The helicopter belonging to The Organization rocked slightly and strained against the ropes holding it to the anchors. The wind had become a strong, steady downward force with the occasional bout of turbulence.
Philippe wrestled with the controls of his hired helicopter as he approached Kendrick’s home from the south, over the lake. The wind carried most of the beating throb of the rotor blades away from the bungalow, and the glazing and solid roof allowed no noise through at all, not even the mournful howl of the wind.
The lights in the lounge showed Philippe where to aim for; he just needed a safe place to land. He decided on the shore of the lake, the black expanse of water would hide the dark shape of the machine, and offer calmer wind movement. The long climb to The Organization’s helicopter would be exhausting, but there was no other way of remaining undetected.
Philippe had considered entering the dwelling and killing everyone inside, but that would inevitably lead to an investigation; and anyway, he had no idea what security or weapons were at his victim’s disposal. He decided to sabotage both choppers and hide the crime that way.
The main problem was how to cause the machines to suddenly fail, early in flight, so the craft became uncontrollable.
Aircraft are designed so that if by any chance something goes wrong, there is ample warning and it is possible to make a landing. Wires shorting out are unlikely, because of special insulation or isolation, and are protected by fuses.
Nuts or screws to critical components cannot just unscrew, they have locking devices. Control rods and wires do not wear through and snap between inspections; fuel leaks on hot surfaces, to cause a fire or filters suddenly blocking also do not happen naturally. A bomb is a dead giveaway; it leaves characteristic damage and residue.
***
Philippe strapped on his rucksack, containing a selection of hand tools suitable for work on light aircraft, a machine pistol with spare ammunition and two blocks of candle wax surrounding blocks of magnesium, commonly used by campers as a fire lighter.
He would remove the air filter to the intake, and wedge the wax block in the inlet pipe. Constantly cooled by the air drawn in, it would take several minutes for the pipe to get hot enough to soften the wax. The wax would be sucked in and burnt, but the magnesium blocks would jam in the engine, and also burn through metal components. The magnesium would burn away to nothing, but the damaged parts would bind and seize, bursting their casing and spraying the debris all over the mountainside.
The Organization’s helicopter would be the first to sabotage. Fortunately for Philippe, the access panel to the engine was away from the bungalow. It took an hour to fit the block by torchlight; he had to handle the parts carefully, so none dropped away or were lost.
Philippe was freezing by then, his hands were so numb he could hardly hold the tools.
The other helicopter was much easier to work on and it was warm in the hanger. With the sliding doors closed and the heat from the small hydroelectric plant, he soon thawed out and completed his task.
Philippe slipped away back down the slope to the lake, warmed up his helicopter engine and flew back to the airport. All he had to do now was wait for the news reports announcing the crash.
***
Next morning in the bungalow, everyone sat down to an early full English breakfast, before leaving to get fuel and then home to The Organization.
A routine call to Sam left Max deeply shocked and stunned; he passed on the news to Carla, James, Amy and Stan.
Earlier, Sam had consulted experts to ascertain whether the gas harvesting was a potential risk to shipping. They had now made contact with the Whitehouse, informing them the site was causing the seabed to break up, leaking highly explosive methane gas, and would trigger volcanic eruptions and tsunamis. The consultant’s petrochemical clients had got together, and realizing the potential loss to their businesses acted immediately, to get the gas harvesting shut down.
Having recently got through the Gulf of Mexico oil spill crisis, Congress reacted with alarm at the threat of danger and pollution from the gas harvesting, and they rushed to protect their petrochemical business interests. The word quickly got out to other countries, adding global warming to the list of threats.
Sam had been advised that a military strike was being planned in secret. As soon as the attack group had decided how to capture the personnel on the terminal and render safe the seabed operation, they would tell him.
He was unsure how best to handle the problem. He fully understood all that Stan had explained, it made perfect sense; but Stan was just one man discredited at that, compared with teams of experts at the disposal of the Whitehouse.
Sam was still reeling from the discovery that one of his senior men had been responsible for dumping ionizing nuclear waste, down the throat of the active volcano on Montserrat. If the waste material were to settle together in one tight spot, deep beneath the earth’s mantle, the resulting nuclear explosion would rip the planet apart. A legacy for which The Organization was inadvertently responsible, for the next ten thousand years, the half-life of the material.
A chill went through Max at the thought of his recent escape from the erupting volcano on Montserrat, as he covered up for The Organization.
“Sam, do you have any objection if I speak to Senator Buck, he owes Carla and me big time for saving his fat rump, during the sea trial on US1?”
"He will never take a call from you," said Sam, “besides, if you set foot in America, you will be arrested and never see the light of day, ever again. The FBI, CIA and the Russian Mafia want to nail your hide.”
“Fair point Sam” Max admitted reluctantly, “but what can we do? We have to uncover the reason why the ships sank, when we go down in the US1.”
“It will be on station tomorrow, so go straight there and do what you can. I cannot expose The Organization in any way, Montserrat could be uncovered as well if the spotlight shines on us, then where will any of us end up?” Sam replied grimly.
***
“Right everyone,” said Max,” listen up, we have to fly back to Bermuda and get on board the US1, to investigate the reason for the loss of shipping around the Sargasso Sea. I for one, would like Stan to come with us, his knowledge might prove crucial and it could even restore his reputation in the eyes of the world.”
There was no hesitation in Stan’s agreement; he had read about the hijack of the revolutionary submarine, and the fascinating journey through the subterranean waterway, from Coatzacoalcos to the Gulf of Tehuantepec.
It was a tight squeeze fitting six people and all their luggage into the helicopter, but there was more than enough fuel and power to get back to the airport and refuel.
The pilot quickly made his pre-flight checks as the engine warmed up. When he was satisfied, they lifted off.
The most direct route to the airport was due south, across the lake and up, over a mountain peak.
During the steady climb, the pilot was increasingly concerned with the lack of power, over-rich fuel mixture and higher than normal manifold vacuum. These were the direct result of the restriction caused by the wax block. The engine temperature was now climbing above normal, although the pilot put this down to the load he was carrying.
The peak was extremely close now, and they did not have enough altitude to clear it at this angle of climb. Rather than have problems with turbulence at the peak with the lack of power, the pilot turned and headed west, back over the lake and rim, to follow the steep valley that would later head south again. This was a much longer route with greater turbulence, but hopefully more manageable, and within the power range of the failing engine.
As they crossed the rim, slightly higher than the surface of the lake, the ground suddenly fell away, and the strong downdraft caused the helicopter to plummet 70 feet, before stabilizing. Everyone, except the pilot and Stan, was startled at the rollercoaster ride.
The most stable height was at the bottom of the descending valley, but being so close to the rocks and carpet of trees, made everyone tense as the scenery rushed by. Although the pilot had not given any reason for his change of course, the others knew something was not right, and their anxiety was building every moment.
Suddenly, there was a colossal bang from the engine, as the whole assembly seized. The vibration from the engine through the airframe, was so severe that even with jaws clenched in terror, everyone’s teeth rattled. Then the final explosion as the engine burst open, tearing away the enclosing body panels, as flame and shrapnel rained down into the trees below. Instinctively, the pilot released the drive to the rotor, allowing the blades to feather and attempted to reduce the rate of descent.
Skillfully he guided the falling machine and caught an updraft close to the side of the valley. It did not stop the fall, but must have reduced the rate of impact as they crashed heavily through the trees, out onto a bare slope of rock. The helicopter tipped onto its right side, beating the unyielding surface with short stumps of disintegrating rotor.
The skids snagged the rough surface of the mountainside and tore loose, skewing the cabin so it slid backwards down the steep slope.
Cries of terror from the six souls trapped inside the cabin were drowned out by the scream of grinding metal on bare rock; they did not see the slope level out, or the cliff edge with its 60 meter drop to the valley floor.
The tail section struck a massive boulder like a cue to a billiard ball; the metal buckled and pushed the boulder over the edge, shattering it to pieces as it smashed into the cliff face. The cabin spun on the spot, giving everyone a glimpse of their alternative fate as the sliding stopped. The silence was as overwhelming as the crash had been; death thwarted by nature as it had placed the boulder in that position, hundreds of years before.
***
The pilot was the first to move, clambering up and out of his door, looking around to check for fire and assess their predicament. He heaved open the passenger door to let the others out, fortunately there were no significant injuries, just abrasions and heavy bruising.
So many little things had worked in their favor, to avoid more serious injury or death. The pilot’s skill, catching the updraft, and the shape of the slope itself. It was like the slope on a ski jump, very steep at the point of impact as they passed through the trees, breaking their speed and fall in doing so; they then scraped along the almost flat ledge of rock before the cliff edge. The tail section took most of the impact as it crumpled against the boulder, bringing them to a halt. One factor missing, and it would have turned into a tragedy.
Shock was setting in and they shuddered uncontrollably, worsened by the biting cold driving through their lightweight clothing. They were short of space in the cabin and because it would be well heated, they had stowed their coats with the luggage. The rear part of the helicopter had been blown apart, so all the luggage, including mobile phones, was strewn down the valley. There was no possibility of radio reception anyway, either by phone or from the cockpit, because they were fully surrounded by mountains.
What on earth were they going to do now?
Max suggested they all got back into the cabin, at least it would be warmer there for a little while, and he would scout around to see if there was a cave or anything they could make use of while waiting for rescue.
Then Stan spoke to Max out of earshot of the others, “we are in a bit of a bind you know Max. There will be no rescue party because we had not filed a flight plan, and no one expects us so we won’t be missed. We are about 5km from the village called Frasco, as the crow flies, but without climbing equipment, we cannot get down there for help, or back up to my place.
“It is still early morning and the temperature might rise a bit if the sun reaches us, but as you may have noticed we are in the shadow of the mountain, so that will only be for an hour, late afternoon. We will all freeze to death by nightfall. We have no way of communicating with anyone, because of the shielding of the mountains, and it is most unlikely anyone will be passing this way, hunting or climbing.
“Aircraft do not fly over this part, so the wreckage, although in plain sight, will not be seen.”
“So, you don’t have any good news then” Max replied. “I presume Frasco is at the far end of the valley; we would have flown over it on the way to the airport,” Max pointed west and to the south, round the base of their mountain.
“That’s right; it’s around the bend, out of sight by about 1.5km and some 600 meters below us,” Stan replied.
“It seems to me, we need warmth and something to attract attention in case someone might be looking this way” mumbled Max, more to himself than Stan. “You go and keep warm Stan, I’ll wander around and see if there is something we can make use of.”
Stan just walked away and climbed back into the cabin.
Shivering violently with the biting cold, Max scrabbled up the same rocky slope the cabin had slid down, and made his way to the trees, crushed in the crash. There was a lot of pine tree foliage they could burn if they could set light to it. That would burn for quite a while and being green, it would produce a lot of smoke. Great, if someone was looking.
Max climbed higher, his body warming slightly with the exertion and looked carefully in the direction they had flown; he hoped there might be clothing or other useful items he could salvage. But there wasn’t. He looked for a cave that might offer greater shelter than a metal cabin, but the trees were too dense to see through, so he made his way back to the wreck.
He looked at the remains of the helicopter and became aware of the lively conversation coming from within the cabin. Max was shocked when he realized they were all huddled in there, talking and occasionally laughing as though they were waiting for a rather late bus in a draughty bus shelter. They were content to leave their salvation to him or fate, and he had nothing to offer, he was letting them down.
They needed warmth, which was the first thing to sort out, at least that would buy them time to get discovered. He returned to the crushed trees and tossed down branches towards the wreck; the steep, bare, rocky slope allowed them to pile up on the ledge.
Next he asked if anyone had a knife to cut a rubber pipe, but they didn’t. Max used a piece of torn metal to cut through a rubber fuel feed to the engine. The fuel flowed freely, so he temporarily bunged up the pipe with a stick. Now he needed a container of some sort, so he could carry the fuel to the branches and start a fire. There was a polythene bag in the cabin, so he used that.
No one smoked or owned a lighter, so Max located the battery and shorted some wire across the terminals, using the sparks to ignite a fuel soaked cloth on a stick. He used this to light the fire.
WHOOSH! The fuel drenched branches caught alight, and the green foliage was soon sending up a dense column of smoke.
The others became inspired and clambered out of the cabin, adding more wood and fuel, to warm them and keep the fire burning.