“Of course they are and I’m sure you’ve heard the reason for the early departure. It’s unavoidable I’m afraid,” replied Kano.
“Well I hope that’s true,” said Hibbert and walked away despondently.
They boarded the aircraft and as Lela, Kisho and Kano gawped at the huge cabin space, Tom turned left and made directly for the cockpit. It was uncanny. Everything was exactly the same as his simulator. This was going to be a piece of cake. Kisho and Kano loaded on their equipment and the ground crew removed the stairways and cleared the ground to allow the aircraft to taxi for take-off.
Fortunately, thanks to the design of the cockpit and the sheer size of aircraft, the ground crew could not see the young pilot at the controls. Kisho sat in the co-pilot’s seat, while Kano and Lela prayed to whatever Gods were listening.
Tom made his way to the head of the runway, Kisho doing all the talking to the control tower. The timing was perfect, the airport was deserted and the passengers who had been due to depart the following morning were tucked up in bed probably dreaming about their trip. Unfortunately for them, they were going to be disappointed. At 2.30 a.m. local time, 12.30 a.m. in London, Tom pushed the throttles to full power. The engines began to whine as the power increased and the plane fought against the airbrakes. As the plane hit full power, Tom released the brakes and the very light monster almost took off prematurely such was the force of the engines on the empty aircraft. The jolt sent them all firmly back in their seats as the plane forged its way along the 14,000 ft runway. Within seconds, the plane had reached its take off speed and they lifted gently into the night sky. Tom was flying!
As he levelled off, he hit the intercom button.
“Sorry about the takeoff. I usually practice that with a full aircraft and this is empty,” announced Tom.
Lela and Kano were in a trance. Tom’s voice was excited but calm and that probably meant that they were not going to die just then. They were ecstatic to be alive, at least until landing. So they cheered, weakly.
Tom set the co-ordinates on the auto pilot, sat back and relaxed. In just under eight hours, they would reach their destination, Masirah a small island off the coast of Oman and home to the Royal Oman Air Force. A phone call to Zafir, the son of the Sultan of Oman had resulted in the provision of a secluded airbase. It was perfect for landing a ‘borrowed’ super jumbo and was just within the fuel limits of the small jets which were flying in from Kota Kinabalu.
Tom’s plan, Operation Retribution, was now well underway.
Part Five
Chapter 58
The islanders’ Citation Xs landed before the A380 and taxied into a far corner of the airbase just as the A380 made its final approach. It was 12.30 p.m. local time and 8.30 a.m. in Glasgow.
Kano and Lela were terrified. The last eight hours had been uneventful but overshadowed by the prospect of landing. Lela could not think beyond the simulator disasters which had involved many dramatic landings, most of which had been fatal. In her state of panic, she had decided to share these stories with Kano to try to ease her own stress levels. They didn’t and only resulted in terrorising Kano further.
Kisho looked across at Tom. Although not an airline pilot, he was a flyer and as far as he could tell, everything was fine. He had heard that the bigger the plane, the easier the landing. This had something to do with the cushion of air which formed under the huge frame of the aircraft as it came in to land. This flight would prove the theory, or not.
Tom could not believe how easy it had been so far. The plane had brought them there itself and if the airport systems had allowed, it would have landed for them too. He thought to himself that he should have gone for a landing at the main commercial airport where the auto landing back-up was available. However, that would have brought other problems, such as having to explain the unexpected appearance of the world’s most notable airplane at a major international airport.
The descent so far had been straightforward, slow and steady. As they got closer to the ground, Kisho called out the altitude, “300, 200, 100…” Before the plane was about to make contact with the ground, Tom flared up its nose and the plane landed effortlessly. The air cushion had done its job. The back wheels were followed closely by the front wheels and as the weight of the aircraft was in their favour they quickly came to a stop. As the front wheels touched down, Tom hit the Intercom button, ever the professional.
“Welcome to Oman, Ladies and Gentleman, the local time is 12.30 p.m. and the outside temperature is a lovely twenty four degrees centigrade. Thank you for flying Tom Kennedy Airlines, we hope you enjoyed your flight and will choose to fly with us again soon.” He had been rehearsing that in his head for hours.
Tom was almost deafened by the screams of joy from the seats behind him in the main cabin. Kano and Lela had been in each other’s arms hanging on for dear life as they had come into the final approach. Until Tom spoke, they had not even realised that they had landed, such was the quality of his touchdown. Both were amazed and screamed with sheer delight.
They taxied to the area which had been set aside for them and once the stairway was attached, they disembarked and went off to find the islanders who should be waiting in the hangar. Tom walked into the hangar and was impressed. His contacts, once again, had not let him down. In the ten hours since he had made the calls, a mass of equipment and intelligence had poured into the hangar. Tom was certain that because everything had been organised by a network of children and nothing had been done through official channels, it was very unlikely that the terrorists would have been informed of their actions.
In one corner of the hangar were a number of charts displayed on the wall. These were schematic diagrams required for Operation Retribution. In another corner, were the weapons generously supplied by Zach and his network. They had obtained the latest and best weaponry available. In another corner, a communications centre had been established to enable up-to-the-minute news from around the world. In the fourth corner, was a bank of bunk beds and a large seating area full of islanders. There were also rows of tables filled with food. Tom was amazed and phoned Zafir to thank him again for all of his help.
Lela’s grandfather went over to hug the four of them. Kano and Kisho then spotted the food, made their excuses and headed towards the tables.
“It’s so good to see you Papa!” Lela said to her grandfather, as she hugged him.
“Now, now, Lela. Your father will be fine, don’t worry. These people have messed with the wrong family. Tom, let’s go through that plan of yours, over there with charts. Kano, Kisho, stop stuffing your faces and come here.”
Kano and Kisho jumped to his side. When the islanders’ leader spoke, everybody obeyed.
The next hour was spent poring over the charts while they waited for the rest of the islanders to arrive from their various army postings around the world. At 2.00 p.m. local time and 10.00 a.m. Glasgow time, the last plane expected at Masirah landed, it was a small private jet from Cyprus. As Papa called the islanders to order, Tom’s phone rang.
“It’s him,” he announced to the group around him.
Silence descended on the hangar.
“Hello?” Tom answered.
“Hello Tom. How are we getting on?” said Reaper.
Tom thought quickly on his feet, checking his watch.
“Good thanks. We’ve just finished at the High Commission and are on our way back to the airport.”
“So you got your travel papers?”
“No problem at all. I had some cash and greased some palms.”
“Good boy. Now just make sure you get on that plane and get here in plenty of time. Mummy’s counting on you,” said Reaper as he ended the call.
Tom turned to his audience.
“I’m so going to enjoy wiping the smile off of that git’s face.”
The first group came forward for their briefing with Tom. He plugged his handheld PC into a large overhead
