Me too,” said Tara.
Léa started to say something, but Tara cut her off.
“Let’s get through this thing. We can analyze the lessons we need to learn later,” said Tara.
Léa cleared the cobwebs, looked at Tara and nodded.
“Ready?” said Tara.
“Set,” Léa nodded.
“Go,” said Tara.
In a split second, Léa and Tara turned, took two steps sideways and stood shoulder to shoulder as the glass doors to the terminal slid open. With their guns pointing directly ahead, they took four steps forward and two steps to each side. Within seconds, they were standing with their backs against the exact opposite side of the brick wall.
The inside of the terminal was absolute chaos. Small fires were burning. Waiting room chairs were upside down and scattered around the floor. Computer terminals were shattered. Every so often, a small explosion erupted on a wall or counter simulating gunfire. Léa looked at Tara’s bloody shoulder.
“Those may be fake bullets, but we shouldn’t be fooled,” she said.
Tara looked down at her shoulder, then up at Léa. She could tell Léa was feeling guilty about calling the coast clear back at the entrance to the street. Tara rotated her shoulder a few times. It oozed a little more blood, but Tara smiled.
“It’s just a scratch. Doesn’t even hurt,” she said.
Léa nodded, then looked straight ahead. She scanned the lobby, looking for a way up to the departure gates. The signs were in multiple languages, just like at any real international airport. Looking to her right, Léa finally found the sign she was looking for.
“I think we’re going that way,” she said pointing with her gun.
“Let’s get going,” said Tara.
Walking side by side, they slowly made their way around the broken chairs, fires and trash that littered the simulated airport lobby. Whoever constructed the airport and roadway did an amazing job. Every so often, Léa had to remind herself she was deep in the cliffs under the haunted castle north of her hometown.
As they turned the corner, they saw a long flight of stairs that followed the wall, then turn to the left. A sign above the stairway said: To All Planes.
The airports’ security checkpoint stood between the stairs and Léa and Tara. There was a metal detector and a carry-on scanner. Aside from several piles of burning trash, it was almost like a real security area. Almost. The big difference was the absence of all the security people.
“This will be the first time I’ve ever gone through security and not had to wait an hour,” groused Tara.
“I guess I can leave my laptop in my backpack this time,” said Léa.
“I am not taking off my fucking shoes,” quipped Tara.
Léa smiled as Tara started walking through the metal detector. As she stepped through, alarm bells sounded. Startled, Tara jumped away from the metal detector and almost tripped over some grey security scanner trays. Léa let out a a long, loud laugh.
“Fuck me,” said Tara.
“Nothing wrong with your cat-like reflexes,” snickered Léa.
Tara eyed the metal detector as Léa walked through. The bells sounded once more. Léa patted the small gun holstered under her arm and smiled up at Tara. But Tara wasn’t smiling.
“Whoever put this place together is a real fucking comedian,” she groused.
“That’s your pal Thomas Austin,” smiled Léa.
“He’s not my pal,” said Tara.
Léa nodded in the direction of the stairs.
“Ready?” she asked.
“Lead on,” said Tara.
As they took off, Tara glanced over her shoulder back at the metal detector.
“Fucking comedian,” said hissed under her breath.
Walking up the stairs, Léa and Tara had to dodge more derbies and a few more fires. As they walked past one fire, Léa paused to examine it more closely. What appeared to be a pile of burning trash was really a ceramic model with several small jets of flames.
“Propane,” sniffed Léa.
“Pretty realistic,” agreed Tara.
“More special effects from Thomas?” Léa speculated.
“He’s a fucking genius at dreaming up amazing shit,” said Tara.
“Was he in on your little show back at Deep in the Cliffs?” asked Léa.
When Tara didn’t say anything, Léa looked over her shoulder. She saw the ever so slight smile appear on the corner of her best friends mouth.
“I’ll never tell,” said Tara.
“Yeah, I think your cover is blown on that one,” smiled Léa.
Léa got to the top of the stairs first. Tara was a step or two behind her. Standing shoulder to shoulder, Léa and Tara scanned the passenger boarding area. Only a few overhead lights worked. It was dark with lots of shadows. Most of the light came from the propane fires burning around them.
Without saying a word, they started walking toward an open door that lead to the jetway. As they got closer to the door, small explosions from bullets began erupting on the opposite wall. Someone must be in the Jetway shooting.
Léa and Tara moved closer to the wall away from the bullet hits. After a few more steps, the brick wall ended and was replaced by shattered glass windows. Looking to their right, they saw a full sized Boeing 757 parked at the gate. A small baggage truck burned near the right wing. As they looked over the jet, Léa and Tara noticed shadows moving behind the passenger windows. They watched the scene before them for a few minutes.
“I think I counted four different shadows moving around,” said Léa.
“I don’t see anyone on the tarmac,” said Tara.
“Let’s check the Jetway,” said Léa.
As they stepped out from behind the brick wall, a wave of heat from the fires burning near the airplane blew into the terminal. A few more bullet holes appeared on the opposite wall. Léa and Tara immediately dove for the floor.
“Think those are real?” asked Léa.
“Don’t know, don’t care,” said Tara.
With her gun cradled in her arms, Tara began inching across the floor toward the door to the Jetway. Léa followed closely behind. More small explosions from bullets erupted on the terminal wall. Suddenly, a larger explosion, strong enough to shake the terminal, blew flames and debris over Léa and Tara. They crouched lower to the ground, but kept moving toward the door.
“Hang back,” said Tara over her shoulder.
She looked down and closed her eyes for a second, then looked up and peered around the corner and down the Jetway. A few more simulated bullets exploded on the opposite wall. But Tara didn’t see anyone shooting.
“No one in the Jetway,” said Tara over her shoulder.
Léa inched up beside Tara and quickly poked her head around the corner. Then, staying very close to the ground, she inched past Tara to the other side of the door. Shuffling around so she faced Tara, Léa peered around the Jetway door again, then looked out the shattered glass window down at the airplane.
Several fires burned around the airplane. Baggage was scattered near one of the cargo doors. A truck with a silver tank was overturned near the right wing of the airplane. A pool of nasty looking, blue liquid had spread out around the truck. Léa made a mental note to avoid that area at all costs. She looked back at Tara.
“We need to steer clear of the right wing of the airplane,” she said.
“Why?” asked Tara.
“The airplane bathroom truck rolled and spilled,” said Léa.
“No shit?” smiled Tara.
“A lot of shit, actually,” smiled Léa.
Tara’s half smile briefly appeared as she looked at her best friend. But her smile quickly disappeared as more gunshots appeared to come from the Jetway. Tara stole another glance around the corner.
“I can’t see anyone in the Jetway, but I think we need to figure out another way onto the plane,” said Tara.
Léa peeked around the corner down the Jetway. Looking back outside the window at the airplane, Léa agreed that going down the Jetway wasn’t a good idea. Looking at the tarmac, she saw the path seemed fairly clear. But a Boeing 757 sits fairly high off the ground making getting aboard the aircraft nearly impossible. Then Léa looked up at the Jetway.
“How about up there?” she said.
Tara looked down the Jetway, the out the shattered glass window at the left wing of the big jet. Looking up at the Jetway, she saw the path to the plane appeared to be completely clear.
“Looks good,” she said.
Placing her gun on the floor in front of her, Léa did a quick pushup. She kept her upward motion going as she kicked her feet forward bringing her knees to her chest. She only paused a moment, looking around to make sure she was clear to stand. In the next second, Léa pushed her hands off the floor, grabbed her gun and was standing with her back to the wall by the door.
“Your turn,” she said looking down at Tara.
As Tara stood, Léa clipped the rifle to her tactical vest. Reaching into the thigh pocket in her tactical pants, Léa pulled out a tightly coiled black rope. Reaching behind her, Léa pulled a heavy metal hook from a pocket attached to her belt.
“I hate climbing up ropes,” said Tara.
Léa looked over as Tara attached the heavy metal hook to her own rope. She was flexing her hands and fingers as she uncoiled the rope. Tara was also breathing deeply, building up oxygen in her blood.
“It’s not that far up,” said Léa.
With her back to the wall, Tara looked out the shattered window and up to the top of the Jetway.
“I’ll make it,” she said.
Once the ropes were uncoiled, Tara took a few more deep breaths, adjusted the half finger gloves she was wearing and looked at Léa. They nodded at the same time, turned and tossed their ropes. Both hooks caught the top of the Jetway and Léa and Tara were out the window and at the top of the jetway within seconds. Crouching close to the top of the Jetway, they surveyed the scene around them.
“No one seems to be shooting at us,” observed Tara.
“For now,” said Léa.
As they looked down the Jetway, Léa and Tara were carefully coiling up their ropes. Léa looked over the edge. Her eyes grew in size as she realized how high up they were. She closed her eyes as her head snapped slightly from side to side.
Tara caught Léa clearing the cobwebs and the small, half smile briefly appeared. She’d watched her best friend’s personality tic for years. It was just one of the things that made Léa uniquely Léa. There was no one else like her and Tara found that comforting.
“What?” said Tara warmly.
Léa looked over at her best friend and realized Tara had once again caught her clearing the cobwebs. Most people found Léa’s many personality tics annoying. But Léa knew her cobweb clearing tic was something Tara actually appreciated.
“Long way down,” said Léa.
Tara looked over the side of the Jetway. It really was a long way down. Looking down the Jetway, Tara saw the rain shroud was pressed firmly against the big jet.
“How are we going to get into the airplane?” she asked.
“One of the pilot’s windshields has been punched out. We can get in there,” said Léa.
“We’ll only need one of the ropes to crawl down,” said Tara.
She removed the heavy metal hook, stuffed it back in it’s belt pocket and began carefully coiling up her rope. Léa removed her rope hook and put it away too. Unlike the spies in the movies, they learned it was best not to leave equipment behind. You never knew when you might need it again.
Léa stuffed her coiled rope under one of her tactial belt’s suspenders, unclipped her gun and shuffled her feet. Tara unclipped her gun, then looked at Léa.
“Ready?” said Tara.
“Set,” said Léa.
“Go,” said Tara.
Running side by side, Lea and Tara quickly made it down the top of the Jetway and onto the top of the jetliner. Once on slightly curved top of the airplane, they crouched low in case anyone decided to start shooting. Tara kept watch as Léa pulled the rope from under her suspenders, loped it over one of the jet’s antennas and threw the ends over the nose.
“Think that’s strong enough to hold us?” asked Tara.
Léa nudged the antenna and gave the rope a firm tug.
“Looks like it,” she said.
“Off you go, I’ll cover you up here,” said Tara.
Léa gave the ropes another firm tug, then started inching toward the front of the airplane. As the fuselage began dropping toward the nose, Léa swung her boots around.
“Good thing these boots have rubber soles,” she said.
Tara looked back as Léa began to disappear down the nose of the plane. She was careful to stay in the middle of the airplane so she wouldn’t slip off the side. Léa inched forward and down until her boots touched the edge of the shot out windshield.
“Careful around the window,” said Tara.
Léa looked up and smiled as she lowered herself into the cockpit. Just before she crawled through the window, Tara noticed a look of pain suddenly appear in Léa eyes. But before Tara could ask, Léa disappeared into the big jet. A second later, Tara saw the rope bounce twice.
“Your turn,” said Léa from insde the airplane.
Tara quickly clipped her gun to her vest, picked up the rope and started inching forward. As she swung her legs over the front of the airplane, her feet quickly found the edge of the shattered windshield. Gripping the ropes tightly, she inched into the cockpit.
Cockpit windows are the biggest windows in a jetliner, but it was still a tight fit for Tara. She wiggled over the dashboard, then rolled on to her back just before neatly sliding into the pilot’s seat.
The control panel in front of her was a mass of broken glass, tangled wires and red flashing lights. The air was thick with electrical smoke. Tara looked at the overhead panel and saw the jet’s auxiliary power unit appeared to be running. She tapped a few gauges, then pressed a button labeled recirculating fans and the smoke quickly cleared.
“I didn’t know you spoke airplane,” said Léa behind her.
“There are several classes on airplanes in Spy School,” said Tara over her shoulder.
She tapped a few more gauges on the upper panel, then spun two dials. A few seconds later, cooler air began blowing through the vents in the cockpit. As she pressed a few more buttons, the lights flickered, then got brighter.
“Any chance you can fire this thing up and fly us to our hotel pool on Mykonos?” asked Léa.
Tara pointed to a small digital readout in the center of the upper panel.
“Afraid not. We don’t have much fuel,” said Tara.
“Plus there’s the minor detail of several tons of rock, a castle and a small pub between us and the sky,” said Léa.
Mentioning the pub brought the slight, half smile to back to Tara’s face. But it quickly disappeared as Tara turned to look at Léa.
“Fuck! What happened to you?” exclaimed Tara.
Léa was leaning against the door to the cockpit. One hand was tightly gripping her shoulder. Dark, red blood was flowing between her fingers.
“It’s nothing. I got a little too close to the broken glass when I was crawling through the window,” she said.
Tara practically jumped out of the pilot’s seat. After taking a quick look at Léa’s shoulder, she reached into the thigh pocket of her black tactical pants and pulled out the small first aid kit. Léa looked at her best friend as Tara went to work cleaning out the deep cut. Lines of tense concern appeared around Tara’s eyes and mouth.
“It’s just a cut. I’ll be fine,” said Léa.
Tara continued gently cleaning out the cut. The flow of blood had slowed. But there were still a few chunks of glass Tara was trying to dig out. She put the first aid kit in Léa’s good hand.
“Hold this,” said Tara.
She sorted through a few of the bandages and wipes until she found some small tweezers. After wiping the tweezers off, Tara examined the cut closer. After taking a deep breath, she gently pushed the tweezers into Léa’s shoulder. Tara tried to be careful, but she could tell she was hurting Léa.
“Sorry,” said Tara.
“At least now we match,” said Léa.
“Match?” asked Tara.
“Our shoulders,” smiled Léa.
“Huh?” said Tara.
She was concentrating on digging the last hunk of glass out of Léa’s shoulder. It was wedged in deep, but Tara eventually wiggled it free. A fresh river of blood started flowing from Léa’s shoulder as Tara dropped the glass on the floor.
“Gimme that,” said Tara.
Léa held the first aid kit just out of Tara’s reach.
“Gimme that, please,” smiled Léa.
Tara closed her eyes. Even though she was sadly shaking her head from side to side, the small half smile appeared on her face. She could always count on Léa to lighten the mood.
“So what’s this about us matching?” asked Tara.
“We’re both going to have matching shoulder scars,” said Léa proudly.
Tara looked down at her own shoulder, then over at Léa’s shoulder. Both shoulders were still bleeding. Tara pulled two square bandages out of her thigh pocket. Ripping it open, she gently covered Léa’s shoulder.
“Gimme that,” repeated Tara.
Before Léa could admonish Tara for forgetting the ‘p’ word, Tara quickly said it.
“That’s better,” said Léa as she handed Tara the first aid kit.
With matching bandages on their shoulders, Léa and Tara unslung their tactical rifles and looked over the cockpit door. They stood on either side of the narrow door. After taking a few deep breaths, they nodded to each other. Léa reached out and gently turned the knob. The door easily swung open.
But Léa and Tara didn’t immediately look around corner to check out the cabin. Without moving a muscle, they kept their backs flat agains the cockpit bulkhead, waiting.
When nothing happened for a few minutes, Tara and Léa looked at each other. At the same time, they both turned to face each other, then dropped down on one knee. Tara reached into a small pocket and pulled out a small mirror. It was lined with heavy, black plastic.
After one more deep breath and a nod from Léa, Tara slowly inched the mirror into the cockpit doorway. Moving it slightly from side to side, Tara checked out the galley and first class cabin. She looked up at Léa.
“Nothing much there. Just an airline cabin,” said Tara.
“They’ve probably got the hostages in the back of the plane,” said Léa.
They both stood up at the same time. Tara stuffed the mirror back into it’s pocket. Léa slung her rifle over her shoulder, then pulled the larger handgun from the thigh holster. Tara looked at her and started to speak. But Léa cut her off.
“Airline cabins aren’t that big. This’ll be easier to use, if we need it,” she said.
Tara thought about it for a few moments, then nodded. She slung her own rifle and pulled the handgun. After checking it over, she looked up at nodded to Léa.
“I’ve done more of this shit, so I’ll go first,” said Tara.
“Speaking of shit, don’t forget what’s spilled all over the tarmac on the right side of the plane,” smiled Léa.
“So no matter what, we leave on the left side of the plane,” agreed Tara.
Léa pulled the slide on her gun back, then let it snap forward. Placing her left hand under her right, she moved the gun around. Léa stretched her shoulders and arms, testing her limit of motion with the tactical suspenders, rifle sling and thick tactical belt. Then she quickly cleared the cobwebs and looked at Tara.
“Ready?” said Léa.
“Set,” said Tara.
“Go,” said Léa.
Tara led the way out of the cockpit, past the galley and into the first class section of the big jet. Lights were flickering and a few seats were broken and blocked the aisle. Even though a few fires were burning, the cabin was surprisingly clear of smoke.
Following close behind Tara, Léa was barely a step behind. She paused at the 1st class lavatories to make sure no one was hiding, ready to surprise them from behind. The front of the airplane appeared to be deserted.
As they reached the mid-cabin passenger doorway, Tara stopped and held up her right hand. She clinched her fist, then pointed to the door that lead to the Jetway. Léa transferred the gun to her left hand and tapped Tara’s shoulder. She got the message. With her free right hand, Léa snagged her smaller gun and took a half step to her right. With guns pointed fore and aft, she could deal with any threat from any direction.
Tara quickly stepped into the door, then briefly disappeared down the jetway. It only took a few moments for Tara to return.
“No one home,” said Tara.
Léa waved the gun in her left hand.
“Onward then?” she asked.
“Onward,” said Tara.
Léa stuffed the smaller gun back in it’s holster as Tara took up point and began making her way through the business class cabin. A curtain hung in the aisle in front of them.
Just three more steps to the curtain. Léa and Tara knew the Maze’s ultimate challenge would be on the other side of the that curtain.
Two more steps to the curtain. Both Léa and Tara felt their pulse rates begin to pick up. It was the anticipation building. Both felt a surge of excited adrenaline.
One more step. The surge of excitement quickly changed to a surge of dread. Tara looked back at Léa. Their expressions were the same.
Fear of what they would find on the other side of the curtain. Tara turned and stepped to one side of the curtain. Léa took the other side. Tara dropped to one knee. Léa quickly followed. They looked at each other once more.
The fear in their eyes would be completely justified once Tara opened the curtain.