The Loch Ness Legacy (7 page)

Even so, Zim expected a quick response once it landed, so it was critical to open the package before anyone could stop him.

Between the rioting prisoners, the crowd egging them on, and the guards yelling at them to break it up, it was nearly impossible to hear the nearest tower guard shout a warning about the parachute. Zim was attuned to hear such an out-of-context word, so he caught it right away and knew he had little time left.

Zim raised two fingers and pointed, the signal for the second part of the plan to go into motion. Another Aryan Knight triggered a small explosive device made from a bottle and a small amount of smuggled chemicals. It wasn’t much more than a pop, but the sudden noise and puff of smoke were enough to draw the eyes of the guards away from the parachute.

In coming up with this idea, Zim had his financial benefactor research other prison escape methods, none of which ended up being adaptable for this enormous facility. Tunneling out would have taken years and could have been discovered many times over the course of the digging. One escapee from Everglades Maximum Security Prison got away when his mother and friends rammed a Mack truck through three fences and an iron gate, but he and his accomplices were caught soon after. And prisoners had escaped numerous times by helicopter, but it was a risky bet because choppers could be heard coming from a mile away, and some of the escapes had been foiled not by the guards but by other prisoners rushing the helicopter and overloading it, preventing it from taking off. For his plan, Zim had to raise the bar.

The silent parachute wasn’t seen until the last seconds. Zim was counting on the guards thinking it was a wayward skydiver from a local club before they discerned that the object hanging from the cords wasn’t a person. That’s all the confusion Zim needed before the true contents of the package were revealed.

The five-foot-tall pack landed with a thump next to Zim, exposing it for only a moment before the parachute covered it. Zim rushed over to the pack and dived under the parachute. He’d been expecting it to be kited while he snapped open the pack, but the windless day gave him a little bit of extra serendipity. The blue cloak would keep the guards in the tower from seeing what he was doing.

Zim unclasped the metal latches on either side, and the hard plastic covering fell away, revealing the pack’s contents: a stacked quartet of quadcopters identical to the ones used in the Eiffel Tower attack. All he had to do was hit the button to launch each copter and then tag its target with the laser pointer. The autonomous robotic copters would use the infrared sensors to mark the target, store the location in memory, and guide themselves there.

Zim threw the parachute clear. He could feel hundreds of pairs of eyes on him. The melee had stopped, the participants mesmerized by the sight of Zim emerging from underneath the billowing chute. A few of them looked up at the sound of the approaching helicopter, but most of them kept their eyes on Zim.

He pointed the laser and clicked twice, then tapped the pack’s GO button. With the target locked in, the top quadcopter whirred to life, its propellers reaching maximum speed even before Zim could take his finger off the button. It zipped away on its fatal mission. Zim repeated the process, and the copter that had been below it followed suit. Within a couple of seconds, all four copters were buzzing toward their victims, one each for the two nearest guard towers and two toward the site of the prison melee.

Even an expert marksman would find it almost impossible to hit such a swift target. But Zim didn’t have to worry. Not one guard got off a shot as they simply watched the danger whizzing toward them.

The first copter went straight through the window and blew up in the middle of the tower room. A guard’s body went flying across the yard, landing like a rag doll next to the fence.

The second copter turned its target guard tower into a smoking ruin.

With the guard towers no longer a threat, the helicopter shot over the external fence as the final pair of quadcopters plowed into the crowd of men in the yard and detonated. Their screams were drowned out by the sound of the explosion. Those who weren’t felled in the carnage scattered in all directions, prisoners and guards united in a frightened stampede toward a safe location.

Time to leave.

The Bell Jetranger set down in the yard next to Zim, who jumped aboard while ducking automatic weapon fire now coming from the more distant intact guard towers.

As the helicopter lifted off, smoke billowed from the back. Zim saw the choking black soot and thought there could be no other conclusion than that the engine had been hit by a stray bullet.

* * *

Tyler and Harris were just turning onto the I-5 entrance ramp when Harris’s phone rang.

“Harris,” she answered, followed by a short pause, then “What? How?” She dropped the phone into her lap and hit the brakes so hard that Tyler was thrown against his seatbelt. Harris turned in her seat and shifted into reverse to back down.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“There’s an escape in progress at the prison.”

Tyler felt his stomach clench. “Zim. How?”

“Helicopter landed in the yard. One of the guards thinks he hit it.”

“Did they see which way it went?”

“North. The sheriff’s office is scrambling their air assets.”

“Then why are you backing up?”

“The Coalinga airport is northwest of the prison. Zim will know that the state patrol will set up roadblocks for miles around the prison. His best chance of escape is by air, and the helicopter will be too identifiable, especially now that it’s smoking.”

Tyler thought about it and knew Zim would be more careful than that. “The Coalinga municipal airport is too obvious. He’s got to know that the police would hurry to lock it down.”

“Then where is he going?”

Tyler remembered passing Harris Ranch on the way down. “There’s a landing strip by the inn. He must be meeting someone there.”

Tyler unrolled his window and stuck his head out. Sure enough, a Cessna was on final approach.

“Go!” he yelled. “We might have time to intercept them.”

Harris put the Suburban back in drive and floored it, activating the vehicle’s lights and siren. The SUV screamed up the ramp and hit seventy by the time they were on the freeway.

The Cessna buzzed past. It was only a few miles to the runway. If they didn’t reach the rendezvous in time to stop Zim, the Cessna could fly below radar into the Sierras, where it would be impossible to track. It could then land on any flat piece of land, and Zim would drive to freedom at his leisure. Alexa would never be safe until he was caught or killed.

Tyler scanned the sky to his left to see if he could spot the helicopter. It would be coming in low over the orange groves. For a minute he saw nothing. But he heard it. A low throb grew from the west.

The whirring rotors of the chopper appeared above the trees, and Tyler could see smoke streaming from its rear.

As it approached the highway, the helicopter flew erratically, dipping and weaving as if the pilot were having difficulty controlling it.

The Suburban reached the exit for the inn and restaurant, and Harris yanked the wheel over, streaking down the ramp. The Cessna was already on the tarmac at the end of the runway, turning to face south. All Zim would need to do was land, hop off the chopper, and board the plane, leaving the helicopter behind.

The throb of the rotors pounded behind them. Harris squealed around a corner. She’d have to make three more turns to the runway entrance.

Next to the restaurant was a Shell station where a cattle truck was refueling. Tyler watched as the gyrating helicopter overshot the runway and headed straight for the gas station.

Harris stood on the brakes as the chopper struck the cattle truck dead center.

The Jetranger dissolved into a ball of fire. The truck driver, who had seen the chopper coming, sprinted across the road and dived into a ditch just before the truck’s own tanks went up.

“Get down!” Tyler shouted, and he and Harris flung themselves as low as they could get inside the car.

The gas station’s underground tank ignited, creating an enormous shock wave that blew out the Suburban’s windows, showering them with pellets of safety glass. Heat poured through the open space.

After a few seconds, the explosion dissipated, though chunks of charred and raw meat from the destroyed cattle truck rained down on the SUV, smacking into the roof and hood with wet splats.

Slowly, Tyler and Harris raised their heads and took in the abattoir that used to be the Shell station. The pumps were gone, and the store next to it was a smoldering hulk. Tyler knew it would take weeks to sort through the various body parts strewn around the area, cattle and human mixed together.

Harris picked up her phone and made a call. “Harris here,” she said, her voice quaking. “Send fire and ambulance units to Dorris Street and I-5. Forensic units, too. We need to search for Victor Zim’s body.”

WORLD NEWS

Egyptian Foreign Minister Dies from Sudden Illness

By GAMAL HASSAN

June 19, CAIRO – Just a week after returning to Egypt from a summit in Paris, foreign minister Karim Abusir succumbed to an undisclosed disease after being rushed to Dar Al Fouad Hospital in Giza. He was 87.

The death comes at a critical juncture for Egypt. Mr. Abusir was one of the few members of the cabinet encouraging the president to refrain from a conflict with Israel as tensions continue to worsen. Although no attendees of the summit were killed in the Eiffel Tower attack on June 12, the repercussions from the incident continue to reverberate throughout the Middle East. Arab leaders are convinced that Israel was behind the assault, despite vehement denials from the Israeli government.

With six armored and eight infantry divisions of the Egyptian army moving into the Sinai desert and with Syrian forces gathering near the Golan Heights, the region is closer to a full-scale war than at any other time in the last forty years.

Part of the urgency seems to be related to the foreign minister’s untimely death. The Egyptian government has not commented on the nature of Mr. Abusir’s illness, but sources in the ministry suggest that foul play has not been ruled out.

Tyler appeared in Grant’s office doorway at Gordian headquarters looking like he’d only gotten a few hours’ sleep before taking the first morning flight back from San Jose to Seattle.

Thank God the Victor Zim threat was over yesterday
, Grant thought. If it hadn’t ended so abruptly, Tyler might have asked him to spend the night at his house to make sure Alexa was safe while he oversaw Gordian’s team investigating the helicopter crash. No telling what would have happened then.

Instead, as soon as Tyler had called with the news of the botched escape attempt leading to Zim’s death the previous afternoon, Grant was able to go home and take a long, cold shower. After retiring early in the evening, he slept twelve hours, something he hadn’t done in years. Even with all the rest, he still felt like he’d run a marathon. All those years in the ring and the Army must have finally been catching up to him.

As Tyler was driving in from the airport, he had called to ask Grant to pick up Alexa and bring her to the office so that Tyler could see her there rather than going home. When Grant arrived to get her, she gave him another hug and a peck on the cheek, one that was a little too lingering. Grant would have flirted with her shamelessly if she hadn’t been Tyler’s little sister. He restrained himself with only the greatest difficulty. Not wanting to encourage her, he kept his mouth shut on the drive downtown. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to let Tyler know.

“Welcome back,” Grant said. “Find any pieces of Zim?”

Tyler sank into the chair opposite and massaged his injured arm. “Not yet, but it’s a huge mess. It’ll take weeks to sort through. Unless we get a DNA match, I doubt we’ll identify the pilot from the remains we find. What wasn’t flambéed was mixed up with thousands of pounds of steer carcass chunks.”

Grant grimaced. “Sounds appetizing.”

“It’s strictly pasta for me for the next few days.”

“At least Alexa’s in the clear now.”

Tyler nodded. “I think so, but I’ll feel better when we have Zim’s remains. Where is she?”

“In good hands. I left her with Miles.”

“He’s in the office today? I thought he was in Phoenix.”

“Apparently he heard about what happened to you and came back early. He’s waiting to get the story.”

“We’ll go and see him in a few minutes. Did Alexa give you any trouble?”

Grant’s smile disappeared. Normally he could read Tyler like a book, but when it came to his family, Tyler could be cryptic.

“Trouble?” Grant said, trying to act casual. “What do you mean?”

“Did you see anyone suspicious? Anyone that looked out of place in the neighborhood?”

Grant breathed a sigh of relief and shook his head. “Nothing unusual. She thinks you’re overprotective.”

“With both Zims gone, I’m sure that’s the end of any potential vendetta, but I’m glad you were with her just the same.”

“No problem, man.” Tyler smiled, and Grant cringed at what was coming next.
Don’t say it. Don’t you dare say it.

“You’re one of the few people I’d trust with her,” Tyler said.

You said it.
Guilt tore through Grant even though he hadn’t actually done anything. The impure thoughts were enough.

Grant cleared his throat and changed the subject. “I got the report from our French division. The explosion on the tower that knocked you flat also took out the water main feeding the Salle Gustav Eiffel’s sprinkler system.”

Tyler frowned. “Carl Zim was trying to blow up the sprinkler system so that the fire would kill everyone in the reception?”

“Maybe. But if that was the case, his timing was pretty bad. The sprinklers started spraying long before Carl’s explosion took place. No way a fire could go anywhere after that. Everything was soaked, including me.”