Omar put down the tablet and said, “You think they can get us to the safe house?”
“I do. We just need to take that tablet and show them where it is. It should be easy to find from the air.”
Omar held out a credit card, “This is our final account. The one I was going to use in Chile. It’ll be no good after you call.”
The Ghost said, “You still have the burned card? The one that started our troubles?”
“Yeah, but...”
The Ghost smiled and said, “It doesn’t matter if we use it now. They’re going to know everything we’ve done afterwards anyway. The card isn’t going to cause any damage.”
Omar replaced the first card with a second, and the Ghost said, “Is there at least fifty thousand on that? This is going to be expensive.”
Omar said, “Yes. Should be more than that. Might as well use it all.”
The Ghost said, “Take the copilot back to the cockpit and tell the captain to follow his instructions.”
They left and the Ghost dialed the number from the laptop into the copilot’s phone. When it was answered, he began a conversation that lasted for over ten minutes, with him trying to persuade the person on the other end. Eventually, he read off the credit card number and said, “We’ll be there in about fifteen minutes.”
He hung up and saw Omar leap to his feet in the cockpit. He came running back pointing out the window and shouting about an airplane. The Ghost leaned over and saw an Argentinian military A4 fighter jet keeping pace with them.
Omar said, “They’re calling the pilot. He’s asking to talk to them.”
The Ghost went to the cockpit. The captain said, “He’s demanding we talk to him or he’s going to shoot a missile.”
The Ghost turned to the copilot and said, “You know where you’re going?”
Ashen, the copilot looked as if he might be sick, but nodded his head. The Ghost told the captain to get out of his seat. The Ghost took his place, putting on the headset and hearing someone blaring on the radio about engaging their aircraft.
He said, “How do I respond?”
The copilot showed him, and he clicked on the net, saying, “Stop talking and listen.” The headset went silent. He continued, “If you shoot, you will kill the hostages. Do you have authority for that?”
He heard nothing in return. He looked at the display map and saw the international airport coming up fast, which meant his landing strip was even closer.
He turned to the copilot and said, “Shouldn’t you be lining up or something?”
The copilot said, “I can’t do it. I can’t do it. It’s getting too dark.”
The A4 pilot came back at him, saying in heavily accented English, “What are your intentions?”
The Ghost clicked on and said, “We are going to land at the Ushuaia airport. We want a fuel truck waiting. We will release the American secretary of state, but will keep the Israeli prime minister. If you fail to meet this demand, we will kill them both.”
The copilot looked hopeful at the words and the Ghost said, “We’re not landing there. Follow the flight plan I gave you. Go to the other strip.”
The copilot’s face soured again, and he nodded, banking the airplane in a slow turn. The Ghost looked out the window and could see a small town below him, the area blanketed with snow. He hoped Omar had been smartenough to realize what the weather would be here during winter when he stocked the safe house.
Over a channel of water, out in the distance, he could see the lights of the Ushuaia international airport. He looked down in the direction of their turn and could see a strip of asphalt right on the near edge of the channel, a cluster of single engine propeller airframes on one end and three large hangars lining up next to them. In front of the first hangar were two helicopters, one with its rotors slowly turning.
The A4 said, “Follow me to the airport.”
The Ghost said, “Okay. You take the lead.”
He saw the A4 race ahead and turned to the copilot, saying, “How was he following us? How did he know our plane was the correct one and not another?”
“The transponder. It broadcasts our callsign.”
“Turn it off.”
