Turbulence by Nance John J

Author:Nance, John J. [Nance, John J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: thriller, Adventure, Suspense, Mystery
ISBN: 9780399148477
Amazon: 0399148477
Goodreads: 262984
Publisher: Putnam Adult
Published: 2002-04-29T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

KATSINA AIRPORT,

NIGERIA, AFRICA

8:30 P.M. Local

Jean Onitsa stood beneath the nose of the Meridian 747, marveling at the incredible size of the machine. He had flown on such aircraft, of course, numerous times. But passengers seldom confronted the gigantic size of the airplane from the surface of a ramp, and it was awe inspiring.

He glanced over his shoulder, impatient for the man he’d sent to the bullet-riddled terminal to return with the type of headset he needed to talk to the crew sitting some forty-five feet above. The man was back, now, screeching the jeep to a halt and running to his commander with the headset apparatus in hand.

Jean thanked him politely and reached up to find the small box on the side of the nose gear where he’d seen crewmen plug in headsets before. His experienced eyes meanwhile were simultaneously tracking his men as they maintained a bead on the enemy from a dozen positions around the aircraft. There had been no more firing, and he intended to keep it that way until deciding how best to use this new, unexpected prize.

“Captain, this is the ground,” Jean said, spacing his words carefully, both the depth of his education and the girth of his huge chest resonating in his broadly pronounced consonants. There was a pronounced African sound overlying his English, of course, but his mastery of the language was as complete as his formal education in Britain.

There was no response from above, and once more Jean reached up, this time pressing the call button several times until a startled male voice coursed through his headset.

“This is the cockpit.”

“Very good. Is this the captain?”

“Yes. Who are you?”

“My name is General Jean Onitsa. I’m the commander of the forces that now control this airport, and you, ladies and gentlemen, are my hostages. So you’ll forgive me if I ask how many people are aboard.”

There was more silence on the headset, and Jean suppressed a grin. There would be wide-eyed confusion in the cockpit as the pilots tried to figure out what was happening.

“Ah,” the voice came back, “we … we came in here, General, because we had a fire in one of our engines and had to shut it down. We were hoping to find a mechanic.”

The officer Jean had commissioned a major arrived at his side, his face full of questions and his eyes huge as he approached the incomprehensible scene of his commander talking on a headset to the occupants of the 747 while the government troops undoubtedly had their rifles zeroed in on him. Jean Onitsa always wore bulletproof body armor, but his head and legs and arms were still vulnerable.

Jean smiled and motioned for the major to be quiet. “Captain, you say you had an emergency. Did you declare that emergency?”

There was another hesitation before the voice from the cockpit said yes.

“Very well, then, I cannot hold you, can I? Nigeria is a party to the international conventions regarding distressed airmen, and I shall respect that once I control this country.

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