Past Imperfect

in. Hector's presence behind him made him uneasy. A final soupcon of tension he could have done without after the mounting panic of the day. Duclos felt his stomach in knots, his nerves breaking close to the edge.

Dominic got back into his car, starting her up. He moved forward, starting to turn… then suddenly stopped. He looked thoughtfully back at the runway fifty metres ahead, its long expanse of darkness and the planes and hangars at its end.

'What's he doing?' Duclos hissed. A frozen silence with no answer between them in the confined darkness of the cockpit. Only slow breathing, waiting. Then: 'Oh God… Jesus!' As Duclos saw the lights straighten, start to head towards them.

'Go… Go!' Hector shouted. 'Get going!' He took out a gun and waved it, though the pilot was unsure if it was as a threat or to fire at the oncoming car.

The pilot started up and jolted forward, completing the turn quickly so that they were in line with the runway. Then he throttled up high, starting to roll forward furiously.

The car had almost covered the fifty metres of tarmac beyond, was approaching the beginning of the runway…

The plane shook and rattled as they picked up speed. The pilot knew that once the car had covered half of the runway, it would be too late, they would be blocked from take off. He bit at his lip. It was going to be close.

80… 90…. He watched the speedometer climb quickly to over 100 kmph. But he could see that the car had already covered almost quarter of the runway.

'Are we going to make it?' asked Duclos. He was trembling, though he wasn't sure if it was more fear of collision or them not getting away.

'I don't know.'

As the reach of the car's beam hit them, the pilot switched on his own lights. A stronger marker of their own presence, hopefully intimidating, a deterrent. The car seemed to falter slightly before picking up speed again. The second car had also now started following, was just touching the start of the runway.

'Don't worry,' Hector said. 'As soon as he sees we're serious, we're not stopping — he'll back off.' But his undertone wavered; even Hector now wasn't sure.

As the airplane lights hit Dominic, he'd braked slightly on impulse — it suddenly appeared more ominous, threatening — before steeling himself again.

His first intention had been purely to investigate the planes and hangars ahead, so one of the planes moving suddenly from the group had surprised him. Turning quickly to panic as he realized it was turning, positioning, was starting along the runway. Making a bid for escape!

He knew in that second with certainty that Duclos was inside.

If he could get close enough to block their passage, they would be forced to abort take off. But he could see now that they weren't easing back His own speed was edging over 90 kmph, and the plane was probably nearing 170, 180… rolling furiously towards take off.

The first twinge of fear gripped him. If they collided at that speed, there would be little chance of survival. But Monique's words rang in his ear: '… do you think that it would be any easier to face me — knowing that you've let the man responsible escape?' But it wasn't just Monique… the other faces long etched in his mind burned home stronger in the glare of the plane's lights… Christian, Machanaud… as if they too were somehow depending on him. No!.. No! He'd chased Duclos for too long, too many lives affected — he couldn't let him go now! He kept his foot down hard, powering on…

'He's crazy!' Hector screamed as the car lights raced towards them.

Duclos said nothing, was too afraid, his simmering panic of the day reaching a crescendo. Almost catatonic, a nervous dribble crept from the corner of his mouth, his whole body seeming to tremble in time with the shuddering of the plane as it screamed forward. The engine's roar, the fast approaching lights, the shaking and rumbling — a cacophony of sound and light which suddenly made him realize it was all going to end here. Here on this runway in a ball of flame! His whole body was bathed in sweat. But part of him perversely almost welcomed the oblivion — an end to all the panic and madness, the running and hiding and chasing. He couldn't go on any more! Nerves screaming: End it… Yes, end it! I can't face another second… A crooked smile crossing his face as it dawned on him that Fornier would also be consumed in the fireball.

'We're not going to make it!' the pilot screamed.

'Keep going… keep going!' Hector shrieked, pointing his gun. This time it was a threat.

Ninety metres… eighty… seventy… The distance closed rapidly between them.

Gerome… Monique. Duclos standing outside his house waiting to give the assassin his blood money! Dominic gripped the steering wheel tight.

The pilot suddenly saw a niche, a slim chance. If he turned a fraction at the last second, the car would hopefully sweep past under the wing. He looked to the side, judging height quickly. It would be close — but probably their only chance now.

A monster! All those lives. So much destroyed. Duclos escaping was unthinkable. Dominic headed straight for the airplane's searing lights.

The pilot tilted the wheel slightly to the right, and felt the first lift under the wings practically at the same second.

Forty metres… thirty…

Dominic saw the veering in direction almost too late to react, sudden panic that the plane might sweep past him and escape — and he turned the wheel sharply. Too sharply. He felt the back swing around and the car slide into a spin, tilting heavily. It skidded inexorably forward with tyres screaming for almost ten metres before the tilt finally verged into a sickening roll — and Dominic saw everything spinning… the plane's lights, the car roof and side window, the seat and floor, shards of glass suddenly showering down around him and swirling as he thought: Gerome… Monique!

The first roll of the car cut sharply into the side of the plane's windscreen view, but with the second roll the pilot could see the car was heading straight for them, its frame starting to fill the windscreen… but they were lifting… lifting... the nose edging up above the dark ominous shape.

The pilot felt the thud as the car hit something below them, then the violent shuddering and shaking through the joystick, fighting to keep control as the plane dipped and wavered. He thought for a second they were going to nose-dive straight down and crash, but the wavering quickly righted, they started to lift again.

Oh God… Monique! Dominic's last thought as darkness finally swallowed up the cataclysm swirling around him. If anything happened to Gerome and now him, she could never face it. She would be practically alone.

500 ft… 1,000. Steadily climbing, the lights of the coast starting to appear in the distance below. The pilot looked out briefly for damage. He could see fuel dripping back from below one wing and checked his gauge. It was probably a slow leak, but enough to stop them making it to Portugal. They might have to put down beforehand. But the thud had been one of the struts or possibly the landing wheel. If damage was bad, they might not be able to put down.

An electrical spark caught on the fumes from Dominic's carburettor, a small fire starting… but in his inner darkness all he could see was the single candle flame burning, flickering across Monique's gentle profile. And as the flames became more intense, starting to catch the dripping petrol all around him, he was back in the wheat field searching for Duclos. The gendarmes were tapping forward with their canes, but Poullain had ordered them to torch the wheat field ahead. He was sure that Christian's murderer was still hiding in the field, and the flames and smoke would help flush him out. But Dominic was also concealed among the long sheaves, on his knees searching for the coin as the flames came close, starting to lick all around him… growing panic as he felt the searing heat and realized the fire had surrounded him, there was no way out.

As the plane touched 2,000 ft, they saw the car's explosion in the distance below, as if someone had lit a runway bonfire to mark a landing point. A slow smile crossed Duclos' face.

As the explosion came, a jolt went through Monique's body. A feeling of dread as if something terrible had