Читать книгу Mirror, Mirror at 1600 D.C. - Edward Galluzzi - Страница 13

Chapter 6

Target ‘Target One’

Harrison arrived at the Rome airport less than two hours after receiving the message that reported the disappearance of Software. Not knowing President Ashton’s whereabouts was disturbing in and of itself without having any knowledge of the circumstances of her disappearance. Harrison paid the cab driver and walked toward the hangar that shrouded Target One, his private jet. He filed his flight plan to Washington, D.C. and reviewed his plans for scheduled refueling.

With everything in apparent order, Harrison boarded Target One and entered the cockpit. He belted himself into the pilot’s seat and began his routine instrument check for the flight. As Harrison stepped through the checklist, the scent of Hannah on his clothes made his mind drift to thoughts of her and their embrace of not long ago. Distracted by the image, Harrison took a deep breath, cleared his mind and focused on his flight preparations.

With the checklist complete, Harrison rolled Target One out of the hangar and began taxiing toward the runway. He radioed the tower his intentions, “Roma Airport, this is Target One, over.” After a slight pause, the tower replied, “Go ahead Target One.” “Target One ready to taxi,” transmitted Harrison. “Target One, you are clear for takeoff on runway 318,” authorized the tower. “Roger,” replied Harrison. He accelerated the jet and listened as the engines grinded from a low hum to a high pitch scream. Harrison steered Target One in the direction of runway 318. He glanced skyward at the distant horizon. The darkness was retreating as dawn broke over Italy. Harrison turned the corner onto runway 318. He stopped at the edge of the runway and scanned his instrument panel one last time for any anomalies, but he was alerted to none.

Harrison radioed the tower for final clearance. “Hold for incoming flight,” was the traffic controller’s warning. “Roger control,” radioed Harrison. Except for the droll scream of the engines, silence shrouded the cockpit. As the time of the hold by the tower grew, so did Harrison’s impatience. He was anxious to become airborne for it was in the air that he planned to contact Mentor. Harrison received his orders from and was responsible to Mentor. There was no paper trail for Mentor or the organization that Harrison pledged his allegiance. The line from Mentor to the President had no branches; neither did the line from Mentor to Hardware. Harrison’s reflections were interrupted by Roma control, “Target One, you are clear for take off. Have a pleasant flight. Ciao.” “Thank you. Target One out.”

The scream of the engines increased in pitch as Harrison accelerated and guided the jet down the runway. The rumble of the runway gave way to the smoothness of flight as the jet lifted off the runway. Harrison continued his glide path until Target One reached 10,000 feet in accordance with his flight plan. He engaged the autopilot and unbuckled himself from the pilot’s seat. Harrison glanced at the instrument panel and scanned the many devices to determine that their readings were within normal parameters. Having satisfied himself of their performance, he walked out of the cockpit and into a small office adjacent to the cockpit.

The size of the office belied the power of the electronics, weapons and other equipment it contained. Harrison pushed one of several buttons on his desk that lowered a panel on the wall. The opening revealed sensitive communications equipment adapted with scrambling devices and peripherals such as a fax machine, video conferencing monitors, and satellite tracking instruments.

Harrison sat in front of the communications array and donned a set of earphones. He placed the transmitter in scramble mode and broadcasted freely, “Hardware to Mentor. Hardware to Mentor. Over.” Static filled his ears, as no reply was forthcoming. Harrison repeated his broadcast and waited. Within a minute came the reply, “Hardware, stand by for Mentor.” Static again filled the silence…a long silence. The anticipation heightened Harrison’s senses as the adrenalin surged within him.

“Hardware, this is Mentor, came the long awaited voice. Harrison responded immediately, “Mentor, this is Hardware, go ahead.” “Harrison, quickly, what’s your altitude?” “Target One is at 10,000 feet” was the pilot’s terse reply. Harrison continued, “Why do you…” but Mentor interrupted him. “Not sure, listen carefully. Scout, who was stationed in California and Eagle, who was based in Texas were ordered to fly here by me shortly after you received your message in Rome. Both their planes disappeared off radar at 8,000 feet.” “Sabotage?” queried Harrison. “Much too coincidental to suspect otherwise,” was his superior’s reply. Mentor continued, “We have cleanup teams headed for their last known radar position, but that will take considerable time. Suspect either a time bomb or one trigger by altitude once it is armed. We can’t take any chances, Harrison. I need you on this one. Suggest you canvass Target One and maintain present altitude. Do not, I repeat, do not go below 8,000 feet.”

Harrison’s adrenalin flowed freely once again. “Understood Mentor, was his reply. “Where is Software?” asked Harrison. “Likelihood that security has been compromised. Will discuss all circumstances surrounding Software upon your arrival,” replied the executive. The comforting voice continued, “Be careful, Harrison. Use your sixth sense and even that seventh sense of yours. Come home safe.” “Will do Mentor. Hardware out.” With that, Harrison closed the communications panel and returned to Target One’s cockpit.

Harrison entered the cockpit and stared immediately at his altimeter. He sighed with some relief as it continued to read 10,000 feet. Harrison gazed at the other indicators to rule out even the slightest hit of tampering or sabotage. He checked the autopilot’s heading, speed and altitude one more time. He also inspected his fuel level. This was not a time to make a mental error. ‘Must keep above 8,000 feet,’ he reminded himself. Harrison decided to search the jet methodically and started at the rear of the plane. He grabbed a flashlight, left the cockpit and headed toward the back of Target One. Harrison hoped that if there was an explosive device aboard that it was inside the jet and not mounted on the external fuselage. That would be very bad news indeed. Harrison also reminded himself that the explosive device could be time-detonated and not impacted by the jet’s altitude.

Harrison began his search by opening every panel above the seats, including the overhead storage compartments. He shined the narrow intensive beam of light into every nook and cranny visible to the naked eye. Harrison looked for any sign of an explosive device, especially extra wires mounted along the fuselage. He was quite familiar with Target One as he helped perform maintenance on her for the past five years.

The longer that Harrison searched the queasier his feeling. ‘It should be the other way around’ he thought to himself. ‘What if I missed something?’ echoed in his mind. His thoughts turned to more personal feelings. ‘Never see Hannah again? And Pope Josetta and President Ashton?’ Harrison returned to his search and focused intently on finding something before his search’s end. Time seemed to pass quickly for Harrison. ‘Too fast’ he believed as he knew that time was not on his side. Harrison reached the front of the jet in his search, but found nothing above the seats. He turned around and looked back to where he had been. ‘Could I have missed something?’ Harrison shrugged that possibility. He knelt down and bent over as he flashed the narrow beam of light under the first row of seats. He reached under each seat with his free hand in an attempt to uncover something that felt out of place. Harrison cautiously carried out this same search pattern for the remaining five rows of seats. As he finished exploring the last row of seats, he shook his head in disbelief that he had not found any explosive device or hint of sabotage.

Harrison next opened the floor panels near the middle row of seats that led to the small cargo hold under the belly of the jet. He pushed back cautiously each panel, feeling around the edges and underneath for anything out of the ordinary. Harrison then leaned forward causing his head to disappear below floor level. His light scanned the cargo area and revealed nothing but cobwebs. Harrison tried to remember the last time he stored equipment in the cargo hold.

Harrison backed out of the opening of the cargo hold. He secured the panels to the opening on the floor and replaced the section of carpeting that covered the panel doors. Harrison entered the cockpit of the jet once more to check on the status of the autopilot and other instruments. He was again relieved to find that Target One was maintaining 10,000 feet and heading toward the eastern continental seaboard of the United States.

Feeling satisfied with Target One’s autopilot performance, Harrison left the cockpit and walked into the small office where several hours earlier he learned the fate of his colleagues…his former colleagues, Scout and Eagle. ‘His former colleagues’ he thought reluctantly. He pondered momentarily whether or not he would suffer a similar fate. Harrison began his search of the office by removing the panels that hid various electronic components. He examined carefully the electronic gear paying close attention to the motherboards, wiring and cabling. Harrison pushed aside wires and removed components as he searched for any sort of detonating device. ‘At this pace,’ he thought to himself, ‘the search will take considerable time.’ He then mumbled in irony, ‘I hope I’ve got the time.’

Harrison continued the cumbersome task of checking for any abnormality to his equipment. His search thus far yielded nothing except that his office was overrun with dust mites. Harrison was beginning to think that Target One was not violated and that he was safe. Or was it just a false sense of security that replaced his diminished adrenalin?

Harrison completed the search of his private jet in less than three hours. If there was an explosive device, it was not on board. It was unsettling to Harrison that the device may be mounted to the outer hull of his jet. Will he disappear with Target One as the turbojet descended below 8,000 feet? Harrison gave some thought of inspecting Target One a second time, but decided that his initial search was a thorough one.

Harrison sat at his desk and prepared a fax for Mentor: “Exhaustive search of Target One negative. Proceeding according to plan. Will land at alternative site. Say again, will land at alternative site. Will need transport.” Harrison decided not to throw caution to the wind if internal security was indeed compromised. Typically, he would fly into Washington Dulles International Airport in Chantilly, Virginia, but there was no sense in showing his colors if Target One survived the descent. Harrison inserted the note and pushed several buttons that automated the transmission process. The fax machine rang out with its familiar electronic signature. The note was scrambled as a matter of routine and sent to Mentor.

Harrison returned to the cockpit. He was about six hours away from the continental United States. He planned to start his descent while still over the Atlantic. If Target One exploded at or below 8,000 feet, he did not want to endanger the innocent people below by dropping a rain of torn and twisted metal on them.

Harrison folded his arms and laid back as far as he could into the pilot’s seat. He did not dare close his eyes, but he needed some mental rest. Harrison’s thoughts drifted to Hannah as they always did in his semi-relaxed state. He looked at his watch and realized

that it was almost ten o’clock in the morning in Rome. If Hannah decided to keep their scheduled visit with Josetta, his fiancée and holy friend would meet for the first time in one hour.