Brodie and Taylor handed him their fake passports, and Collins gave them a cursory glance in the dim light and handed them back, saying, “I’m supposed to check your luggage, but if you assure me you’re not carrying explosives, guns, drugs, or smelly cheese, I’ll take your word for it.”
“You have our word,” Brodie assured him.
“Good.” He continued, “I’m also supposed to be sure you have special travel permits to go into this protected region.”
Brodie tapped his cargo pants where he had his Glock. “Right here.”
“Okay… somebody might ask you for them. Also, you were supposed to get yellow fever shots a week before you go to the jungle.”
Taylor replied, “We’re good to go.”
“Great.” He looked at the idling taxi. “Why’s he waiting?”
Brodie replied, “Because I told him to. How long before we lift off?”
Collins glanced at the nearby control tower. “Let’s see if these jokers will clear us for takeoff a little early.” He added, “We should be off the ground in ten minutes. Or less.”
“Less is good.”
“Right. Anybody need to use the head? Last chance. Okay, come aboard.”
Brodie waved Gabriel off and followed Collins and Taylor to the right side of the Cessna where a set of rolling stairs led into the passenger cabin.
Brodie and Taylor climbed into the small, comfortable-looking cabin, featuring two leather chairs facing forward and a two-person bench seat behind them, which Brodie thought looked big enough to hold a hog-tied Captain Mercer. For now he tossed his bag on it, and so did Taylor. Collins pulled the stairs away, shut and latched the door, then rounded the plane to the left side, where he climbed through the cockpit door into his seat.
Collins latched his door, saying to his passengers, “Welcome aboard Apex Flight One, nonstop to Ciudad Bolívar’s Tomás de Heres Airport where we refuel, then on to Kavak.” He added, “Please fasten your seat belts.” He put on his headphones, then fired up the engine and did a quick instrument check. He contacted the control tower and requested permission for takeoff, and since he seemed to be the only aircraft going anywhere at this hour, Collins got the go-ahead.
He taxied across the tarmac onto the illuminated runway, then throttled up the Cessna to takeoff power. He said to his passengers, “And away we go,” and began racing down the concrete runway.
The Cessna lifted off into the black night.
Brodie looked out the window as the aircraft gained altitude, watching the dark city slowly shrink beneath them, a dense slash of human habitation in a narrow valley, its tendrils climbing into the surrounding hills. He hoped he never saw this city again—not even on the nightly news.
Taylor was looking out her window and Brodie asked her, “Can you see Curaçao?”
“I can see Simón Bolívar Airport. I hope Luis and his family are on a flight out of there.”
“Me too.” Maggie Taylor sometimes showed too much empathy. Not a bad trait, but sometimes it got in the way of the mission. Which always came first. Except, of course, when he, Scott Brodie, wanted to get laid. He wished she’d shown such concern for the happiness of others back in the hotel.
“What are you thinking about?”
“I’m thinking about Luis and his family in an American supermarket.”
“That’s nice.”
The Cessna banked right, heading south. In the moonlight Brodie couldsee the endless expanse of hills, fields, and forests below, blanketing the countryside. Venezuela—to know her is your destiny.
Taylor tilted her seat back, yawned, and closed her eyes.
They reached cruising altitude and Collins’ voice came over the PA: “You can unbuckle if you want, but I suggest you stay strapped in. There’s water, cola, and juice in a cooler behind your seats.” He added, “Should be a smooth flight, but there are barf bags in your side seat pockets. We’re bucking some headwinds, so we should be landing at Tomás de Heres in about an hour and fifteen, hour thirty.”
Brodie asked Taylor, “You want something to drink?”
“Only if there’s a baño onboard.”
Collins overheard and said, “I have pee-pee tubes under your seats. Male and female.” He added, “I won’t look.”
“An officer and a gentleman,” said Brodie. He asked, “Mind if I come into the cockpit?”
