Operation Sabre Page 3

  After the flight checks were complete, the captain came back to speak to the three of them.

  ‘Nice to meet you Paul, Sharav and Rachel,’ she smiled.

  ‘Yes, good to meet you too,’ said Paul. There was something about the pilot that made him feel uneasy.

  ‘So, we’re off to London?’ smiled the pilot.

  ‘Yes,’ said Sharav, moving around in his seat. ‘I hate flying. Do you have a lot of experience?’

  ‘Yes,’ laughed the pilot. ‘You’ll be perfectly safe. Okay well enjoy the flight, it will take about an hour and ten minutes to get there… If all goes to plan,’ she said over her shoulder, as she returned to the cockpit.

  Two minutes later a couple of men came onto the flight and with thick Eastern European accents, introduced themselves as Kevin and Jock. They kept the introductions short and sat near the front.

  Shortly after a quick safety demonstration from the air steward, they were in the air. They had been airborne for ten minutes when Paul’s watch vibrated, prompting him to put in his headphones. Hugo greeted him saying, ‘Paul, how are you today? My data tells me that Sharav has an increased heart rate and my measurements reveal an increased level of adrenaline. You might need to calm him down.’

  Paul looked over at Sharav’s red face and bulging eyes, ‘That’s pretty obvious,’ he thought. ‘Sharav are you okay?’

  ‘No, I’m not okay! We are 28,000 feet in the air. That is 5.3 miles above the ground in case you didn’t know. The pilot looked like she wanted to kill me, there are two dodgy blokes sitting up front. And we are off to some crazy spy camp, which is ridiculous’.

  Rachel and Paul looked at each other and smiled.

  Hugo said, ‘Let me gather some additional information to provide Sharav with some reassurance… checking…’ Five seconds later the watch vibrated again.

  ‘Paul, I don’t want to alarm you, but I have some information which might be of use to you.’

  Paul tried to stay calm as he waited for the news.

  ‘It would appear that you have been led onto the wrong flight. You were due to leave on the R600 flight at 7.25pm. However, you are on what would appear to be an unscheduled flight which left at 7.10pm. My records tell me that this plane was sold by a Russian billionaire six months ago, to an unknown buyer from Algeria.’ Paul’s respiratory rate increased.

  By this time Rachel was looking across at Paul, noticing the change in his demeanour. Hugo continued. ‘I have alerted headquarters and will brief you once a plan has been formulated. In the meantime, please stay calm. It would appear you have a full bladder. I would suggest you visit the men’s room. I find life is better with an empty bladder, wouldn’t you agree?’

  Paul dutifully visited the bathroom, keeping the news to himself.

  On his return, Paul thought through all the possible scenarios. Who was that pilot? Those men seem tough. Were they flying to London? Could it be Algeria they were headed for?

  His watch buzzed again, and he put in his headphones.

  ‘Paul, hello,’ said Hugo. ‘Please direct your friends to put in their headphones.’ Paul did so and soon they were all listening to the same message. It was William.

  ‘Hello, you three,’ William said cheerfully. ‘So, I’m not sure if Paul has filled you in but it would appear that you are on the wrong flight. To put it bluntly, you have been abducted. It would seem that you are heading in the direction of South America. Perhaps to Colombia or Venezuela. You will soon be flying over Ireland and then across the Atlantic.

  After the initial shock Paul smiled and said, ‘Good one William. Is this like one of those crazy initiation things?’

  ‘Paul,’ William said, ‘I am deadly serious. This is real.’

  6

  The Fall

  Paul, Rachel and Sharav looked at each other in disbelief.

  Sharav said, ‘But we haven’t even been trained yet! I would at least have liked a ‘welcome to the club’ speech before we have to deal with dangerous, crazy dudes who want us dead in Columbia!’

  ‘Listen Sharav,’ said Paul, ‘no-one said anything about dying.’

  Rachel nodded ‘Yep, Paul’s right, there will be a way out of this.’

  The air steward walked up the aisle and offered them a refreshment. She was taken aback when Paul declined. Sharav and Rachel asked for a soft drink. After the drinks had been served, Paul leaned forward and whispered, ‘We can’t take anything they offer us. They might want to drug us so we don’t notice how long the flight is taking.’

  Sharav pushed his glass to one side and sighed. ‘This plan better be good!’

  Just then, their watches buzzed in unison.

  ‘Right you three, I convened the Lynx emergency committee. We have debated various rescue missions and have concluded that the scenario which provides us with the greatest chance of surv… success is operation Kellner’.

  Rachel interjected, ‘Okay great, so how are you going to get the plane down safely? And does it involve fighter jets?’

  ‘No, sorry,’ said William. ‘Scrambling jets is too high profile. We need literally to keep this under the radar.’

  ‘Operation Kellner,’ said Paul. I’ve heard that name before. Doesn’t Kellner hold the Guinness world record for …’

  ‘Skydiving,’ said William.

  ‘OH, WAIT A MINUTE!’ shouted Sharav, getting the attention of the two men at the front of the plane. He put his head in his hands and whispered, ‘Tell me the plan doesn’t involve skydiving’.

  ‘Okay listen carefully,’ said William. ‘The plan involves skydiving. If these men are who we think they are, they will take you to South America and you won’t be seen again. You need to get out of that plane before they exit UK and Irish airspace. Our options are limited after that. In forty minutes, you will be over the Atlantic Ocean. Currently you are ten minutes from Dublin. We have analysed the schematics of the plane you are in. It’s a Legacy 500 and there is a storage cabin in the rear of the plane that holds five parachutes. We will be directing a commercial jet towards your plane, which should force the pilot to drop to 14000 feet. This is a safer height for you to jump without oxygen.’

  ‘I really hate heights,’ whispered Sharav desperately. I really don’t think I can do this!’

  ‘Sharav, yes you can,’ said William. ‘You don’t have a choice. Well you do have a choice but believe me, staying on the plane is the worse option.’

  Paul was beginning to feel strangely exhilarated by the idea. He said, ‘We need to know how to skydive.’

  ‘Yes,’ said William. ‘And you don’t have much time to learn. We are uploading a video to your phones. Please watch the five-minute video carefully. You then have seven minutes to locate the parachutes. I want you jumping out over Dublin if at all possible. We will soon have one of our agents in a helicopter. He will guide you down to the drop zone. The target is St Stephen’s Green. Ever been there? It’s lovely. Okay, watch the videos and remember your watches can help you.’

  They spent the next 5 minutes frantically trying to focus on the tutorial video. The threat of jumping out of a plane in 12 minutes was an extremely effective learning aid. Once they had finished, Paul took a deep breath and casually walked to the rear of the plane to locate the parachutes. Rachel spent a couple of minutes trying to soothe Sharav. On Paul’s return, he said, ‘Okay found them. I’ve put the parachutes beside the toilet.’

  Paul looked at Sharav, whose pupils were dilated, his head moving slowly from side to side.

  ‘Sharav are you okay?’ he asked.

  ‘Oh yeah, I’m lovely,’ Sharav said, slurring his speech and stroking the coat beside him. ‘I mean, have you seen my cute chubby gerbil? I think my favourite animal would be a lovely, fluffy gerbil.’

  Rachel’s eyes widened with panic, ‘Sharav, you seem drunk!’ She darted a look at his glass and realised that half of the drink was gone.

  ‘He drank the coke!’ she said, looking at Paul.

  ‘Oh, what! We
still need him to jump.’

  ‘Gerbil, geerrrbilllll, He He. I like to say Gerrrbillllll. Bonk.’ Sharav’s limbs moved like they were made of rubber. He looked from one side of the plane to another and then giggled. ‘I like this rainbow place. Oh, Paul… you are a unicorn. And your eyes…. They are soooo big and squishy. Can I squish your eyeballs?’

  Paul stared at Sharav and then glanced at his watch, ‘Okay we need to get him to the toilet, we only have five minutes.’ Paul and Rachel pulled Sharav to his feet and guided him towards the back of the plane. The men at the front looked around questioningly and Paul shouted, ‘He’s not very well, we just need to visit the bathroom.’ The men nodded and turned back in their seats. As they reached the toilet door Rachel let out a scream. Paul turned around quickly to see the larger of the two men with his hand on Rachel’s shoulder.

  ‘He okay, yes?’ the man said with his thick accent.

  ‘Yeah I think so,’ said Paul.

  ‘I use toilet before him, yes? I don’t want him make mess in toilet.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ said Paul. ‘He’s really in a bad way, wouldn’t want him puking over the leather seats in here would we?’ Paul was desperate to get to the parachutes in the toilet before they were discovered.

  Sharav laughed, ‘I likey pukey, puke, puke… makes me laugh. Paul puke for me? Make me happy?’ Sharav threw an inane smile toward the giant man. ‘Do you likey puke? It’s fun to lose your cookies?’

  Something registered on the man’s face and he said, ‘I go first.’ He pushed the three of them aside with one easy movement. Paul looked around frantically for a large object to hit him with. Before he could do anything, Rachel had taken her watch off and whispered, ‘volts’ into the microphone before throwing it at the man’s back. The effect was instantaneous. He was thrown forward with such force that his body was hurled through the toilet door, taking it off its hinges, and his head smashed off the toilet. Just then, the plane took a nosedive and Rachel, Sharav and Paul lurched forward into the back of two leather seats. The plane was taking evasive action, in an attempt to avoid colliding with the commercial plane. Paul was holding onto Sharav to stop him slipping further down the plane away from their means of escape.

  ‘Weeeeee,’ squealed Sharav.

  Paul shouted to Rachel ‘We’ve got to get those parachutes on. Only two minutes before the jump.’ Rachel nodded as they started to clamber towards the toilet. The plane had begun to level off, which made the job of directing Sharav easier. ‘I’m hungry Paul,’ Sharav said to him. ‘Can you get me some jelly bellies?’ He let out a cackle and said ‘Jeeellyyyy Bellllieeeees.’

  ‘Sorry pal, no jelly bellies tonight.’

  Sharav looked in his direction and frowned. Then he started crying, ‘No Jelly Bellies. No sweeties for Shazza. No SWEETIES for Shazza, WAAA!’

  ‘Shush,’ said Paul. ‘Listen I’ll try to find you some Jelly Bellies. Just give me a minute.’

  ‘Okay then,’ grinned Sharav.

  Rachel anxiously looked at her watch, ‘We have one minute!’

  They worked together to clip Sharav into his parachute and then quickly pulled their own packs on. As they finished, they saw the second man stride towards them. Paul pushed Rachel and Sharav towards the exit. He scanned the door and read, ‘Danger. Do Not Touch.’ ‘Now or never,’ he shouted. Then he reached for the handle, pulled it up and twisted. The air rushed into the plane and all three were sucked out into the night sky.

  7

  Dublin

  Paul, Sharav and Rachel found themselves in free fall over Dublin. Paul was tumbling uncontrollably with the light of the moon flashing in his eyes every half second. Finally, he managed to stabilise himself and was falling stomach first. The sharp air cut through his thin jacket and he felt the discomfort of ice crystals forming in his nose. Then an anxious pain in his chest. Sharav. Paul looked to his right. He caught the white glint of Sharav’s teeth as he tumbled through the air. Was he smiling? Paul remembered the video that told them to free fall for approximately 60 seconds before deploying the pilot chute. Paul looked at the altimeter on his watch. 10,000 feet. He knew he had to stop Sharav tumbling before the chute could be deployed.

  ‘Come on Paul, focus… stay calm,’ Paul thought to himself as he recalled the steps in deploying the parachute. To deploy the main chute, he had to pull the black handle on the lower right-hand side of his rig. If the main chute didn’t work, the reserve chute could be released by pulling the white handle on the left-hand side. Paul took some comfort in knowing that there was an automatic activation device that would automatically deploy the parachute if they were still falling when they got to 1000ft. Then it hit him. He got a horrible sick sensation in his stomach. None of them had turned on their automatic activation device. This was okay for him and Rachel, but Sharav was still drugged and there was no way he could pull any handle. Paul looked down at Dublin. The bright web of streets was racing towards them. He looked again at his watch, 5000 feet. This was the height they were due to break away from each other. He had to get to Sharav.

  Paul leaned to his right. It was possible to manoeuvre in the air. He leaned further. The g-force wrenched him from his position and he hurtled towards Sharav, narrowly missing the top of his head. ‘Okay,’ thought Paul, ‘small movements.’ He leaned gradually left and found himself heading in Sharav’s direction again, faster than he would like. Paul stretched out his arms and legs and managed to smash into his friend. He desperately grabbed onto his backpack. With a huge effort he moved Sharav onto his stomach. From the corner of his eye he saw a flash of an orange parachute shoot upwards. Rachel was safe. ‘Where is that agent?’ grunted Paul out loud. He glimpsed at his watch. 2400 feet. ‘Should have deployed at 2500ft,’ thought Paul. Sharav was trying to turn around. He was trying to say something. He turned his head and gave Paul a huge grin. Paul’s left hand lost his grip on Sharav and they were torn apart. ‘NOOOOOOOOOOOO’ shouted Paul. He looked at his watch again ‘1500feet’. Paul knew that his last chance of saving both of them was to deploy at 1000ft. The distance between the friends was growing. Paul could feel his heartbeat through his entire body. He looked on, powerless to do anything.

  ‘We need help,’ shouted Paul.

  Suddenly a green luminous object flashed past Paul and smashed into Sharav. Before Paul knew it, he had to lean left to avoid Sharav’s parachute. With huge relief Paul pulled his own black handle and his parachute deployed.

  The green luminous object turned out to be the agent. ‘You’re late!’ shouted Paul, but his voice was lost in the rushing wind. All the energy suddenly drained from Paul. ‘Got to concentrate,’ Paul thought as he looked below towards the landing site. The agent’s chute was bright green, so he was easy to follow towards the dark park below. Paul looked down on St Stephen’s Green and he got a fright. The lake on the north side of the park narrowed in the middle and was divided by a bridge. It was as if he was being drawn towards two dark, monstrous eyes below.

  Luckily it wasn’t windy so Sharav continued to glide down towards the park. The agent was heading for the circular green section in the middle.

  Paul followed the agent to the drop zone. As he got closer, he realised he was headed for the fountain. It was unavoidable. Paul’s legs caught on the side of the fountain and he fell face down into the water. Rachel followed but landed perfectly on one of the sections of grass beside the ‘keep off the grass’ signs.

  The agent unclipped his chute and walked towards them.

  ‘How are we lads?’ asked the agent. ‘I’m Conor, Conor O’Sullivan’. Conor looked about twenty years old. He was of medium build, six-foot-tall and had bright ginger hair. He had a friendly face that was covered in freckles.

  ‘We are fine,’ said Rachel. ‘And we aren’t both lads, I’m actually a girl’.

  ‘Ah sure I can see dat,’ laughed Conor with a strong Dublin accent. ‘Ye did well up der. Sure, you were absolutely fantastic.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Pau
l, struggling to get the rig off his back.

  Conor reached over saying, ‘Sure look it, you unclip it here and der ya go’. The pack slipped off Paul’s back.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Paul relieved to have rid himself of the pack and perhaps the trauma of the last ten minutes.

  ‘You look a little white der Paul,’ said Conor. ‘I’m tinking you might be experiencing a bit a shock. Need to get you some surgery tea.’

  ‘Yea,’ said Paul. The nausea grew in his stomach and there was an ache at the back of his head.

  ‘Right so we better find your pal. Paul you sit here while we go and get him. Actually here, eat dis.’ Conor reached into his pocket and pulled out a Mars bar and handed it to Paul. ‘You’ll be grand after dat. Wait here’.

  Paul sat on the edge of the fountain, glad to get some time on his own. He put his head between his legs and took some deep breaths. The park was deserted and the only noise he could hear was the nearby traffic.

  Ten minutes later Conor, Rachel and a rather bedraggled looking Sharav returned. Rachel had linked arms with Sharav and was directing him towards the fountain.

  ‘It was easy to find him,’ said Rachel. ‘These watches are amazing. We found him swinging in one of the trees quietly singing ‘Humpty Dumpty.’

  ‘Nothing wrong with a bit a Humpty Dumpty,’ smiled Conor.

  Sharav burst out laughing, pointing at Conor and putting on an Irish accent, ‘to be sure…. a bit a Humpty Dumpty.’

  Rachel looked at Paul. ‘It would seem that there is nothing funnier than Conor’s accent.’ She guided Sharav to sit beside Paul. Paul put his arm behind him to ensure he didn’t lose his balance and fall into the water.

  ‘Isn’t dis lovely now,’ said Conor looking around St Stephen’s Green. ‘Lot a history here, ya know. I love a bit a history, let me tell ya a bit. So, during the Easter Rising of 1916 about 250 insurgents set up in St Stephen’s Green. Dey nicked some motor vehicles to set up roadblocks around de park. But in de end, it wasn’t so clever. The British Army just walked into the Shelbourne Hotel over der, went up to de top floor and started shooting down at dem. So, dey had to leg it. Stupid really.’