John Nance - Headwind

“Sherry?”

She raised a finger to her lips and pointed to the phone, and Craig covered the transmitter with his hand. “What’s up?”

“The President’s lawyer is asking that you please reveal to no one that he’s still aboard. You haven’t, have you?”

“No,” Craig replied, looking at Alastair, who shook his head as well.

“Please don’t. I’ll be right back.”

“What is he thinking?” Craig asked.

“I don’t know,” Sherry said as she turned.

Craig pulled at her sleeve as she turned to go. “Wait! I was just getting ready to try to charter this aircraft as President Harris asked.”

“Hold off. Please!” Sherry said, turning to leave again and pulling the cockpit door closed behind her.

Craig sighed and shook his head as he raised the handset and promised the director of flight operations he’d call back in a few minutes.

“Bang on!” Alastair said suddenly when the connection had been broken. His face brightened into a broad smile.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Bang on, I said.”

“I know what you said. It’s what you meant that has me baffled. More Britspeak?”

“It means how bloody clever! They couldn’t get the President on that C-17, but if they pretend they did, the men with the warrant go away.”

“Pretend…”

“Yes. Pretend! He’s not here, eh what? He sneaked out in plain view. We could probably fly back to Rome, discharge everyone, and go happily on our way and no one would pay the slightest attention to his presence. Of course, they’ll be there to shoot us , but that’s another story.”

“But the passengers…”

“Probably haven’t seen a thing since Fat Albert left.”

“Fat Albert ?”

“The C- 17.”

“No, no, Alastair. We called the C-5 Fat Albert. I don’t know what strange names they have for the seventeen.”

“Whatever. He’s gone. That’s our story and we’re sticking to it, as the country-and-western song says. Bloody brilliant.”

“Mr. Rollins? Jay Reinhart here. Have you said anything to the media yet about President Harris not leaving Sigonella?”

There was momentary silence on the White House end of the call.

“No, but we’re in the process of planning a release, and an explanation. Why?”

“I… suppose I can understand why President Cavanaugh decided not to pull President Harris out of there…”

“His reasons are sound, Mr. Reinhart, although I must tell you, completely off the record, that I was disappointed, too… that it didn’t work out.”

“It still can.”

“No, the decision’s made and the aircraft has…”

“I know that,” Jay interjected. “But we still get most of the benefits if, for a few hours, at least, we let the other side of the equation believe he’s on that C- 17.”

Jack Rollins repositioned the phone receiver and sat down behind his desk. “Go on.”

“I talked to Peru’s lawyer. He called me immediately after the C-17 left, and he was assuming that President Harris was aboard. I fed that assumption without actually saying so, and the upshot is, the lawyer, Campbell, and the Italian forces that were there to make the arrest are probably leaving. As long as they think President Harris is gone, I have a chance to engineer a civilian escape.” He explained the idea of chartering the 737 and was gratified at Rollins’s immediate response.

“The main reason the President canceled the operation, Mr. Reinhart, was the damaging message it could have sent. I doubt a little temporary charade would be a problem for him, as long as we clear it up at the other end.”

“Thank you. What will you say?”

“Don’t know, but I’d better get off this line and stop any releases. They’re headed for the press room as we speak.”

Sherry Lincoln returned to her seat and sat down heavily, her head swimming with a mélange of hope and worry. She picked up the receiver to ask Jay Reinhart to wait while she briefed the President, but there was no answer – although she could hear Jay talking in the background against the slight hiss of the satellite connection. The bill for all the calls would be in the thousands, she figured, but Harris could afford it, and the thought of trying to deal with this nightmare without instant communication was a nightmare in itself.

She turned to John Harris and explained Jay Reinhart’s idea and what they were doing to support it.

“You are kidding?” he asked at last with a skeptical expression.

“Not in the least. Why?”

He smiled as he stroked his chin and looked away. “I suppose it could buy us some time, Sherry, but I’m still in the crosshairs of that warrant. And there’s the not so insignificant matter of the other passengers.”

“The passengers are going to be off-loaded here in a minute as soon as we have you stashed in the forward galley.”

“Why don’t I just duck into the cockpit?”

“Italian journalists have telephoto lenses, too, and even through a cockpit window your face is familiar.”

“Good point.” He looked around carefully over his left shoulder before turning back to her. “Now? Should I go up there now?”

Sherry rose up to see over the seatbacks behind them. She nodded. “Go, sir. Keep your back to the curtain when you’re in there, in case anyone tries to peek.”

“I’ll brief Matt and have him stand guard.”

The President got to his feet quickly and moved toward the galley, motioning to Matt Ward to follow as he slipped past.

Jillian had remained in the rear cabin with the other two flight attendants trying to keep tempers under control. Craig briefed her by interphone, then quickly left the cockpit to talk to Captain Swanson.

“I need to get these folks off the plane, sir. We’ve hidden the President in the galley.”

“We have a military terminal right next to the ramp, you know,” Swanson replied. “We can keep them in there for at least a few hours until you tell me what your company wants to do.”

“Can some of your guys get their baggage off?”

“Sure. I can make that happen.”

“How soon can I off-load the people, then?”

“Right now, if you like.”

“In five minutes, then.”

“You got it,” Swanson said.

“Thanks, Captain,” Craig said, starting to turn away as the senior Navy officer placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Look. The objective here is to protect the President. Unless I’m ordered to do something else, I’ll support you any way I can, but I’ve got to warn you… and I know you’re former Air Force…”

“Current Air Force, sir. I’m a major and a pilot in the active reserves. That’s… kind of why I got myself into this to begin with this morning. Protecting the President. I’ve essentially lost my job for doing all this.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, but I respect your sense of duty, Major. I just wanted you to understand that I could be ordered by my commander to change course and do anything from impound this airplane to God knows what. If it’s legal, I’ll have to obey.”

“Understood, sir.”

Craig moved quickly back to Sherry Lincoln’s seat and knelt down. “Are you ready for us to off-load them?” he asked.

She nodded. “But one other favor, please. We want to charter the aircraft, but instead of the President being the client, it would be his staff doing the chartering. Tell your company we’ll either wire money to them or use an American Express.”

“I’ll make the call, but that’s a lot of money, Sherry. We could be talking thirty, forty, fifty thousand dollars, depending on how long and where.”