Calypso's Mast

Chapter 26 - Hunted by the Prey

"You have got to be kidding me!" Schofield was incensed. He undid his seatbelt and walked, stooped over in the cramped space, up to the front of the passenger compartment. "What do you mean we have to call it off? We have paid for the plane. It's our charter."

Hatfield was hald turned in the copilot's seat and had to raise his voice above the external roar of the engines in order to be heard by the two Rangers in the second and third row of seats. Amy sat towards the rear of the plane, quietly looking out of her own window. They had been circulating up and down the coast for several hours but hadn't seen any sight of the boat or the crocodile.

"I know, guys. I'm sorry," said Hatfield. "That was my boss on the satellite phone. She's talking to your people and they are refunding the money and providing compensation as well. We have a border security issue on and that takes precedence."

Schofield made a gesture of exasperation and stomped back to his seat.

"I don't believe it," grumbled Pringle to Schofield. "We are so close. It's another classic government fiasco." He held his arms out in a beseeching manner and said cynically in mock public address, "Once again, good folk, defeat has been, fortunately, snatched from the jaws of victory." He dropped his hands. "I suppose that I should stop expecting them to get it right."

"I really am sorry guys," said Hatfield. "If I had my way we would continue but, I'm just like you and we're all in a much bigger game. I have to do as I'm told or I will be out of a job."

"So what are we doing now?" This time it was the pilot.

"Border Security wants us to drop everything and search for a submarine."

"No, no, no, no way," said Harrington over the headset intercom and he shook his head vigorously. "If that is what was shooting at us yesterday, they can find someone else to do their dirty work. Get the Air Force or the Navy. I am not going up there and risking this plane and the lives of all of you people just so some bureaucrat can score some career points. Tell them to forget it. I'm happy to find the crocodile but they can get someone else to go submarine hunting."

"We don't have a choice," said Hatfield. "Our department is paying for the aircraft charter.

"Oh yes I do," said Harrington. "I'm in command here. This is a civilian aircraft, not a military one. What I say, goes, not what your boss or anyone else says. We are not going looking for a submarine. You get back on that phone and you tell them where they can stick their charter. "

"Work with me on this," pleaded Hatfield. "I've got a job to do."

"So do I and that is to get you lot home, safely. The risk level is too high for us to go exposing ourselves to that submarine again. Have you forgotten how close we were to ending up in the ocean in a pile of burning wreckage, yesterday?"

"You don't know for sure if it was the submarine that was shooting at us."

The pilot looked at him incredulously. "Are you for real? Do I have to have a frontal lobotomy done to get a job with Border Protection? No way! Absolutely not!" he said shaking his head. "I'm not doing it. Find somebody else."

Hatfield was becoming frustrated and tense.

"I'm sorry, but you do have to do it. Border Protection can invoke the National Security Act and commandeer whatever vehicle or vessel they want if they deem it in the interests of protecting the nation against a threat. We really DON'T have a choice and I will be in a stack of trouble if I don't follow instructions."

"Do you want to fly the plane? Go ahead. It's yours." The pilot eased off the propeller pitch and gestured toward Hatfield's set of controls. The nose immediately began to dip with the loss of forward power and the aircraft began to descend. "If you have a licence, You have control. Take the yoke and put your feet on the pedals."