Page 67 of Air Force One
His clear explanations and absolute calm made him the perfect counterpart to Holly’s energetic efficiency. And it was easy to see the connection between them, even without the telltale signs of Holly’s dishevelment. Mike, on the other hand, looked very smooth and handsome as he peeled off his working clothes. Beneath them, he wore a pilot’s black slacks and white shirt. Stepping into the small crew rest area between cockpit and galley, he extracted the captain’s spare coat and tie.
By the time the ambulance could be heard approaching, Mike dressed as the pilot, and Holly the local airfield worker, were manhandling the ill copilot down the stairs. They gave him a glass of water that had a distinct pink hue.
The man was violently ill again just as the ambulance arrived.
Then, in an accent as backwoods as any Circassian farmer, Holly began griping about him. “This kachok from otvali Moscow, curse it’s very existence, just puked all over the lady’s plane. Now this fucking pilot want my sorry ass to clean it up, like I’m their suka. I’m no jock strap’s bitch, especially not one who should piss-off back to Moscow.” She spit on the fresh pile of vomit that had splashed on the copilot’s shoes. “Let me say that about why I’m all of a sudden everyone’s suka.” She slapped the miserable man on the back of his head as his stomach rebelled again.
Inessa didn’t know whether to be furious that she’d hit the poor man or laugh because he wouldn’t remember it happening.
“One can’t have two deaths,” Holly started the proverb about being bold in one’s actions…and twisted it. “But I wish this one had died before he puked all over the plane. Get him out of my sight before I clean the carpet with his face.”
Under her continuing harangue, Mike never managed a word before the ambulance hauled the poor man away.
They returned up the stairs.
“Hi, Inessa.” Holly said in a perfectly normal voice. “I would offer you greetings from your Little Sister—but she doesn’t know you’re coming yet. I didn’t want to disappoint her if I got us all killed first.”
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“Inessa, you need to change.” Mike seemed to be the keeper of logistics. “Get your blue case and dress very warmly. Put only what you must keep in that knapsack. Will there be plenty of other evidence that you were on this flight?”
By the time she nodded, Mike had disappeared into the cockpit. Holly ducked outside. As Inessa proceeded to the luggage area at the back, she could see Holly clearing the electrical cable from the plane, tossing it on a heap of others, then tossing aside a pair of wheel chocks. The outer door thunked shut before she even had the blue case opened.
She hurried through the change, though she stumbled many times as the plane maneuvered along the taxiways. The pavement had been bumpy on arrival, but not this bad. Maybe Mike was using a different taxiway.
They sat still at the end of the runway long enough for her to put on every layer until she felt as fat as a sumo wrestler. She would soon expire of the heat if this took too long.
Back in the cabin, she pulled her laptop and her black address book from her handbag and put them in the knapsack. When she began to add her phone, Holly shook her head.
“Anything critical on there?”
“No. Just my normal list of addresses and phone numbers.”
“You’re dead, you don’t need them anymore. But, they need to see your phone never move again after this flight.”
Inessa set it back on the table with great care. She set her favorite handbag next to it.
Holly was giving the pilot another bluish drink.
“Will you overdose him?”
“I don’t think so. My friends were fairly clear on what I should do.”
“Your friends?”
And Holly didn’t answer. Of course not. Because Inessa had taken neither the blue nor the red pill, neither illusion nor reality. Instead, she had crossed into a limbo land where assistance came from people she’d never met and whose names she would never know.
She finally nodded her understanding. The only sound was the idling of the jet’s engines and a soft adenoidal snore from the pilot. “Is there a reason we haven’t departed yet?”
“Mike!” Holly called out.
“Yeah. Yeah. Okay. I’m going already.” But still it was thirty long seconds before she heard the engines begin their spin up to full speed.
“Nerves,” Holly rolled her eyes.
“Nerves?”
“He’s a bit freaked out by your plane. He’s never flown one this big before.”
