“Change of plans.” He gave Gabriel a ten and said, “Wait here in case we have another change of plans.”
“Sí. Gracias.”
Brodie took his bag, and he and Taylor walked toward the aircraft. He said to her, “Collins looks like an okay guy.”
“Good.”
“He says he can file a new flight plan and take us to Curaçao or Aruba.” He added, “Right off the coast.”
She glanced at him. “Is that what you want to do?”
“I’m asking you.”
She didn’t reply.
“No one would fault us if we decided to get out of this country. In fact, that’s what Worley and Dombroski wanted us to do.”
“Thanks for the option. I’m all in for Kavak.”
“Okay.” Just remember you said that. He added, “I think he’d also be game to take us from Kavak to Bogotá.”
She nodded, then said, “You need to call Colonel Dombroski, as per orders.”
“It would take the embassy commo people less than three minutes to pinpoint our signal.”
“Call from a landline.”
“I don’t see a phone booth.”
“Scott—”
“Let’s just get the hell out of here. We’ll call from Tomás de Heres.”
“Promise?”
“No. Look, Maggie, we are like ballistic missiles on a mission—unguided, and not able to be controlled, called back, or aborted by an electronic signal. We are on our own, flying toward our target. And that’s the way it’s got to be.”
She thought about that, not looking totally convinced, but said, “Okay.”
“I could learn to love you.”
“Don’t bother.”
They continued toward the aircraft, where Collins was checking out Mrs. Bowman in the dim light. He extended his hand to her. “Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Bowman.”
“Same here.”
“The bad weather has moved out to sea. This will be a very safe and smooth flight.”
“Good.”
“Is this all your luggage?”
Brodie replied, “We wanted to keep the plane light.”
“Okay… Weight shouldn’t be a problem at Kavak.”
“Have you flown there?”
“A few times.” He looked at Taylor. “Nothing to worry about.”
“I’m not worried.”
“Good. You just relax and enjoy the flight.”
Taylor glanced at Brodie, suspecting that he’d indulged his sick humor at her expense.
Collins motioned to the aircraft and assured her, “This is a Cessna Turbo Stationair HD, new model, one of the best and safest aircraft—”
“Let’s get moving,” Taylor suggested.
“Yes, ma’am. Just a formality, but I need to see your IDs.”
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.