Princesssa

Chapter 10 Bat Out of Hell

Andy turns the car onto the main highway and soon they’re coming near a small city, the one where Jori boarded the train. “Should I call ‘em back” asks the girl, trembling a bit. “Sure” he tells her, not knowing if that’s a good idea, not knowing what else to say. She dials the number and gets a recording; then nervously tries to dial 9 twice but messes up the numbers as her hands are shaking; finally she gets through.

“Hello” says a far off expressionless voice. “Grandpa” says the girl “is everything okay?” “We’re okay” he says blankly. “What’s going on” she asks, starting to feel shaky all over “where’s… Freddi?”  The king hesitates, with no words to explain it to her, then asks “can I speak to Mr. Korzene."

“No” she says, with tears in her rising voice “tell me what’s going on; I want to talk to Freddi, okay.” “Please” says the king “don’t worry, we’re all fine; I just need to talk to… Andre.” She pushes the phone into his hands feeling like being betrayed by Judas; not understanding why, but shaking all over just the same.

“Yeah” says Andy. “Mr. Korzene… Andre” says the king “thank you... keep Maria safe, please. I’ll be in touch… when, we get everything sorted out here.” His voice is weary, tired. Andy knows the voice, the sound. It’s the battlefield voice of even when you’ve won, you’ve lost, because now you gotta go pick up the pieces, put them in bags, write the letters. Telling yourself “better you than me, pal” but actually wishing it’d been you instead of that poor young kid, going home to mom now, in fragments.

The phone indicates ‘call ended’ and Andy starts to hand it to the girl, but puts it into his shirt pocket instead. She has her hand over her eyes and is shaking there in the car between the two young men. Zoltep looks over at Andy who nods to him. He puts his arms around the girl and draws her to him and she begins to cry and shake uncontrollably. “You stupid fucking soldier boys” she says “who would ever want to know you; any of you, you just… oh, fuck all of you.”

Andy drives the car through the dark quiet town to the north end and up to the main hangar of a small airport. He stops and they get out, instantly surrounded by armed men. “Puts your guns down” he orders them in a loud voice “I’m Colonel Valtos" says Andy "we’re here on official business.”

Inside the building he goes up to the man by the flight desk while Zoltep gets a coke from the machine and lights another cigarette. The boy never lets go of Maria and sits down in a chair along the wall with her beside him. “I need a plane” says Andy giving the man military orders “I don’t have any time for anything else, a plane and a pilot, now.” “We’re on red alert” explains the man “the country is…under attack.”

“I’m Captain Andre Korzene, that’s Maria Salin. We’re getting out of here, now.” “I can’t just do that” says the man “you have to understand.” Andy pulls the pistol from the back of his belt and puts it up to the man’s eye “do I look like a terrorist?” he asks. Maria looks up from her chair “it’s okay” she says “we need to… relocate to a secure area.” Her voice is sad, painful, repeating those same stupid phrases you here on the tv when something is tragically wrong.

“I’m a pilot” says a young man approaching them from the group of standby alert personnel. “There’s a plane… outside in one of the hangars.” “Ilban” says the man behind the desk “you can’t just do this.” “I’m going to” he says “quit jerking around; can’t you see…”

Andy lowers his gun and walks toward the door motioning for Zoltep and Maria to join him. The young pilot turns to go with them as the others look to the man at the desk. “It’s okay” he says, and then louder “it’s okay, let them go” and adds to himself “fuck it, I don’t know what the hell’s goin on anyway; goddamn it.”

The pilot leads them through the darkness over to a hangar, and unlocks and pulls open the large sliding doors that rattle and screech in the soundless night. He clicks on his flashlight and shines the beam over toward the little twin-engine plane sitting there in the middle of the large dark room. It’s creepy, eerie, like a foggy night when you’re lost at sea, escaping on a life boat from the Titanic or something, or running from ghosts in a bad dream.

He helps the three passengers climb up and into the little plane, then starts up the engines and prepares to taxi out onto the runway. No pre-flight check, no lights, nothing. “How much fuel” asks Andy, pointing at the instrument panel and yelling over the high-pitched whine of the engines. “Where you wanna go” asks the man. “Damascus.” “Maybe” he answers, checking the gauges again.

He steers the plane out to the darkened runway as a voice comes over the radio “you wants the lights?” The pilot considers this; “no” he answers. He runs the aircraft down the runway to speed. Then pulls back on the wheel as they bump up over the buffeting air and lift off into the black starless night.  “Oh… shit” they all kinda say in unison. “Well” says the pilot, relaxing his tense grip on the wheel and drawing in a deep breath “that worked.”

“Can you fly this thing at night” asks Andy.” The pilot breathes easier and checks his compass against the few lights of the town below “we’ll make every attempt to do just that.” Checking his watch and the gauges on the brightly-lit instrument panel, he adds “sit back, and enjoy your flight.” The plane veers to the left and then climbs to altitude.

“Show me how to fly this thing” says Andy. “No problem” says the pilot “but you’re going to be a bit busy navigating, okay? Got to… use time and distance; no radio, safer that way. But… is a bit, of a challenge, on a night like this.” He smiles at Andy and then checks his watch again. Andy sees him do that and looks at his own watch “0-two, 0-five” he says, loudly. “Hack” says the pilot. For reasons of their own, both men keep their watches current to GMT at all times.

Once they’re at altitude and their ears have popped and then adjusted to the noise and the sensation of flying blindly through a black hole or a crack in the universe, the pilot begins to explain things to Andy who quickly assimilates what he feels is essential and discards the rest. The pilot can sense this and decides to change the subject before he becomes irritated “there was a train wreck… south of town.”

“Yeah” says Andy looking out the window at the impenetrable blackness. The pilot continues “apparently, no one was seriously injured. They say it was miracle.” “Miracle my ass” says Zoltep from the back seat “see, I told you.” “He’s good with fireworks” says Andy. The pilot is intrigued, but not surprised, having figured his passengers were involved in or closely connected to the things that were going on.

“We also…heard on the news, that the palace was attacked.” “What did they say” asks Maria, impatiently sitting forward and poking her face in between the front seats. “Again” says the pilot “no serious injuries… just some minor damage.” “Those assholes” says the girl “those motherfuckers.”

“It’s a standard thing” says Andy “standard press release. They aren’t, gonna say anything to…get people all worried or upset.” “What’s going on?” asks the pilot, aware of his unique connection to the inside of everything that was happening to their country. Andy looks at the man and understands his feelings, wanting to know, things that maybe you have a right to, maybe you don’t; but he’s also very grateful that the young pilot had the nerve to get them out of there.

“Terrorist stuff” he says “they want us to…see things their way.” “And…” asks the pilot. Andy sizes up the man beside him, as he’d been trained to “are you military?” “Civilian reserve” says the man “but I flew…for the army a few years ago.” “Then you’ll need to think like army from now on. Contingency plans for non-combatants, wife and kids, whatever; rations, stores. You got armaments for this aircraft?” “I suppose” says the pilot “you could probably put a spotter in the backseat; and a sling-mounted gunner.”

“You people” says Maria, tired and sad “this is like… a video game to you… those are human beings, out there; not… targets of opportunity.” “It’s just a way” says Andy “a way to keep your mind off the fact that those are human beings; and they have lives, and wives and children, and pets; and they want their futbol team to win, just like anyone else; and nobody… wants this.”

The girl feels stung by that, and it hits her that it isn’t just her that doesn’t want all the soldier boys coming home all shot up and killed. They probably don’t want that either; but for some unknown reason, they just keep on doing it; and like the Dylan song “the desk clerk says it happens every day” and it just doesn’t stop or make any sense at all. After a bit, she and Zoltep fall asleep to the droning sound of the little plane all alone in the all black universe.

As the plane drones on, the pilot begins to wonder about little things like flight plans, clearance to fly through foreign air space, that sort of thing. “What are we gonna do” he asks “when we get there.”

“You’re not thinking army” says Andy “we’ll land, somewhere, get you refueled. We’ll catch a train, or something, to the city. You’ll fly home, defend my homeland for me, and for your wife and kids.”

Andy can never see obstacles or barriers in the way, just little hurdles you have to jump over from time to time to get to where you wanna go. Then he asks the pilot “I’d like a charter…to the states; you know anybody?” The pilot considers for a moment “I’d uh, go with Chrysillas, out of Cyprus. They’re, black-market, but dependable.” “Can you set it up?” “Uhm… I can give ‘em a call when we’re on the ground.” “Good; tell ‘em you got a couple of Japanese businessmen going to Tokyo; we’ll change course once we’re up.” “Sure thing” he says. “Okay, good. So is it okay if, I get some sleep?” “Only if you trust me with your life” says the pilot.

He flies along through the terrible blackness without even running lights, not even the cluster on the instrument panel, just all dark inside and out. Straining to see city lights below at approximately the correct time according to airspeed and maps. Like fucking Charles Lindbergh, he thinks to himself, though Lindy didn’t have the royal princess asleep in the back, along with a couple of crazy young fellows who hopefully are government agents of some sort.

The pilot assumes that no one will bother to scramble jets to intercept some lost little plane flying without clearance over their airspace. He hopes they have enough fuel to get where they’re going, wherever that is, and hopes he’ll see his wife and kids again, and forget all about this little adventure. He lets his mind go blank and fixes on the uneasy task of straining to find the lights down below in the ceaseless droning of the aircraft engine that experienced pilots don’t even hear anymore.

It’s ghostly now, haunting to be the only one awake, the only one alive in the black void. It takes him back to the army days, like it or not, and the torture of hours past midnight wanting nothing but sleep and somebody warm to curl up with. He checks his watch more and more often now and each time the luminous dial shocks his eyes and the time barely moves at all. He looks back over his shoulder at the young girl asleep in the back, so pretty and soft and sweet. But not nearly so much as his lovely wife at home with the kids; maybe worried sick about him now as he flies full speed away from them and down into this long deep well endlessly rushing to nowhere.

This is the time when you wish you were dead but don’t want to be. Just somewhere else, anywhere; or someone else, one of those asleep and at peace with the night. Not the one here, the only one who always ends up pulling the load and doing what has to be done. He’d had enough of that in the little spotter planes in Afghanistan. The bad weather and mountains and rugged terrain, and never knowing if you’re going to make it back or not; and the hours and hours on end like sapping the little time you have right out of you. And you tell yourself you’ll do it, and do your job, and then be done with it and never have to go through that again.

And here it is, come following him home, right to his very doorstep. The phone call calling you to come and stand on alert, and wait for the war to come right up to you. Well he’s into it now, deep as it gets, up to the tip of his nose and carrying the most prized possession of their whole little country here in the backseat of the plane. Such a pretty little kid, he thinks, can the whole weight of our nation ever rest on those tiny shoulders. Well, her grandfather’s a strong tough man; and a decent sort at that…but they’re just too small a country, too tiny to compete in the world of giants; just get stepped on, and squashed, like a bug; and nobody even notices or cares; got their own stuff to worry about.

He checks his watch again and flies along through the maddening dark, trying to think of what it’ll be like when all this is over, and he’s back home and they’re all so happy to be together again. And run up and jump into his arms, so relieved and delirious with joy to see him again, laughing and crying and safe, back from the war. And he can even tell them about how he met the little princess and flew her to safety and all that sort of stuff; but mostly just wanting to be back there with his wife and kids.

It goes on forever ‘til you don’t even think anymore, just all blank from the mechanical movements of doing this job and the bleary eyes and mind all shot from the strain and the lack of sleep. After a few hours that seem like a hundred, he wakes up the man beside him. “We’re there” he says. Andy looks up and out into the blackness “what... where?” “Wherever it is when you’re out of fuel.”

“Good” he says, stretching and coming out of his sleep. They’re flying a few hundred feet above a desolate highway that has a few lights here and there on either side. A small town maybe a mile or two up ahead, judging from the lights. “Should I wake them” says Andy. “Nah, unlikely we’re… won’t land okay.”

He picks out what appears to be a level stretch of road and sets the plane down with a few bumps and bounces and continues down the road still running at speed and with the lights on now ‘til they reach the edge of the town. Zoltep and Maria wake up. “Where are we” she asks. “Never-neverland” says Andy “get ready to go to work.”