‘Map references?’ Mike stared at the boy for a moment, then turned to his co-pilot. ‘Say, you hear that, Ricardo? This guy doesn’t belong to some chicken-shit organization; he’s got some damned map references!’
Ricardo smiled feebly. ‘A professional,’ he yelled back.
‘Damned right. This kid knows exactly what he wants.’ Mike glanced down between his feet, where the stock of the sawn-off shotgun lay inviting his touch. It seemed a strange irony. Mike had always kept the thing there, all through the war and on every flight since, believing that one day something like this might happen. Now it had, he was afraid to use it with Helen in the cabin. He would have to get her out of harm’s way first. He turned back to look at the boy. ‘And supposing, sonny, I was to say to you that on no account am I going to alter this plane’s course. Then what would you say?’
The boy shrugged. He moved forward until he was standing directly behind the co-pilot’s seat. He pushed the barrel of the gun up against Ricardo’s neck and cocked the trigger. Ricardo gasped and glanced helplessly across at Mike.
‘First, I will kill this man. Then your stewardess here. And if I have to, then I will kill you.’
‘The plane won’t fly without somebody at the controls, boy,’ observed Mike. ‘What use would it be to you then?’
‘No use at all. But, see, I don’t think you will let me go that far. I don’t think you want to see your friends die. And believe me, I will kill them … if you are stupid enough to put me to the test.’
There was a long silence.
Then Ricardo spoke, his voice clumsy and guttural with fear. ‘Mike, I think the kid means it,’ he gasped.
‘I’m sure he does, Ricardo,’ Mike nodded. ‘All right, take the gun out of my co-pilot’s neck and hand him those Goddamned references. Calm down, Ricardo, nobody’s going to get hurt if I can help it. Have a look at the kid’s instructions and let’s see where he wants to take us.’ Mike glanced up at Helen. ‘You all right, honey?’
She nodded dumbly. Mike turned back to face the boy. ‘Kinda young to be pulling a hijack, aren’t you?’
The boy shrugged. ‘Old enough, senhor … and don’t go gettin’ no fancy ideas about me, because I’ve killed a lot’ve men who figured I was too young to handle this gun.’
Mike nodded. ‘Oh yes, I’ll bet you have. You speak good English for a caboclo … a college kid, I shouldn’t wonder.’
‘Que Diabo!’ exclaimed Ricardo suddenly. He glanced up from his charts. ‘These figures would take us way north-west of here … ain’t nothing out that way but a few savages and a hell of a lot of jungle.’ He glanced at Mike. ‘It’s Mato Grosso territory … I’m not even sure offhand if we’d have enough fuel to make it that far.’
‘You got enough fuel,’ snapped the boy. ‘You started out with eight hundred and four gallons. You keep in cruise and conserve it properly, you’ll make it with just a little in reserve.’
‘The kid’s done his homework,’ observed Mike dryly. ‘But like Ricardo says, if there’s nothing out there –’
‘There is something out there! You think I’m louco, huh? There’s an airstrip, cut out of the jungle. It’s rough but it will do to land this old crate on. I know it’s there, because I helped to build it … but if we’re going to make it there, we have to change course right now. Understand, Capitão?’
‘Yes, I understand.’
The boy stepped forward again and jabbed the gun barrel against Ricardo’s neck. ‘Now you give an order,’ he snapped at Mike. ‘And make it the right order or you’ll be scraping this guy’s head off the windscreen.’
‘All right, take it easy. Ricardo, you do like he says.’
‘And don’t try anythin’ stupid like headin’ off in another direction,’ added the boy. ‘I can read a compass pretty good.’
‘You’re a talented kid,’ said Mike sarcastically. ‘With everything you’ve got goin’ for you, I’m surprised you don’t just fly the Goddamned plane yourself.’
‘Shaddup!’ The boy watched the compass needle closely as Ricardo brought the plane around onto its new course. ‘That was a shaky turn,’ he observed when the manoeuvre was completed.
‘I don’t fly so good with a gun against my head,’ Ricardo sneered.
The boy reached up an arm to mop his forehead again. Then he glanced over at Helen. ‘Hey you! C’mere … yeah, c’mon, I ain’t gonna hurt ya.’ He grabbed her wrist as she stumbled uncertainly forward. ‘Now listen, lady, those people back there, they’re gonna start wanting drinks and things; so here’s what we’re gonna do, OK? You’re gonna go back out there like nothin’ in the world has happened, you’re gonna act like it’s just a normal flight. Anybody gets suspicious, you throw them off, see, ’cos if anybody tries to come through that door before I want them to, I’m gonna kill one of these guys.’
Helen nodded. She glanced down at Mike and he gave her a reassuring smile. ‘Do just like he says, honey. Don’t worry about a thing; it’s going to be all right.’ He reached out and squeezed her hand gently.
‘All right, all right, that’s enough.’ The boy jerked his thumb back at the exit door. ‘Get out there and remember what I told you.’ He backed slowly away from Ricardo, swinging his gun back and forth to keep both pilots covered. When his back was against the wall, he reached out his left hand and opened the door so that he was hidden behind it. Then, with an abrupt flick of his head, he signalled Helen to go out.
‘Pretty girl,’ the boy observed casually as he slipped the door’s heavy bolt into place. ‘You guys use your heads and she’ll stay that way. We don’t want to have to kill anybody, we just need the plane.’
‘I take it you’ve got fuel at this strip of yours,’ said Mike. ‘This thing won’t be much use to you without it.’
‘Sure, we got fuel.’
‘What do you want the plane for?’
‘That’s our business.’
‘Uh huh.’ Mike turned around to the boy. ‘And what about us … the passengers and the crew? You really trying to tell me that you plan to let us go after we land?’
‘Sure, why not?’
‘It just doesn’t seem very likely, that’s all. We’ll know where your base is; we’ll be able to recognize members of whatever tinpot political group you belong to. Seems to me that out there in all that jungle … well, I figure it’ll just be a case of a few more unmarked graves.’
The boy laughed harshly. ‘Well, I guess I really don’t know what the plans are about that. But I think you’d better start hoping that the people I work with are in a good mood when we arrive. Right now, all I want you to do, is fly.’ He moved across and prodded Mike roughly with the gun barrel. ‘You think you can do that?’
Mike leaned forward slightly to peer down at the stock of the shotgun tucked away between his feet. He licked his lips. ‘Oh yes,’ he murmured softly. ‘I think I can do that.’
Martin was running down a long fleshy tunnel, its walls misty and ill-defined; but at the far end of it, the tarantula stone glittered enticingly, spinning around on the empty air like some mysterious alien planet. It seemed to have grown in size, as large now as a football, and within its glittering heart the spider pulsed, its body seeming to rise and fall as though it were actually breathing. He concentrated all his