The Osprey soared ahead in its helicopter configuration.
August was not so much concerned with speed as being able to track the chopper. If the pilot decided to change course abruptly, August wanted to be able to adjust accordingly.
The Colonel had also ordered his radio operator to maintain silence. The less information the LongRanger had about who was on board or why, the less likely he was to dig in his heels. There was nothing more antagonizing than a faceless, voiceless adversary.
The pilot adjusted the Osprey’s altitude so that it was flying one hundred feet higher than the LongRanger. He bore down on the helicopter, sweeping east or west as it moved with the river. Obviously, whoever was at the controls knew how to fly but not how to navigate. He was following the river to get away.
The Osprey closed the gap, bearing down like a storm, fierce and unstoppable. The LongRanger pushed itself but wasn’t able to pull away. In less than two minutes the Osprey was on top of it. The LongRanger tried to move aside, but each time it did the larger aircraft moved with it.
All the while the hoist crew worked quickly to ready their equipment. When it was finally done, the crew chief radioed the cockpit.
“Senior Airman Taylor is ready, sir,” said the pilot.
Colonel August pulled on gloves and nodded. “Tell him to open the bay. I’m coming back.” The pilot acknowledged the order as August opened the cabin door and crossed the fuselage. Wind tore through the cabin as massive gears churned and the underbelly door opened. The canvas covering the ribs of the fuselage whipped violently on both sides.
August moved quickly despite the wind. Once a team was primed it was a bad idea to keep them waiting. Waiting was to energy like cold was to heat: it sapped it.
August arrived as the men were checking the hooks on their parachutes. “We ready to go?” he asked.
The men answered in the affirmative.
August had outlined the plan when he had first boarded with Manigot and Boisard. Taylor was going to lower Manigot fifty feet straight down, just beyond the horizontal stabilizer to the crosspiece halfway between the main cabin and the tail assembly. There was enough room behind the main rotor blades to accomplish that. The only real concern they had was a five-to-eight-second period when the airman or the cable above him was directly behind the main rotor. If the LongRanger slowed or angled up or down during that time, Manigot or the cable could be sliced to pieces. If the chopper moved at all, Manigot was to release the cable immediately, parachute down, and the mission would be aborted. Otherwise, once both men were on the tail boom, they would make their way to the landing skid and enter the cabin.
At least, that’s how it was supposed to work. They’d done simulations of chopper-to-chopper transfers. But those helicopters were hovering. Now that he was standing in the open doorway, looking down at their target, he realized that he couldn’t risk sending his men from one moving vehicle to another.
He was about to abort when something happened to the LongRanger.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE Friday, 12:51 A.M., Toulouse, France
Richard Hausen was lying on the floor of the cockpit, rubbing his throat, wondering why Dominique hadn’t finished him off. Then he heard the sound of a pursuit aircraft. He felt the vibrations. Someone was on their tail.
He knew they weren’t going to shoot Dominique down, and the only way to stop him was if they boarded the LongRanger.
Even in his pained state the German didn’t know whether or not that could be done with a moving helicopter.
But he knew it would be easier if the LongRanger weren’t moving, if Dominique couldn’t evade them.
Hausen blinked hard to clear his eyes and then sought the automatic hover button on the control panel. Finding it, he threw himself against Dominique, pushed the button, and pulled the Frenchman to the floor of the cabin.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO Friday, 12:52 A.M., Toulouse, France
The Osprey shot over the hovering LongRanger and August ordered the pilot to turn back. The Osprey swung around and hovered directly over the LongRanger.
August looked down from the open hatch. Both vehicles were steady, though he had no idea how long the LongRanger would remain so. He wondered if Dominique might be trying to draw them out.
No, he thought. Dominique didn’t know whether their intentions were to board or pursue. Moreover, the Frenchman wouldn’t be able to see them from the cockpit.
He would have no idea if he’d succeeded in drawing out any or all of the team. August’s gut told him that Dominique wasn’t the one responsible for the hovering. It was probably Hausen.
Manigot, Boisard and Taylor were all looking at the Colonel, waiting for the command.
There was no gain without risk, and those who feared risk had no business wearing a uniform. The Colonel had a mission and he had the men.
“Go!” he said.
Taylor pressed the button on the hoist to lower Manigot quickly. The cable played out at 3.2 feet each second and he was on the stabilizer in fifteen seconds. Once Manigot had hooked himself to the crosspiece, he attached the cable, then signaled with a flashlight. Boisard slid down quickly and cleanly. Once he was secured to the other side of the crosspiece, Manigot unhooked the cable and Taylor withdrew it at once. The weight of the heavy hook at the end worked like a plumb bob to keep the cable from blowing back into the tail rotor.
August watched in the dim light from the open hatch of the Osprey as Boisard unwound the rope from his belt and slipped it through the steel loops on Manigot’s belt. Then Manigot released himself from the crosspiece and started shimmying along the top of the tail boom.
Suddenly, the LongRanger dove. It wasn’t a wild ride, like before: it was a purposeful attempt to get away. It caused Manigot to slide toward the mast of the rotor head.
Only his quick reflexes stopped him from being tossed into the spinning hub as he grabbed onto the exhaust pipe just aft of the assembly. Boisard held onto the stabilizer, literally dangling forward as the helicopter dove.
August got on the radio and ordered his pilot to pursue.
Then he squinted into the dark, watching for the men to jump.
They didn’t. Both men were proud but they weren’t reckless: if they could get off they would. They were probably worried about jumping off and landing in the rotors.
Frustrated by the distance and the blackness and the wind, August held on to the open hatch as the Osprey threw itself after the LongRanger. Finally, the LongRanger steadied again and August turned to Senior Airman Taylor.
“Lower that thing again!” he yelled. “I’m going down!” Taylor said, “Sir, we have no idea if the chopper will remain stabilized—” “Now!” August barked as he pulled a parachute from the equipment locker and slipped it on. “I’m going to hook ‘er to the tail boom. When I get to Boisard, we’re going to drag this sucker home.” “Sir, we’re tested for two thousand pounds, and the chopper is—” “I know. But as long as the helicopter rotor is turning, it won’t be deadweight! Tell the pilot to stay with him, no matter what. I’ll flash you twice when I’ve hooked her, then you radio the pilot to turn around!” Taylor saluted, then moved toward the controls with a confidence he clearly didn’t feel.
Like its namesake, the Osprey tore relentlessly through the sky. As it did, the cable unwound and August was lowered at an angle toward the chopper. He torqued around the cable as he descended, twisting around several times before he was able to grab the stabilizer. Crawling to the opposite side from Boisard to keep from unbalancing the aircraft, he hooked himself to the boom and then latched the cable around it as well. It slid back, smacked up against the tail fin with a clang, and held there.
August had his fish. But he didn’t signal the Osprey. He had something else in mind.
Looking forward, he began shimmying along the boom toward Manigot. The headwind was devastating as he inched ahead. As he neared the cabin, the LongRanger suddenly righted itself and swung off toward the east. The Osprey got a late start keeping up. The cable played out and the LongRanger shuddered violently as the cable grew taut and the hoist held.
August slid from the top of the tail boom to the side.
He looked up to make sure that Manigot was okay, and then he looked down. His legs were less than two yards from the skid. They were two dark, windy yards, but the tips of the skid were directly below him. If he released himself, he’d have to pass them on his way down.