Lost Empire (Fargo Adventures 2)

“Make sure the others understand the plan.”

Yaotl translated first to Nochtli, then to the guard in pigeon Swahili. Both men nodded. Yaotl said, “Where will you go, Mr. Fargo? If you knew how to fly you wouldn’t have been talking to the pilot. If you stop now and surrender—”

Sam interrupted. “We’ve had enough of Nightmare Island. We’re leaving, and we’re taking our bell with us.”

“The bell . . . Is it so important you are willing to die for it?”

Remi spoke up. “Is it so important that you murdered nine tourists for it? Sam, he’s stalling us.”

Sam nodded. “Keep an eye on them. I’m going to see about making those carts disappear. Yaotl, take the laces out of your boots and give them to me.”

Yaotl bent over, removed the laces, balled them up, and tossed them forward. Sam retrieved them and walked to the golf cart. Thirty seconds later, the steering wheel was locked down by one of the laces. Sam released the parking brake, braced his arms on the front bumper, and pushed the cart over the crest of the hill, where it started rolling on its own. After a few seconds it disappeared into the darkness. He then repeated the process with the Cushman, and returned to Remi’s side.

“Ready?” he asked.

“A relative term, that.”

“I don’t know how quickly we’ll get a reaction once the light goes out, so let’s be quick.”

Sam watched the Big Eyes on the roof until they moved toward the light pole. Remi stopped him. “Hold on, Sam.” Then to Yaotl and the others: “Turn around and face the helicopter.” The group complied. “Now look up and stare at the light.” Again the group complied. She said to Sam, “To ruin their night vision.”

Sam smiled. “Yet another reason why

I love you.”

Through his binoculars he watched the Big Eyes on the roof until they were pointed to the southwest, then strode forward, knelt beside the light pole, took a breath, and slammed the edge of the machete into the power line. There was a hissing pop and a shower of sparks. Sam jerked his hand back. The light went dark.

Remi asked, “Are you all right?”

“Yes, but it got my attention. Okay, let’s go.”

They separated, walking clockwise and counterclockwise until they were facing the group. “Walk toward us,” Sam ordered.

Blinking and shaking their heads against the sudden loss of their night vision, Yaotl and the others started forward. With Remi in the lead and Sam walking backward, his H&K trained on the group, they began moving toward the helicopter.

“Twenty feet away,” Remi told Sam. Then, “Ten feet.”

Sam stopped walking. “Stop. Spread out,” he ordered. To Remi: “I’m doing preflight.”

“I’ve got them covered.”

Sam tossed their packs into the cabin, then opened the pilot’s door and climbed inside. Using his penlight, he scanned the controls and panels, doing his best to ignore the Eurocopter’s dizzying array of options and concentrate on the essentials. After thirty seconds he’d found what he needed.

He flipped on the battery switch. The interior lamps and control panel glowed to life. Next he turned on the fuel pump, followed by the auxiliary power switch, which began the prestart of the turbine. After a few seconds of whining the turbine kicked in and began to spool up. The rotors begin turning, slowly at first but with increasing velocity as the rotor RPM gauge began climbing.

Sam leaned out the window and said to Remi, “Collect their guns.”

Remi passed the order on to the group and, one at a time, each man stepped forward and tossed his weapon into the helicopter’s cargo cabin. Using hand signals, she backed them up until they were just outside the helicopter’s rotor radius.

In the cockpit, Sam saw the rotor RPM hit a hundred percent. “Time to say good-bye,” he shouted to Remi.

“Gladly,” she yelled back and climbed aboard. With one eye trained on the group, she shoved the weapons into the safety webbing on the bulkhead.

“Grab ahold of something,” Sam called.

She wrapped her free hand around the webbing. “Done!”

Sam tested the helicopter’s cyclic control between his legs, then the collective stick at his side, gauging the blade pitch, then finally the antitorque foot pedals until he had a feel for them. He engaged the collective, and slowly the helicopter lifted off. He tested the cyclic, moving the helicopter first left, then right, then nose up and down.