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“Why the hell would she change her flight plan?” Luke demanded, taking it. The man shrugged. Rapidly, he read the sheet, verifying Addis Zemen was her landing airport. “Something isn’t right.”
General Hakym got back on his end of the call, and Luke updated him.
“I just ordered one of our Black Hawks readied to overfly that area,” he told him. We’re only twenty minutes away from Zegye by helo.”
“We’d like to come along,” Luke said.
“We have room for you.”
“Are you armed?”
“Yes, fully.”
“Good,” Luke growled, “we’ll be there pronto.” He turned to Shep. “Let’s hoof it over there across the revetment.”
As Luke ran, Shep at his side, and they neared the Black Hawk, his satellite phone rang. Slowing, he pulled it out of his knapsack and clicked it on.
“Gibson here.”
“Luke! It’s Willow! I need help! I’m at Zegye. I crash-landed the Otter. Tefere David and Zere hijacked me. They forced me to land at Zegye! I-I’m on the run. They’re after me! I need help right now!”
Shep froze, hearing her voice. He saw Luke’s eyes go hard as he listened intently to the call.
“Where are you at right now?” he demanded. “Give us some coordinates! I have one of Hakym’s Black Hawks here, ready to fly us to the crash site. We can redline this bird and get to you in no time.”
“I-I…,” and she cursed, her voice low. “I’m hiding in some bushes. I went north-north-east from the touchdown end of the runway. I crashed the bird there on purpose. Zere is dead, but David and his soldiers are going to track me for sure and hunt me down. They’ve got two white Toyota trucks, three men in the back and one driver in each, and they’re heavily armed! My cell phone is damaged, so I can’t give you coordinates. Please, hurry!”
“Okay, what landmarks can you see?” Luke pressed.
“I—oh, I’m in deep woods. I have my compass. At least I know my coordinates, nor’-nor’-east. I’m going down a slope. About a mile ahead, it looks like the woods give way to scrub brushland. Does that help?”
“Anything will help. Do you have your personal cell phone on you?”
“Y-yes.”
“Turn off the sat phone and use that, instead. Is it fully charged?”
“Fully charged every night,” she whispered, breathing hard. “But the screen is cracked from the crash.”
“Doesn’t matter. Turn on its location tracker,” Luke told her. “I’ll be able to find you. We can track you that way.”
“Good idea,” she huffed, trying to catch her breath. “Okay, it’s done. Is it showing up?”
Shep knew that cell coverage was not that reliable here in Ethiopia, and he silently prayed the idea would work. The woman he loved had crashed her plane on purpose. She was in trouble, and he didn’t want to stand here waiting, but Luke had to get a fix on her location.
“I got it,” he said. “Now? Leave your phone on and put it in your go bag. Wear it like a knapsack. Keep up the evasion tactics. Try and stay in the dense-forested area. It’s harder for them to see you or your movement. Don’t step on any fallen branches. The crack will alert them to your position. Got it?”
Breathing hard, she whispered, “Y-yes, I’ll be careful… is Shep there?”
“He is. He’s coming with me. But let’s ring off for now. We need to board this helo.”
How badly Shep wanted to talk to Willow; tell her he loved her, unsure if he would ever see her again. They raced across the revetment area to the Black Hawk, whose blades were already turning. Luke leaped on board and went straight to the general, who was piloting the bird. He knelt between the two cockpit seats and thrust the GPS printout at Hakym. The general took the paper, placing it on the cockpit console in front of him, and the co-pilot started punching in the numbers. Almost instantly, the air crew chief shut the door. The helo was powering up, blades turning faster and faster. Everyone on board was in full military gear, bearing U.S. M4 rifles.
The air crew chief handed them helmets equipped with ICS, Internal Communication System, allowing everyone to talk and be heard over the brutal noise of the helo. Once the helmets were on their heads, Luke said into his mic, “The general has two spare M4 rifles and magazine vests onboard for us to use.” He turned and one of the soldiers handed him the heavy weapons vest containing four magazines for the M4 rifle he would be using.
Shep grabbed the other vest, with its own ammo, and shrugged into it, the acceleration of the Black Hawk taking off pressing him heavily into his jump seat at the rear of the helo. He was used to wearing a mag vest, so it felt just like being back in Afghanistan, once again. As soon as he was strapped in, Luke handed him an M4. Shep, familiar with the weapon, quickly went through the procedure of checking the rifle while they flew; slapping a magazine into it, loading it, and checking the safety was on. Luke did the same, and then sat cross-legged on the vibrating deck as the Black Hawk flung itself high and fast into the early morning sky.
The smell in the cabin of sweaty soldiers and the vibration of the helo were familiar and comforting to Shep. He tried to keep his terror in check. How close was the enemy to Willow? Had they spotted her yet?
