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Are You Afraid Of The Dark :: Sheldon Sidney
Страница: 2 из 173His mind was focused on Prima and the astonishing news that was about to be released to the world.
The wind had begun to whip the rain into a frenzied maelstrom. Mark Harris shielded his wrist with his sleeve and looked at his watch. They were late. And why had they insisted on meeting here, at midnight? Even as he was wondering, he heard the tower elevator door open. Two men were moving toward him, fighting against the fierce wet wind.
As Mark Harris recognized them, he felt a sense of relief. "You're late." "It's this damn weather, Mark. Sorry." "Well, you're here. The meeting in Washington is all set, isn't it?" "That's what we need to talk to you about. As a matter of fact, we had a long discussion this morning about the best way to handle this, and we decided-" As they were speaking, the second man had moved behind Mark Harris, and two things happened almost simultaneously. A heavy, blunt instrument slammed into his skull, and an instant later he felt himself being lifted and tossed over the parapet into the cold driving rain, his body plunging toward the unforgiving sidewalk thirty-eight stories below.
Denver, Colorado GARY REYNOLDS had grown up in rugged Kelowna, Canada, near Vancouver, and had had his flight training there, so he was accustomed to flying over treacherous mountainous terrain. He was piloting a Cessna Citation II, keeping a wary eye on the snowcapped peaks surrounding him.
The plane was commissioned to carry a cockpit crew of two, but today there was no copilot. Not this trip, Reynolds thought grimly.
He had filed a false flight plan for Kennedy airport. No one would think of looking for him in Denver.
He would spend the night at his sister's home, and in the morning he would be on his way east, to meet the others. All the arrangements for eliminating Prima were complete, andA voice on the radio interrupted his thoughts. "Citation One One One Lima Foxtrot, this is the approach control tower at Denver International Airport. Come in, please." Gary Reynolds pressed the radio button. "This is Citation One One One Lima Foxtrot. I am requesting clearance to land." "One Lima Foxtrot, say your position." "One Lima Foxtrot. I am fifteen miles northeast of the Denver airport. Altitude fifteen thousand feet." He saw Pike's Peak looming up on the right side. The sky was bright blue, the weather clear. A good omen.
There was a brief silence. The voice from the tower came through again. "One Lima Foxtrot, you are cleared to land at runway two-six. Repeat, runway two-six." "One Lima Foxtrot, roger." Without warning, Gary Reynolds felt the plane give a sudden, high bounce.
The wind had begun to whip the rain into a frenzied maelstrom. Mark Harris shielded his wrist with his sleeve and looked at his watch. They were late. And why had they insisted on meeting here, at midnight? Even as he was wondering, he heard the tower elevator door open. Two men were moving toward him, fighting against the fierce wet wind.
As Mark Harris recognized them, he felt a sense of relief. "You're late." "It's this damn weather, Mark. Sorry." "Well, you're here. The meeting in Washington is all set, isn't it?" "That's what we need to talk to you about. As a matter of fact, we had a long discussion this morning about the best way to handle this, and we decided-" As they were speaking, the second man had moved behind Mark Harris, and two things happened almost simultaneously. A heavy, blunt instrument slammed into his skull, and an instant later he felt himself being lifted and tossed over the parapet into the cold driving rain, his body plunging toward the unforgiving sidewalk thirty-eight stories below.
Denver, Colorado GARY REYNOLDS had grown up in rugged Kelowna, Canada, near Vancouver, and had had his flight training there, so he was accustomed to flying over treacherous mountainous terrain. He was piloting a Cessna Citation II, keeping a wary eye on the snowcapped peaks surrounding him.
The plane was commissioned to carry a cockpit crew of two, but today there was no copilot. Not this trip, Reynolds thought grimly.
He had filed a false flight plan for Kennedy airport. No one would think of looking for him in Denver.
He would spend the night at his sister's home, and in the morning he would be on his way east, to meet the others. All the arrangements for eliminating Prima were complete, andA voice on the radio interrupted his thoughts. "Citation One One One Lima Foxtrot, this is the approach control tower at Denver International Airport. Come in, please." Gary Reynolds pressed the radio button. "This is Citation One One One Lima Foxtrot. I am requesting clearance to land." "One Lima Foxtrot, say your position." "One Lima Foxtrot. I am fifteen miles northeast of the Denver airport. Altitude fifteen thousand feet." He saw Pike's Peak looming up on the right side. The sky was bright blue, the weather clear. A good omen.
There was a brief silence. The voice from the tower came through again. "One Lima Foxtrot, you are cleared to land at runway two-six. Repeat, runway two-six." "One Lima Foxtrot, roger." Without warning, Gary Reynolds felt the plane give a sudden, high bounce.