Chapter Twenty Eight
“King Air 615, cleared to land, runway 28.”
“615.”
After 1,300 miles of enjoying the star filled sky of northern Africa, Macumba’s mind switches to ‘GUMP’. Gas, undercarriage, mixture, props. She throttles back, lowers the landing gear, checks the fuel mixture settings, adjusts the props. Though she has not piloted in months, another envelope of cash sufficed to rent the aircraft with few questions asked concerning her current status as a pilot.
At the airfield, while diverting the attention of the unsavory owner, berretta at the ready, Achmed led David into the back of the plane. No one observed. The desolate airfield was originally built during World War II, refurbished when western oil companies were permitted to do business in Libya, and for the most part, in r
