THE MYSTERY OF FLIGHT 908

When Stewardess Vicki Barr feels the gun in her back, she knows Flight 908 is being hijacked. But remembering airline policy is no dead heroes, Vicki unlocks the door to the flight deck. Ordered to alter course for a tiny island-state off the coast of South America, Captain Mallinson protests that the big jetliner has not enough fuel and he lacks the necessary navigational charts. But the hijackers are unrelenting in their demand. So pilot and crew, concerned for the safety of their passengers, tackle the task of finding the small island before they are forced to ditch the jetliner in the ocean! Who are their captors? Why have they hijacked the plane? Vicki and the crew live through long, tense hours, resolving one crisis only to be confronted by another. On the island of Guairacorda, passengers and crew are treated like guestsonly they are prevented from using any means of communication. Then, surprisingly, the pilot is alerted for take-off carrying one extra passenger. During the flight back to the United States, Vicki glimpses the always-hidden face of the mystery man and realizes she will be in double danger if the hijackers find out. How the pretty stewardess assists the FBI in bringing the culprits to justice is the thrilling climax to The Mystery of Flight 908.

THE VICKI BARR AIR STEWARDESS SERIES

Silver Wings for Vicki Vicki Finds the Answer The Hidden Valley Mystery The Secret of Magnolia Manor The Clue of the Broken Blossom Behind the White Veil The Mystery at Hartwood House Peril Over the Airport The Mystery of the Vanishing Lady The Search for the Missing Twin The Ghost at the Waterfall The Clue of the Gold Coin The Silver Ring Mystery The Clue of the Carved Ruby The Mystery of Flight 908 The Brass Idol Mystery

THE VICKI BARR AIR STEWARDESS SERIES

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THE MYSTERY OF FLIGHT 908

BY HELEN WELLS
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GROSSET & DUNLAP

PUBLISHERS New York

 GROSSET & DUNLAP, INC., 1962

All Rights Reserved

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

CONTENTS
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CHAPTER

PAGE

I II III IV V VI VII VIII IX X XI XII XIII XIV XV XVI XVII

TROUBLED SKIES GROWING SUSPICIONS A SOLEMN BRIEFING THE SKIES TURN GRAY A JET IN JEOPARDY THE WINNER LOSES PINPOINT IN AN OCEAN WINDY ISLAND WHERE TO NEXT? ANOTHER VISITOR DESTINATION UNKNOWN AIR-BORNE AGAIN NIGHT FLIGHT TOUCHDOWN! THE FBI TAKES CHARGE HOME AGAIN, OFF AGAIN THE LINE-UP

1 17 27 36 47 58 70 80 92 104 115 124 134 144 156 164 174

CHAPTER I

Troubled Skies

. . . And rememberwe want no dead heroes. The speaker was Paul Bradford, Eastern Division Manager of Federal Airlines. He paused and glanced around the room. His eyes rested briefly on the pretty face of a young stewardess with silky ashblond hair and delicate features. He smiled, then added: . . . Nor any dead heroines, either. Now, are there any questions? Vicki Barr, the ash-blond stewardess, looked at the speaker out of serious, sky-blue eyes. Her natural shyness made Vicki hesitate to voice her questions. But the speaker, glancing at her again, caught the inquiring expression on her lovely face. Yes, Miss Barr? Is it true that were going to have someone from the government riding shotgun on our flight? Or is that just a rumor? Before Mr. Bradford could reply to Vickis
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questions, a pert-faced, dark-haired stewardess exclaimed: Riding shotgun? Why, whatever in the world do you mean? I do declare, I never heard tell of such a thing! Her accent marked her as being from the Deep South. Her deep, throaty voice could charm a smile from even the grumpiest of passengers. Perhaps Id better explain, Miss Merriweather, before answering Miss Barrs questions. The phrase riding shotgun goes back to the days of the stagecoach and the Old West. If a stagecoach was carrying a consignment of gold or bank notes, a law officer would ride along, a shotgun on his lap, to prevent highwaymen from attacking the stagecoach and stealing the consignment. Oh, I see. You mean like on TV? Laughter filled the room. When it subsided, Bradford spoke again. Like on TV, Miss Merriweather. But to get back to Miss Barrs questions. We have received no definite word from Washington as yet, Miss Barr. I do know the subject is under consideration. Well probably know for certain within twenty-four hours. However, we do not expect to hear in time for your flight south this afternoon. Thank you, Mr. Bradford. I do want to impress on all of you the extreme seriousness of the situation. Im sure you all realize
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it. Were faced with a situation where we are threatened by political fanatics. Political fanatics are capable of any act. And thats whom were dealing withfanatics. Or oddballs. Vicki spoke up again, hardly realizing she had spoken. Youre right, Miss Barr. Fanatics or oddballs. We know the first plane hijacked was the work of political fanatics. The second one was a wacky attempt at grabbing headlines. In either case, the fives of the passengers and the crew were at stake. Thats why I sayand I now repeat my statement if a passenger pulls a gun on any crew member, do exactly as that manor womansays. The remark was followed by silence. Everyone in the briefing room wore a serious expression. Frowns creased the faces of the pilots, flight engineers, and copilots. The stewardesses tense expressions showed their concern about the dangerous possibility of hijackers. Rebecca Becky Merriweather, who was seated next to Vicki, looked even more concerned when Vicki said: Mr. Bradford, I know that it has also been suggested that the captain be armed. Could you tell us anything about that? The pilots will not be armed, Miss Barr. Vicki felt relieved. Her thoughts went back to
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other discussions she had had with pilots since the aviation world had been shocked by a wave of plane hijacking. She knew the ALPAAirline Pilots Associationwas dead set against having the crews carry pistols. Its reasoning was logical. The cabin of a jet airliner, flying at an altitude of 35,000 to 40,000 feet, has to be pressurized. Otherwise, neither passengers nor crew could survive in the rarefied atmosphere at such altitudes. A wild shot would go through the planes skin. The heavier air within the plane would then gush out through the hole made by the bullet and explode that small opening into a gaping wound. Thin air would rush in and the crew and passengers would be suffocated. No, there just wasnt any answer to the serious problem of hijacking. No way had been worked out yet as to how to prevent a suspectedor overcome an actualone. If a fanatic or an oddball put a gun to her head, Vicki knew she would have to do what she was told. Id have to unlock the door to the flight deck. ThenI guess all I could do waspray. Vickis words were said with complete solemnity. Her tone of voice was low, almost as if she were praying. Her words were most effective. Everyone in the room was moved by them. Mr. Bradford cleared his throat. If there are no further questions . . . None? Then
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I think we can conclude this meeting. The men and women filed slowly out of the briefing room. They walked into a chilly November day and into a world as fantastic as any ever created by science-fiction writers. This was Idlewild International Airport in New York. White-domed buildings, long hangars, the tall control tower reaching skyward, made this a city in itself, a city that served the world with sleek, swift jetliners. The whine of jet engines as they warmed up for take-offs was constant over the entire area. Inside the huge terminal building, a continuous chant poured out of the loud-speaker systems. Flight 807, nonstop from Borne to New York, now arriving at Gate 61. Flight 132, inbound from Geneva and Shannon, now arriving at Gate 63. The announcement of most flights came through first in English, followed by the same announcement in the language of the country of the planes starting point or destination. Vicki Barr was a part of this city, a part of the age of jet flight, of travel to adventure in exotic countries. And she loved every minute of it. Swinging along through the busy terminal on her way for a quick lunch with her friend Becky, Vicki sensed the presence of someone coming up beside her. She glanced over her trim shoulder and found
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herself looking into the smiling eyes of Pete Carmody. And would the glamorous stewardess Vicki Barr and her equally lovely friend Becky allow a poor but honest newspaperman to take them to lunch? he asked. Vicki smiled. Pete was a long-time friend. Until the past week, it had been three months since she had last seen him. In the early days of her career as a flight stewardess for Federal Airlines, Vicki had seen Pete quite often. Then she had transferred from Federal, a domestic airline, to Worldwide Airways. Her many trips to far-off countries had kept her out of the States so much that her path and Petes rarely crossed. On the occasions when she had been in New York, Pete had always managed to find out and he would phone her. Sometimes they had a chance to have dinner, or go dancing, but not very often. Pete had called her just two weeks before at her home in Fairview, Illinois. He had learned that she was on a leave of absence from Worldwide to run the Barr household during her mothers protracted illness. He had been more than delighted to learn that Vickis mother was nearing the end of her convalescence and that Vicki soon would be back in New York. Ill be working for Federal again, Vicki had told him.
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You mean youve switched back? I cant believe it! Pete showed his disbelief by the astonishment in his voice. Only temporarily, Vicki had informed him. Im due back with Worldwide in three weeksmy leave is up then. But how come the Federal job in the meantime? Theyre short of senior stewardesses temporarily. Federal and Worldwide are close, you know. Federal feeds a lot of domestic passengers to Worldwides overseas flights. So, Federal asked Worldwide if they could borrow me for a few domestic flights before I went back, and Worldwide said okay. Thats swell, Vicki. Ill be seeing you in New York. Pete Carmody covered aviation news for one of New Yorks leading newspapers. He had always liked to think that he was more than just a friend to Vicki. But Vicki, although very fond of Pete, saw to it that their relationship remained on a firm just friends footing. So, what about that lunch? Pete asked again. Oh, Pete. You can join us for lunch, but this is Dutch treat, Vicki replied. Each one pays his own check. Come off it, young lady. Im on assignment. The
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office always pays when Im digging into a story. You mean you want to interview lil ole us? Becky asked. Now isnt that sweet! I caught a fast rumor that Federal flight crews on the Miami run were briefed just now. Am I right, Vicki? Youre right, Pete. How do you always find out these things? My nose for news, natch. Any line flying into Miami could be nextnext to have a plane skyjacked. Theres a small country down thataway where some people like to put the snatch on jets operated under the flag of Uncle Sam. How about it? That what the briefing was about? What did the PR office tell you? Vicki asked. Public Relations played it cagey. Im on the best of terms with those guys, too. They usually help me a lot. But this time, on this subject, it was no comment. And thats what youll get from us, too, Vicki said firmly. She certainly had no intention of telling Pete anything that might lead to a sensational, scare story. Pete was a careful reporter, Vicki knew. He was popular with the airlines. But hijacking planes in itself was sensational news. The fewer stories about such possibilities, the better. I expected that, Pete replied soberly. But I got the story, anyway. From someone who isnt as
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close-mouthed as you are. I kinda like Paul Bradfords phrase no dead heroes, no dead heroines. Pete Carmody! How did you find that out? Vickis indignation was more feigned than real. I have my ways. And, my friends, Ill still buy you lunch. They started for the restaurant where most Federal Airlines employees gathered for their quick snacks. Vicki and Becky were wearing their attractive peacock-blue summer flight uniforms, the standard attire for all stewardesses assigned to planes bound for the sunny South. Both girls had thrown bulky blue sweaters around their shoulders to protect them from the chilly New York temperatures. I envy you, Pete said, when they were seated at a table by a window overlooking the busy airfield. After giving their orders, he added, Yep. Id like to be down in sunny Florida right now. These November winds chill my aging bones. Vicki smiled. Petes aging bones were still in their early twenties. Three hours from now, he continued, youll be on Miami Beachthat famous strip of sand for sun lovers. Lucky you. Only one day for me, Pete. Overnight in Miami, Vicki said, then tomorrow I switch to the
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San Francisco run. I do, too, Petah, Becky cut in. I think its just wonderful. Ive never been to San Francisco. I heah its just the sweetest ole place. Pete grinned at Becky. Becky hadnt been with Federal very long. Her flights so far had been up and down the east coast. But she had bid for the San Francisco run and had gotten it. When Vicki came back for temporary duty with Federal, Becky had attached herself to her immediately. It was Beckys ambition to become a transocean stewardess as soon as she could. She expected to learn a lot from Vicki. Their orders arrived. Vicki and Becky had club sandwiches. Peter had his usual ham and cheese on rye. Hows your mother, Vicki? Pete asked. Is she fully recovered now? Just about, Pete, Vicki replied. She still has to take things a bit easy. But shes over her illness and now its a matter of fully regaining her strength. And the others? Your father and sister Ginny? Tiptop. Dads had a great time preparing special foods for Mother. You remember how he loves to cook? I surely do. And hes good, too. Ill never forget my visit to The Castle. Castle? What castle are you talking about? Becky wanted to know.
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Its not quite what it sounds, Vicki replied, smiling. Thats what we call our home. It sort of looks like a castle, but its very much on the small side compared to real castles. Vickis thoughts flashed back to Fairview. Happy memories sped swiftly through her mind. She could see her mother tending her beloved flower gardens. Her younger sister Ginny romping about the lawn with their dog Freckles. Her father, in the kitchen, dreaming up some elaborate dessert. Petes next question interrupted this stream of thought. How long will you be based in San Francisco, Vicki? Just short of two weeksabout ten days. Then I go back to Worldwide. Petes face fell. I hoped Id get to see you while you were back with Federal. Youll live, Pete. Youll get by, Vicki said teasingly. Itll be a struggle, though. I had hoped we could do a few things together during the next two weeks. Well, thats Pete Carmody for you. He keeps trying and you keep flyingaway. Petes voice became serious. Really, Vicki, I am disappointed. Im going to miss youbut then, Ive been missing you for a long, long time. Vicki felt a slight flush of embarrassment come to her face. Part of Petes little speech had been light,
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bantering. But Vicki could read the deeper compliment and the genuine liking Pete felt for her. She smiled warmly at Pete, then glanced at her watch. Goodness. Weve got to hurry. Were due to check in in five minutes. Vicki and Becky rose from the table. Vicki started fumbling in her purse for money. Please, Vicki. Let me. I really want to. Okay? Okay, Vicki said with a smile. And happy landings. Thank you, Pete. The two girls made for the exit. Petes eyes remained glued to Vickis back. At the doorway, she turned and waved to Pete. Three hours and a thousand miles later, the huge jetliner with one hundred and forty vacation-bound sun lovers went into its final glide path at Miamis International Airport. It touched down as gently as a fall leaf dropping to the ground. The pilot cut the outboard engines and taxied to the terminal on the planes whining inboard engines. Vicki went to the rescue of a young mother, carrying a baby in her arms. Twin boys, about three years old, tugged at her skirts, demanding attention. Please, let me take the baby, Vicki said, smiling, and held out her arms for the child. The
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mother shooed her male small fry ahead of her, Vicki and the baby bringing up the rear. Another hour found Vicki and Becky in swim suits, lying on the beach in front of the Alcazar Hotel, where Federal Airlines personnel stayed. The sky overhead was flecked by wispy white clouds. A gentle breeze coming off the water battled the suns heat and made sunbathing most enjoyable. Vicki was lucky. Unlike most blondes, she could spend hours in the sun without burning. Her skin didnt tan deeply but it took on a creamy golden hue. Youre going to be mad about that captain were flying with tomorrow, Becky said. Hes one of the cutest boys I ever did see. His names Lars Mallinson and hes just like one of those Vikings you read about in books. You know him, Vicki? No, I dont, Becky. He wasnt with Federal when I was with them before. Well, you just wait until you see him! Youre simply going to adore him. Do you get dreamy-eyed over every pilot you fly with, Becky? Really! Now, Vicki, dont you be mean. I just happen to like men, theyre soso manly! Vicki let out a peal of laughter. She raised herself on her elbows and looked at the water. How about a swim, Becky? In the ocean! Honey, have you lost your mind?
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Ill go in the pool but not in that old salty ocean. I just cant stand that sticky salt water on my skin. Vicki chuckled, rose gracefully to her feet, and sprinted toward the surf, adjusting her swim cap over her ash-blond hair as she raced along. She darted into the water and dived through an oncoming breaker. The water was glorious. She splashed around for a time, then swam twenty-five yards out and back, using an overhand stroke. She rejoined Becky and snuggled down in a colorful beach towel. She noticed that while she was in the water, two men had settled themselves about fifteen feet away. They were young, both darkcomplexioned, and, from the way they gestured with their hands as they talked, Vicki identified them as Latin Americans. Those two cute boys over there, Vicki. Wouldnt you know? They havent even looked at me. Becky, youre an incurable flirt. Perhaps they have more serious things on their minds. Out here on the beach? Why, I never! A slight gust of wind brought the mens voices to Vickis ears. She heard the word avin, the Spanish word for airplane, again and again. Then she heard the words peligrodanger, and riesgorisk. Immediately she was alert. She strained her ears, trying to hear a complete sentence that would give her a more definite clue to the mens conversation.
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Then she heard it. One of the men had said Its our only chance. We have to pull it off. Honey, how about that swim in the pool? Hush, Becky, Vicki said sharply. She had to hear more now. Oh, thats right, you do speak Spanish, dont you, Vicki? Now Vicki heard a phrase that sent her heart pounding. Los billetes? Los tienes?The tickets? You have them? S. S. Federal. Maana.Yes. Yes. Federal. Tomorrow. A qu hora?At what time? Medioda. A las . . . Kerchoo! The sneeze came from Becky. Oh, Becky! Vicki was furious. Did you have to sneeze just then? Im sorry, honey, but the sun was ticklin my nose. What were they saying, anyway? Before Vicki could reply, a young man came up. Hi, there, Becky. Taking the sun? And is the young lady with you also a stewardess? She sure is, Captain Hatfield. This is Miss Vicki Barr. Shes flying with Federal for a few trips. As Vicki acknowledged the introduction, she noticed that the two dark-complexioned men had gotten up quickly and were hurrying down the
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beach. Her shoulders drooped in disappointment. She had been so close to having the complete story. If Becky hadnt sneezed just when she did, she would have learned the time of the flight the men had tickets forthe exact time, right to the minute. She had heard the word mediodameaning midday, or noon. Beckys sneeze had drowned out the rest of the mans reply. Vicki had heard only Mediodaa las . . . If only she had been able to hear what followed the a las, she felt she would have known whether the man meant noontwelve oclock exactly, or twelve fifteen, twelve thirty, or twelve forty-five. Nice to meet you, Captain Hatfield, Vicki said quickly. Please forgive me, but Ive got to run. Becky, puzzled, followed Vicki. Whats the hurry, honey? Weve got to find Captain Mallinsonfast! With their hands filled with towels, beach bags, sunglasses, and other beach wear, they headed for the hotel. A single thought kept pounding in Vickis head as she hurried across the sand: the noon flight was the one she was scheduled to go out on!

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CHAPTER II

Growing Suspicions

Becky, please try to locate Captain Mallinson while I take a quick shower, Vicki requested urgently. The two girls were back in their room at the Alcazar. Becky was delighted to have the opportunity to call Captain Mallinson. She had been caught up in the excitement radiating from Vicki, although she still didnt fully understand the situation. Honey, cant you tell me what this is all about? Im dying to know. Havent the time. Anyway, youll hear all about it when I report to Captain Mallinson. Be a good girl, now, and call him. Vicki ducked into the shower. As the needle-spray shower stung her body, Vicki began having doubts. She went over in her mind every word she had heard on the beach. Had she heard enough to support her suspicions? True, she had heard the Spanish words for risk and
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danger. But many people unaccustomed to flying had certain fears about that form of travel. She had also heard the men talk about having tickets for a Federal Airlines flight. But again, lots of people flew Federal Airlines. Vicki hoped she wasnt building the proverbial molehill into a mountain. She didnt want to cry wolf, to raise an alarm that would unnecessarily worry others. Tomorrow would be her first flight as a stewardess under Captain Mallinson. She certainly didnt want to look foolish in front of him. But why had the two men jumped up and left so quickly when Captain Hatfield had identified her and Becky as flight stewardessesstewardesses for Federal Airlines? Vicki stepped out of her shower. Foolish or not, this was no time to take chances. Did you locate Captain Mallinson, Becky? Vicki called out. No, I didnt, honey. He isnt in his room, and I had him paged. No answer. You say hes a big, striking Norseman type? Looks like a Viking? Vicki asked. Youd know him right away, honey. Hes the handsomest . . . Im going on down to the lobby as soon as Im dressed. Im sure I can recognize him from your description, Becky. You hurry and join me.
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I sure will, sugar. Im dying to see him again. Vicki didnt put on her flight uniform. She was certain the two men would recognize her, but she didnt want to make it easy for them to do so. She dressed in a light summer frock of lemon-yellow linen, accented with pearl buttons. The color of the dress blended perfectly with her shining blond hair and accentuated the lovely golden tones of her skin. As Vicki was leaving the room, Becky called out a parting remark. Honey, you look good enough to eatlike lemon sherbet. In the elevator on her way down to the lobby, it suddenly occurred to Vicki that it was quite possible that the two men were not staying at the Alcazar, even though they were using the hotels beach. They could have wandered down the sandy strip from the next hotel. Hotels lined the shore for miles. Stepping out of the elevator, Vicki quickly scanned the lobby. She saw no one of Captain Mallinsons description. She started across the lobby for a seat near the entrance when her attention was attracted by the rapping of knuckles on a glass door. She looked in the direction the sound came from. She saw one of the men from the beach rapping on the glass door of a telephone booth. The door swung inward and the man in the booth poked his head out. This man had brown hair. He was not the second man she had seen on the beach. They spoke rapidly
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to each other. The caller closed the door. The other man remained close by, and Vicki saw him press his ear to the door to catch what the speaker was saying. Vicki decided to act. The telephone booths were at the rear of the hotels newsstand. She sauntered over. Idly she thumbed through the magazines. She bent low over the stand, opened one magazine, and held it so her face was partly shielded. Luck was with her. Again the man on the phone opened the door of the booth. Qu lnea? he asked the man lurking outside the booth. Tomamos un avin del Federal was the reply. The phone-booth door closed again. Vicki, her heart pounding, replaced the magazine and left the newsstand. Once out of sight, she quickened her pace and headed for a lounge chair in the rear of the lobby. She wanted to be out of sight now. She didnt want those men to know she was in the lobby, but she felt she had to stay there to be able to catch Captain Mallinson the moment he came in. The question asked by the man in the phone booth and the answer were burned into her mind. What line? the man had asked. We take a Federal plane, had been the reply. As Vicki waited, her eyes on the doorway, she went over again all she had overheard. And again
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she was assailed by self-doubt. Had she read too much meaning into what she had overheard? After all, the man had merely asked what line and the answer had been Federal. Couldnt this mean only that the inquirer wanted to know what airline they were going to travel on? But the more she thought about the matter, the more Vicki became convinced that the situation could be interpreted as most serious. So deep was she in thought that it wasnt until Becky came up to where she was sitting that she noticed her. You havent seen Captain Mallinson yet, honey? Becky inquired. No. Not yet. Im sure no one fitting the description you gave has come in. Well, then, while were waiting, suppose you tell lil ole Becky just what is worrying you so much. Vicki managed a weak smile. She quickly filled Becky in. Becky was not alarmed. But, honey, everyone says theyre going to take a plane. That doesnt mean theyre going to steal it. Not everyone, Becky. The SpanishI mean, Latin Americansdont use the word take as we do. They dont say take a taxi, take a train, or take a plane. Then what do they say? Well, if theyre traveling by plane, they would
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say vamos por avin. That means we go by air. They wouldnt use the verb tomar, meaning to take. And thats what really bothers me. For once Beckys face took on a serious expression. I guess I understand . . . oh, look! Theres one of those men we saw on the beach today. Vicki looked up to see the man and his new companion come out of the section where the newsstand was located. They were walking rapidly and talking animatedly to each other. Vicki thought fast and made up her mind even faster. Im going to follow those men, Becky. You stay here and wait for Captain Mallinson. But, honey, something might happen to you . . . Vicki paid no attention to her friends words of warning. She was already on the way to the door, taking quick, brisk steps, but not quite running. Running would attract too much attention. She stood at the top of the three steps which led to street level, looking first left, then right, under the canopy covering the path to the curb. Vicki caught sight of the two men just as they climbed into a white convertible. It was dusk and growing dark fast. It will be easy to follow that car, Vicki said to herself, even in the dark. She ran down the three steps and dashed to a taxi parked just four cars
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23

behind the convertible. Just as she was about to enter the cab, a man stumbled awkwardly in front of her. Excuse me, miss. Im so sorry. I hope I havent injured you. Not at all. Its nothing. I dont know what could have caused me to stumble like that. The man still remained between Vicki and the waiting taxi. If youll please get out of the way . . . Im in a hurry, Vicki said. Of course. Let me help you. The man reached for the cab door, but he seemed unable to open it. Vicki looked in the direction of the white convertible. She saw it pulling away from the curb. Her frustration mounted as she saw the white car round a corner and disappear from sight. Angered, Vicki turned and glared at her obstructor. For the first time she saw his face clearly. Now she knew she had been the victim of a plota plot to prevent her from following the convertible. This man, who had deliberately delayed her, was the second of the two men she had seen on the beach. While she had been spying on the other two, this man apparently had been keeping a close watch on her actions. As these thoughts raced through her mind, the
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man brusquely pushed Vicki aside. Now the cab door opened easily. This is my taxi, Vicki said sharply. She didnt really know why she said it, unless it was because she was so angry. She didnt want the cab. The man pushed her away. As he did, a strapping, Viking-type man came up. Is this man bothering you, miss? he asked. Well. Yes. I mean, no. Oh ... he bothered me, all right. But not in the way you must be thinking. The tall, broad-shouldered blond man took a firm hold on the door of the cab. If you want this taxi, miss, its yours. Ill see to that. Vicki shrugged her shoulders. Let him have it. It doesnt matter any more. Deep in her thoughts, Vicki crossed the sidewalk to re-enter the hotel. She turned at the entrance and looked back to the street. The taxi was rounding the same corner, following the direction the convertible had taken minutes before. The tall, blond man came up to her as she stood there. If there is anything I can do, miss . . . Im Captain Lars Mallinson of Federal Airlines . . . Captain Mallinson! Oh . . . oh, youre just the person Im looking for . . . Im Vicki Barr . . . Ill be one of your stewardesses tomorrow. Something has happened . . . I
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think . . . I mean, something may happen . . . Ive got to tell you about it. Puzzled, the captain smiled at her and said, Please do. I want you to. They entered the hotel. Her feeling that trouble lay ahead was growing. Yet, now that she was about to tell Captain Mallinson what had happened, did she have enough evidence to justify her suspicions?

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CHAPTER III

A Solemn Briefing

Vicki was immediately impressed with Captain Mallinson. Here was a man who would not get rattled in any situation. His gray eyes looked at her steadily as she told her story. He listened without interruption. Vicki realized she need have no fear that her story might sound like the wild imaginings of an excitable young girl. Captain Mallinson was as impressed by Vicki as she was with him. What should we do about it, Captain? Vicki asked. Captain Mallinson didnt reply at once. Apparently he was considering Vickis story from every angle. Shouldnt the authorities be notified? Vicki asked. Or dont you think we have enough to go on? Thats a difficult question to answer, Miss Barr, Captain Mallinson finally said. The three were in a small alcove off the lobby of
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the hotel. There was no possibility of their conversation being overheard. Vicki had stressed the importance of this when she and Captain Mallinson had re-entered the building. Captain Mallinson looked at his watch. Let me handle it from here. Ill get in touch with our Miami Service Manager. Any action taken should be initiated by him. One thing more, Miss Barr. If youre going out tonight, please leave word at the desk where we can get in touch with you. I havent any plans, Vicki replied. Dinner, and sleep. Ill be in my room with Becky. Good. Ill probably call you before the evening is over. Vicki and Becky dined in the hotel that night. Afterward, they retired to their room. About ten oclock the telephone rang. Becky leaped for it. Oh, yes, Captain Mallinson. This is Becky Merriweather. . . . You want to talk to Vicki? Just a moment. There was a disappointed look on Beckys face as she handed the phone over to Vicki. Yes, Captain Mallinson. This is Miss Barr. Becky leaned forward, trying to catch Captain Mallinsons words. He spoke for some time. Vicki interjected a Yes, or an All right, now and then. At eight thirty, Captain. Well be there. She replaced the phone. What is it, Vicki? What is it? Im so excited!
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We have to be at the airport at eight thirty. Eight thirty in the morning? Why, I never! Were not due to check in until ten. And I need my beauty sleep. Vicki smiled at Becky. Youre pretty enough as it is. Thank you, honey. You say the nicest things. But why so early? Theres going to be a special meeting. Federal has three flights out of Miami around noon tomorrow. Our flight to San Francisco at noon. Then theres another to Chicago at twelve fifteen and one to Dallas at twelve thirty. Three highly valuable, powerful new jets. You mean they think any of the three might be hijacked by those men? Captain Mallinson didnt go into that much detail, Becky. I suppose the Service Manager wants the crews of all three flights alerted to what I told Captain Mallinson. Beckys dark-brown eyes were opened wide. Then this is really serious, isnt it? Becky, of course it is. Youve known that all along, havent you? Well, I suppose I have. But lil ole Becky always says, Dont go borrowing trouble. Too many people are too anxious to lend it to you, anyhow. Oh, Becky! Good night! Vicki snapped off the
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bed light. For several minutes Vickis mind was filled with the confused happenings since she had arrived in Miami that afternoon. Speculating on the possibilities of tomorrow, Vickis imagination started running away with her. Here, here, Vicki Barr, she told herself, if you dont stop this, youll get yourself in a tizzy! Stop it and go to sleep! Vicki turned over on her side and soon dropped off to sleep. The next morning the Federal Airlines conference room at Miami International Airport was filled with three very serious flight crews. The twelve stewardesses, the three captains, the copilots, and the flight engineers talked earnestly, speculating about the meeting. Edward Pierce, the Miami Service Manager, entered. The low buzz of conversation came to an abrupt halt as he went to the front of the room. Good morning, Mr. Pierce began. Ill make this as brief as possible. If you have any questions at the end, I want to hear them. One of our stewardesses, Miss Vicki Barr, overheard some alarming conversations yesterday. I know that you, or some of you, were briefed at Idlewild before you came down here yesterday.
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What was said there goes even stronger today. I want to repeat it, to say once more that Federal wants no dead heroes, no dead heroines. Heres the background, based on information Miss Barr has given us. Hastily, but in concise detail, Mr. Pierce repeated Vickis story. Have I omitted anything, Miss Barr? he asked when he had concluded. No, sir, Vicki replied. Thank you. Now you all will want to know what we can do and what we have done. The answer to that first question is most difficult. There really isnt anything we can do. It has been suggested that the baggage of all passengers on our three flights today be searched. That cannot be done. It would be an invasion of privacy. For the same reason, we cannot ask passengers to turn out their pockets, or permit a body search for weapons. You all understand that, I am sure. There was a low murmur of Yeses from the assemblage. Although there will be no official notification of it, we have done this: We have switched flight times. The flight Miss Barr is to go on, Flight 908, is scheduled to take off at noon, before our other two flights. Were going to delay that flight until the other two have taken off. There is only a half hours
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difference in time. Miss Barr will be the last stewardess to board her flight. She will be stationed where she has a good view of all passengers boarding Flights 912 and 914, as well as her own. She will watch to see if any of the passengers are the three men she saw and overheard yesterday. Vicki wondered what she was supposed to do if she did see any of the men. Mr. Pierces next remark gave her the answer. We have been in touch with the FBI. They will have three agents stationed at the loading gates. If Miss Barr spots any of the three men as they are checked through, she will merely nod her head. The FBI will take it from there. Is that clear, Miss Barr? Vicki nodded her head. Yes, it is. Incidentally, Miss Barr, I want you to remain behind when this briefing is over. I want you to meet the three FBI agents, so youll know what they look like. Mr. Pierce paused for a few moments. Now there is one thing more I want to stress. I know it will be difficult for all of you to go about your duties as if there were nothing in the airand I dont mean that to be a pun. We must make every effort not to communicate to our passengers any apprehension we may have. Remember, they are just as aware of this hijacking danger as we are. There
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hasnt been any noticeable drop in our passenger payloads, but there could be if the public gets wind of anything like this. Another hijacking and we can expect a serious drop in passenger traffic. I think thats about all. Any questions? There was silence for a few moments. One of the pilots stood up. My flight, 914, is the one due to take off at twelve thirty. If we take off before that time, arent we liable to leave some passengers behind? A good question. Weve thought about that. We dont believe well run into any trouble. As you all know, passengers, most of them, usually arrive at the airport a good half hour, if not an hour before flight time. Well check the passenger list carefully. If there appear to be some late arrivals, they will be taken care of. Your flight, Captain Jennings, will taxi out to your take-off runway. Then youll hold. If there are any late arrivals, well jeep them out to your flight. Are any of these FBI men going to ride with us? No. There are no plans for that. The subject was discussed. But unless some action of a highly suspicious nature is observedand we think that unlikelythere would be little reason for any of these men to go along just for the ride. . . . Yes, Captain Mallinson?
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Id like to make a suggestion. It seems to me that since our three flights are taking off within minutes of one another it would be a good idea for us to keep in constant radio communication with one another. Say, every fifteen minutes we merely radio to one another Skies still blue if nothing has happened. If any of us do get into troublehijacking trouble then a quick Skies cloudy would inform the other two that one of us has had it. It would then be possible to get a radio-triangulation fix on the plane that has been taken over. What do you think? An excellent idea, Captain Mallinson. What do the rest of you think of it? There was a short period of discussion, then complete agreement among all present. I guess that does it, then, Mr. Pierce said. Miss Barr, will you please come with me. Thank you all. The flight crews filed out. Vicki joined Mr. Pierce. The FBI men are waiting in my office, Miss Barr. This wont take long. Just so they can see what you look likeand theyll like what they see, I can assure you. Vicki felt a flush of pleasure spread quickly across her face. The meeting with the three FBI agents took only a few minutes. The three men, wearing dark suits, impressed Vicki by their air of assurance. There was
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no doubt that they would handle their assignments with customary FBI efficiency. Afterward, Mr. Pierce took Vicki downstairs to the area where passengers boarded their flights. You can watch from anywhere around here, Miss Barrwhere you have a good clear view of the three loading gates. If you could make yourself as inconspicuous as possible, that might help. Vicki looked around. There was a refreshment counter nearby from which she felt she could command a good view of all three of Federals loading gates. I think, Mr. Pierce, if I stood over there and had a Coke, I wouldnt be too conspicuous. Good idea, Miss Barr. Ill be around, too. And dont worry if you do spot the men. Youll be perfectly safe. Happy landings.

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CHAPTER IV

The Skies Turn Gray

At eleven oclock Vicki sauntered casually up to the refreshment counter in Federal Airlines waiting lounge. The counter was crowded with people having coffee. It was almost directly opposite Gate 6. Gate 5 was to the left and Gate 7 to the right. Her view of all three gates was excellent. Only passing passengers and visitors would obstruct her view, and then only briefly. Vicki ordered a Coke, and began her vigil. The waiting lounge was not too crowded as she took up her post. As the minutes ticked off, more and more people poured into the lounge. There was a group two deep at the ticket counter, validating their tickets and checking in their luggage. Vicki smiled as she saw a young boy, arms extended straight out from his sides, swoop through the lounge, imitating an airplane. First-flight excitement, she thought. She kept her eyes pivoting from one gate to
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another. Passengers were beginning to form a line at Gate 5, Flight 912. Although Flight 912 was still listed for a twelve-fifteen departure, a Federal attendant was at his check-in spot, ready to open the gate as soon as the flight was announced. Vicki glanced at the bulletin board containing information on outgoing flights. A notice had been posted that Flight 908her flightwould be delayed thirty minutes. It was now eleven thirty. The lounge began to teem with passengers, clutching their tickets in their hands. They were surrounded by relatives and friends. It was becoming more difficult for Vicki to have a clear view of the three gates. She glanced around the lobby and spotted the FBI agents. One was leaning on the counter where inbound information was posted. This was close to Gate 5, the first flight scheduled to take off. The second agent was at Gate 6. The third was mingling with the crowd. Federal Airlines Flight 912 nonstop to Chicago, came the announcement over the loudspeaker system. Now boarding at Gate 5. There was a surge forward as passengers crowded around Gate 5. Despite the crowd, Vicki was able to get a clear view of each passenger as he presented his ticket to the check-in attendant. The attendant seemed slower than usual, taking more time than
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necessary to examine, tear off one section of the ticket, and nod the passenger through the gate. Hes being deliberately slow, Vicki told herself. Mr. Pierce must have told him to go slow, to give me more time to examine each passenger. Ten minutes went by. The last passenger in line was checked through the gate. There hadnt been anyone even remotely resembling the three men Vicki had seen the day before. She felt relieved and allowed a smile of satisfaction to cross fleetingly over her face. The alert FBI agent at the inbound counter must have seen the smile and interpreted it as an all safe signal. He moved from his position at the counter to one opposite Gate 6. Already an attendant was at his stand. The announcement for Flight 914, nonstop jet service to Dallas, came over the loud-speaker. The same process was repeated. The attendant worked slowly. Vicki scrutinized each passenger closely. From outside, Vicki could hear the slow whine of jet engines as they were being warmed up. That will be Flight 912, Vicki thought. The whine increased to a high pitch. The huge jet lumbered slowly off toward its designated take-off runway, where it would be held until twelve fifteen. Now and then, Vicki shot a quick look at Gate 5, just in case there was a late arrival. None had shown
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up thus far. At twelve fifteen the last passenger for Flight 914 walked through the loading gate. Again Vicki was relieved that none of the three men had attempted to board this flight. Suddenly her feeling of happiness changed to one of fear. There was only one flight lefther flight. Would one or more of the three men board Flight 908? Federal Airlines Flight 908 nonstop to San Francisco. Now boarding at Gate 7. Well, Vicki said to herself grimly, this could be it. The crowd in the lounge had thinned out now. Only the group forming in front of Gate 7 remained in the lobby. Vicki looked at the gate attendant. She turned her head briefly to look at the passengers, then swung her eyes back sharply. The gate attendant was the third FBI agent. He was now wearing a Federal Airlines uniform. Vickis heart began to pound. Was this significant? Had the FBI learned something at the last moment? Was that the reason for the substitution for the regular attendant? Vickis eyes scanned the line of passengers in front of Gate 7. She could see no one resembling the men she was looking for. For a moment her imagination ran wild. She started looking for anyone
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who might appear to be suspicious. But the passengers looked much the same as any group of people making a flight. The whine of Flight 914s engines came to her ears. Soon it would be on the runway. Vicki looked at her watch. It was twelve twentyeight. Two minutes to go before she would leave her post and walk through the gate to the job she was so skillfully trained for. The last passenger filed through the gate. Vicki started walking slowly to Gate 7. She half expected the FBI agent in the lounge to approach her and ask if she was sure she hadnt seen any of the men. When he didnt, Vicki felt a sense of pleasure. These men had trusted her implicitly to do her job. Passing through Gate 7, the agent in the Federal Airlines uniform smiled at her. Happy landings, Miss Barr. That was all. Vicki strode toward the waiting plane. This is a good one. Here I am, the last to board. Until now, its always been the other way around. Ive always been first to board. She mounted the steps to the plane. As she entered she heard the roar of Flight 914s engines gathering speed for take-off. The first person Vicki saw was Becky. There was a worried frown on the usually smiling face of Stewardess Becky
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Merriweather. Smile, Becky. Smile, Vicki whispered. In moments, the huge door of the jet clanged shut. Smiling, Becky and Vicki walked to the rear of the plane. There, they pulled down the folding wall seats used by stewardesses during take-offs and landings, and fastened their seat belts. The whine of the motors rose, then dropped. As the whine rose once more, the plane lurched forward, settled into a steady pace, and headed for its take-off runway. Vicki could feel the plane slew around as it headed into the two-mile-long strip of concrete it would use for its take-off. The huge aircraft trembled against its set brakes as Captain Mallinson revved up each of the four engines, one at a time, to take-off speed. With all four engines roaring, Captain Mallinson released the brakes and the plane leaped forward. It gathered speed slowly at first, then rolled faster and faster, rocking gently as its wheels turned more rapidly. The slight vibration ceased. Vicki knew that feeling. It was a glorious one. They were airborne. The jet climbed sharply at first, gaining altitude rapidly. It leveled off, swung out over the Atlantic Ocean in a sweeping turn, then headed west over southern Florida. Vicki unbuckled her seat belt and walked up to
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the flight deck. She opened the locked crew cabin and got her instructions from Captain Mallinson. Then she returned to the passenger cabin, and picked up the microphone hanging on the partition which separated the passenger cabin from the flight deck. As senior stewardess, one of Vickis duties was to greet the passengers and announce the flight information she had just received from Captain Mallinson. Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, Vicki began. Welcome aboard Federal Airlines Flight 908. My name is Vicki Barr, one of four stewardesses on board to serve you. The others are the Misses Rebecca Merriweather, Dolores Hinajosa, and Marian Coleman. Please call on us if there is anything you wish. The other three girls were already in the planes galley, preparing luncheon trays. You are flying on one of Federal Airlines newest, fastest jet planes. Our estimated flying time to San Francisco is six hours and thirty minutes. Although our take-off was delayed thirty minutes, Captain Mallinson informs me that he feels we will make up that time en route. We will be cruising at an altitude of thirty thousand feet, at a ground speed in excess of six hundred miles per hour. Vicki paused momentarily and glanced down the plane. Every passenger had his eyes on her, listening
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intently to her announcement. In a matter of moments, Vicki continued, we will be passing over the west coast of Florida and over the Gulf of Mexico. For this reason, it is necessary for us to demonstrate the life-preserver vestsyou probably know them better as Mae Wests. Although we will be flying over water only for an hour, it is required that you know how these vests are used. Then we will serve your lunch in about ten minutes. Enjoy your trip. Thank you. For the next ten minutes, the four stewardesses showed the passengers how the life-preserver vests were put on, and how they were inflated. At the same time, they showed the passengers how the oxygen masks were used. When the routine instruction was over, the stewardesses began serving the ninety-five lunch trays. As soon as lunch was over and the galley tidy, Vicki went up to the flight deck. She unlocked the door and entered. Captain Mallinson swung around as she entered. His calm, gray eyes smiled at her. The skies are still blue, Miss Barr, he said. Everything okay in the cabin? Just as smooth as your take-off was, Captain, Vicki replied. No suspicious characters, or actions? No suspicious actions, certainly. As for suspicious characterswell, they all look like any other
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passengers Ive flown with. Good. Just keep alert. Were fast leaving that hot little island to the south of Florida behind us. I would have thought that if anything was going to happen wed have had it by now. Well be back over land soon. May I make a suggestion, Captain? Vicki asked. You certainly may. Well, if anything were to happen, and I was forced to unlock the cabin, could you hear the key grating in the lock? Especially if I sort of fumble and seemed to be having trouble opening it? I doubt if I could, VickiMiss Barr. But Ralph, the flight engineer, could. How about it, Ralph? Ralph Carter, the flight engineer, sat at his desk facing the right wall of the plane, between the pilot and copilots seats, near the door. Sure. I always know when one of you pretty little things is coming in. Oh, good, Vicki said. Then if anything does happen, Ill fumble opening the door. That would give you a few seconds. It sure would, Captain Mallinson said. Time enough anyway to send our radio flash that the skies are cloudy. You really use that pretty head of yours, Miss Barr. Vicki smiled at Captain Mallinson and left the
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flight deck. As she made her way to the rear of the plane, a woman traveling with her baby stopped her. It was the childs feeding time. Miss, I wonder if you could warm my babys bottle for me? Why certainly, madam. Id be delighted. The woman fumbled in her childs nursing bag and extracted a bottle. Vicki looked into the wideopen, serious eyes of the baby. She was a beautiful child and Vickis heart warmed to her. Be back in a minute, Vicki said, taking the bottle to the galley. She chatted briefly with Becky as she warmed the bottle. Well be leaving the Gulf soon. Be back over land. I think Captain Mallinson feels once were over Texas were almost home free. Nearly half the trip will be completed. Has he been in communication with the other two flights? Becky asked. He told me the skies are still blue. So I suppose he must have been. Vicki shook a few drops of milk from the baby bottle onto the inside of her wrist. It felt comfortably warm. Back in a minute, Becky, she said, and started back to the mother and child. She was about eight seats away from where the
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woman and baby were seated when, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a man rise from an aisle seat just behind her. A chill of fear swept through her, although she couldnt tell why. Passengers often walked about the plane. The next moment she knew that her crazy feeling of fear had been justified. Vicki felt the pressure of a hard object against her back. The fateful words were said quietly but they roared into her brain. Keep walking as if nothing is happening. Right up to the crews compartment. No dead heroines, flashed through Vickis mind. She didnt panic. She walked steadily ahead. But her grip on the nursing bottle was so tight that the knuckles on her hand showed white.

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CHAPTER V

A Jet in Jeopardy

It was the woman with the baby who drew attention to Vickis predicament, to the danger awaiting everyone aboard the jetliner. As Vicki reached the womans seat, the mother looked up expectantly for the bottle. But Vicki didnt stop. Miss! Miss! The babys bottle is for me. Here. Then the woman noticed the man, only inches behind Vicki. Her eyes dropped down and she saw the ugly, black, snub-nosed gun the man had pressed in Vickis back. She screamed. Passengers swung around in their seats. Fright was written on all faces. Vicki, prodded by the gun in her back, moved on forward, holding a steady pace. Here! Here! Whats going on? A man in an aisle seat half rose. The gunman placed a hairy hand on his shoulder and thrust him roughly back down.
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Others in the plane started to rise, then sat back. A small girl threw her arms around her fathers neck and started sobbing. From the rear of the plane another voice was hearda harsh, gravelly voice. Watch iteveryone. If any of you try anything, therell be a bullet winging its way to that person. Im covering all of you. This man stood at the very last seat in the plane. He held a long-barreled revolver in his hand. It looked like a target pistol. From the steady way he held it, it was apparent that he could use it skillfully, and from the expression on his face, there could be no doubt that he would use it if necessary. The huge jet droned through the sky, clicking off ten miles with every ticking minute. Up front, in the flight deck, Captain Mallinson lighted a cigarette. His copilot, Tom Blanchard, was handling the controls. Flight Engineer Ralph Carter was checking their location. Good old Texas, he drawled. My home state. Right down below us. Vicki and her captor had reached the locked door of the flight deck. Now dont try anything! the gunman snarled. Dont try to give any warning. Dont say a thing when you open the door. And when you do, stand aside fast.
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49

Vicki felt a tremor of fear rush through her body. Did she dare even fumble with her key on opening the door? She wanted desperately to give some sort of warning. They had reached the locked door. The gunman moved to Vickis side. He pressed the gun in her ribs. Get on with it. No funny stuff. With those words, he jabbed the gun viciously into Vickis side. She winced with pain. She reached for the key attached to the belt of her skirt. Her hands were trembling. For a moment she almost gave way to hysterical laughter. She thought wildly, her hands trembling, Its a good thing I dont have to fake a smooth unlocking. The key clinked against the lock. Steadying her hand, she managed to start inserting it in the locks slit. A tremor she didnt fake made her hand pull away in a nervous jerk. Come on! Come on! Hurry up! Vicki tried again. She got the key in the lock. She turned it to the right until the spring lock was almost released. She let it slip back, deliberately delaying now. Her nervousness had suddenly left her. Did she dare try the same trick again? She decided to chance it. Once more she nearly had the door catch all the way back. Once more she let it slip back.
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A quick glance at the gunmans face was all Vicki needed to know she couldnt try a third time. He was scowling at her in fury. He jabbed the gun in her ribs again. Vicki said to herself, I hope Ive given them some warning. I pray Carter has heard me. She turned the key. The door swung inward. The gunman roughly pushed Vicki inside. He leaped through the door, swung at Flight Engineer Carter with the barrel of his gun, then plunged his left arm over Copilot Blanchards shoulders and pulled the master radio switch on the instrument panel. Flight 908 was cut off from the world below. The gunman leveled his revolver at Captain Mallinsons head. Ill use this gun the second you bat an eye. Dont try anything. My partners have the rest of the plane at gunpoint. So theres nothing to do if you want to continue being a live fly-boy. Captain Mallinson said nothing. For a moment his silence seemed to disconcert the gunman. You heard what I said? Captain Mallinson nodded his head. And dont think you can pull that line about whos going to fly the plane if I have to knock the three of you off. I can land this crate. That I doubt, Captain Mallinson said softly. Oh, yeah! Youll never know. Because youll be
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dead and gone if I have to take over the controls. So just take my word for it, fly-boy, and do exactly what I say. A second man appeared in the doorway. His hand grasped the butt of a revolver. Okay, Lou. You hold your gun on these boys while the captain and I have a long, cozy talk. Hows Tinker doing in the back? Okay. Hes got his gun ready to take care of any troublemaker. What about the passengers? They dont like it, Boss. Couple of the dames have passed out and some kids screaming her head off. Looked to me like there might be one or two guys who might try to get noble and get dead instead. Tinker will take care of them. Captain Mallinson spoke up. You know what will happen if your gunman gets careless and puts a bullet through the skin of this ship? he asked calmly. You tell us, the gunman boss replied. Were flying at thirty-two thousand feet. Were pressurized for ground level, where the atmosphere is many times heavier than it is outside at this height. A bullet hole, even the smallest, will allow the heavier air inside to rush out. The rushing air will tear that small hole into a large one. It might take a whole panel off. If that happens, thin air will
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rush back in and well all be asphyxiated in seconds. The boss gunman turned to his henchman. Go back and tell Tinker if he has to use his gun, to use the butt of it. Right on the dome of any of those would-be heroes who look like they want to start something. Then get right back here. Lou left the flight deck. Now, Captain, lets you and me talk. First off, I want you to make a sharp left turna full ninety degrees and enough more degrees to head for the west coast of South America. Once thats done, Ill tell you what to do next. Captain Mallinson frowned. He looked at Vicki. She could see his face set in an expression of grim determination. Before we go any farther, Captain Mallinson said, and his voice was firm, there are certain things you must permit me to do. Youll do just what youre told. The safety of my passengers comes first, Captain Mallinson continued, ignoring the gunmans interruption. I am perfectly willing to abide by any of your orders, as long as they dont involve safety. Dont forgetIm one of your passengers, too, the gunman said, a leering grin on his face. I couldnt care less for your safety, or that of your hoodlum pals.
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Dont go too far, fly-boy. The gunman raised his revolver. Captain Mallinson paid no attention. Ill head this plane in the direction you ordered. But the change in course will be noticed by the passengers and further alarm them. Your man Lou has already stated that some of the passengers have fainted. All must be near panic. I suppose even you can understand what may happen if the passengers panic. Go ahead. Im listening. I want you to release Miss Barr. I want you to permit her and the other stewardesses to administer to the passengers. They must be told that all is well up here, and they are not to worry. The boss thought this over for several moments. I must make an announcement as to what has happened. Miss Barr can fill in further details. Okay, Captain. But let the dame make the announcement. You and me got to start talking right away. Captain Mallinson spoke to Vicki. You know what to say. Assure the passengers that no one up here has been hurt. The plane is under control. Yeah. The gunman grinned. By me. His henchman, Lou, returned. Take this babe back with you, Lou, the boss
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ordered. Let her and the other gals take care of the passengers. Okay, Boss. Come on you. Entering the passenger compartment, Vicki could see that conditions were rapidly getting out of hand. She noticed three women in the first eight seats lying back unconscious. Others were moaning and wailing. The little girl still clung to her father, sobbing in short, breathless gasps. Vicki picked up the microphone. Ladies and gentlemen . . . She spoke in a sharp, crisp, commanding voice. Ladies and gentlemen, there is nothing to fear. You must remain calm. This aircraft has been hijacked. There was no violence. Captain Mallinson is at the controls. He has been ordered to put the plane on a southerly course. We do not know as yet where the hijackers intend landing. Now, the other stewardesses and I have work to do. Please, please cooperate. Do not antagonize the gunmen. I shall keep you fully informed and answer any questions. But first, we must administer to those passengers who have fainted. Vickis straightforward explanation, her firm, calm voice, had a magical effect. The passengers looked at her carefully. The moans and wails decreased. Vicki could sense that she had said the right thing, taken the correct attitude. She strode firmly,
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purposefully down the aisle. Get the walk-around bottles, she quickly told her three associates. There are three women up front who have fainted. Any back here? Yes. Two more, Dolores answered. And that little girl who is crying so hard ought to have some, Becky added. All right. Lets work fast. The walk-around bottles were small, sausageshaped cylinders containing oxygen. They were used when a passenger had lost consciousness and was unable to use the oxygen mask which was suspended over his seat. The girls worked swiftly, efficiently. They placed the rubber breathing masks over the mouths of the women who had fainted. In minutes, all had revived. Keeping them calm on revival was a problem. Vicki and Marian moved quickly to the seat of any woman who seemed to be verging on hysterics. There now. Feeling better? Vicki took the hand of a woman whose eyes were rolling in terror. She stroked the womans forehead. Everything is all right. You have nothing to fear, Vicki said. The woman shivered. Get a blanket, quickly, Vicki said to Becky. Vicki saw evidence of shock. This woman must be kept warm.
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Becky brought back a blanket. Vicki settled down beside the woman, tucked the blanket around her, and kept talking to her in a low, steady voice. Marian Coleman came up. Vicki, Captain Mallinson wants you on the flight deck. Right away. Ill take over here. Vicki went forward, worried about the urgency in Marians voice.

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CHAPTER VI

The Winner Loses

So much had happened since Flight 908 had taken off from Miami that time had gone by at the same fast rate of speed as that of the huge jetliner, now soaring over the east coast of Mexico. Vicki glanced at her watch and was amazed to see that two hours had passed. Vicki felt the muscles in her throat tighten as she approached the door to the flight deck, now open and swaying gently back and forth with the planes motion. A sudden thought struck her just before she passed through the doorway. None of the three hijackers in any way resembled the three men she had seen and overheard the day before in Miami. Two of those men had been swarthy. She had thought they were Latin Americans, particularly since they had spoken idiomatic Spanish, not the Castilian Spanish taught in schools and used in Spain. The third man had been fair. None of the
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three men who had hijacked the plane and now had it under their control looked Latin-American. Two of these men were fair-complexioned. Only the man called Boss had dark, leathery skin. But there was no trace of a foreign accent in his speech. Vicki was also puzzled about the relationship among the three hijackers and the three men who had aroused her suspicions in Florida. There had to be some connection, she was sure, but what? The situation on the flight deck showed only one change since Vicki had left it. How long ago? Five minutes? Ten? Half an hour? Time had lost all meaning under these strained flight conditions. Captain Mallinson was still at the controls. Copilot Blanchard sat on his right. The seat usually occupied by Flight Engineer Carter now held the swarthy hoodlum boss. Carter was leaning against the opposite side of the cabin, directly behind Mallinson. The boss smiledif his grimace could be called a smileat Vicki as she entered. Holding his gun just above his crossed legs, the hoodlum kept it leveled at Mallinson. You wanted me, Captain? Vicki asked. Her voice was calm. Her nerves were under control. She didnt look at the gun-holding hijacker. Her query was as normal as if she had merely come onto the flight deck to serve the crew coffee.
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Yes, Miss Barr. Klaxby Captain Mallinson with a motion of his head indicated the man referred to before only as Boss. Klaxby has decided Hold it! Lets you and me finish our little talk, fly-boy, Klaxby said, his gruff voice suddenly calm and nonchalant. Just take it easy, miss. This aint going to take long. Before speaking, Klaxby took out a cigar and lighted it. Almost unconsciously, Vicki started to tell him that cigar smoking was not permitted on the plane. At the thought of what she had almost said, she had difficulty suppressing a giggle. When his cigar was going to his liking, Klaxby took up where he had left off. Now, first off, just how much fuel you got left in this crate? How far are we going? Captain Mallinson demanded. Klaxbys hackles rose. Look here, fly-boy, Im asking the questions. You just hand out with the answers. Okay, then, you figure it out. We have about sixty-three thousand pounds. Figuring were burning up around fourteen thousand pounds an hour, then . . . Hold it! Whats this pounds business? I want to know how many gallons and how many miles we get on a gallon.
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Captain Mallinson shrugged his shoulders. He looked at Vicki. She thought she saw him close one eyelid in a confidential wink. Was he baiting Klaxby? Baiting him deliberately to get him to reveal their destination? Gallons, Klaxby? We dont figure out fuel in gallons. We figure it in pounds. Get to the pointand fast! I want gallons and how far theyll take us. We got a long way to go. Klaxby had leaned forward. You wouldnt understand if I told you. Try me, wise guy, Klaxby shot back. Captain Mallinson didnt answer at once. You said weve got a long way to go? Thats right. Vicki saw a worried expression flash across Captain Mallinsons face. Klaxby, youd better give me a definite idea of how far weve got to go. Youd never be able to understand how we estimate diminishing fuel supply. What do you know about specific gravity? About what? Specific what did you say? I thought so, Captain Mallinson said. You thought what? That I could give you a lecture in specific gravity, fuel temperature, altitude, rate of consumption, and all other factors we must take into consideration, and you still wouldnt read me.
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You keep on trying to mix me up and youre going to make me real sore. And when I get real sore, it dont go very good with the guy who makes me sore. Then you tell me how far were going and Ill tell you if we can make it. Captain Mallinsons voice was filled with controlled anger. How fast we going? Klaxby countered. Our ground speed is about six hundred and twenty-five miles per hour. Okay, give it to me straight and simple. How many more hours can you keep this crate up with the fuel you got left? At our present rate of consumption, we have between three and four hours of flying time left. Klaxby did some mental calculation. You got, maybe, like four hours fuel left. About that. Guess we can just make it, Klaxby said. Vicki saw a frown crease Captain Mallinsons forehead. She felt a twinge of worry, too. If our destination is Cuba, we have an ample supply of fuel, Mallinson said. Who said anything about Cuba? Were not going to Cuba. Klaxbys eyebrows raised. His mouth twisted into an ironic smile. The announcement was followed by moments of silence. Vicki broke it.
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Where are we going, then? she asked. If we knew that, Captain, she said, still refusing to speak directly to Klaxby, if we knew our destination, we could handle the passengers much better. Thats the one question they all ask. Then you and the other girls have things under control with the passengers? Mallinson asked. As well as we can under these conditions. I feel sure that we would be able to handle the passengers much better if we could tell them where were going, she insisted. What about it, Klaxby? Ive got to have that information too, Captain Mallinson said. Ive got to estimate if we have sufficient fuel. Ive also got to know about the length of landing runways. You cant set a ship this size down on runways that will take only prop planes. Dont worry so much, fly-boy. Ill tell you where youre going. Just keep heading like you are. Right now, we got about twenty-five hundred miles, maybe a little less, to go. Think we can make it? Twenty-five hundred miles! I hope you know what youre going, Klaxby. Even if you have estimated the distance correctly, well be cutting it very fine. Where is this place? Ever heard of a place called Windy Island? In Spanish, they call it Isla de Ventoso. Captain Mallinson shook his head.
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How bout the rest of you? Klaxby looked at Vicki and the other two men. Maybe then youve heard of the Republic of Guairacorda? Klaxby said next. None of the three men recognized the country. Vicki thought hard. She was positive she had heard of the country, but she could recall little about it. Isnt it off the west coast of South America? Vicki asked. She spoke directly to Klaxby now. Little lady, you get a hundred. Thats where it is. Off the coast of Peru. So, just keep the nose of this crate heading for Peru, Captain, and youll be doing just fine, Klaxby continued. Just a minute, Klaxby, Captain Mallinson said. How far off the coast of Peru is this island? Klaxby thought for a few moments. Maybe like a hundred and fifty miles. Anywhere near Lima? Yeah. I guess so. Not quite so far down as Lima, though. North of Lima, I remember. Youre a big help, Klaxby. You tell me how were going to find that small island far out in the Pacific, and somewhere north of Perus capital. Captain Mallinsons statement was heavy with sarcasm. Well find it, Klaxby said grimly. Theres hardly any chance of our finding that island, Klaxby. Federal is a domestic airline. We
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dont carry foreign navigational charts. I cant tell, with any degree of exactitude, where we are right now. If we could use our radio, I could get a position fix. That would help. Oh, no, you dont. You arent pulling any tricks like that on me. You may think its a trick. But it isnt. Without charts, without radio, were lost. Klaxby seemed to be taking this information seriously. Cant you just fly along the coast of Peru, keeping out to sea, until we spot the island? Not a chance. That islands no more than a pinpoint in the Pacific. It would be pure luck if we hit it. And since we are already so low on fuel, we cant cruise around, hoping to pick it out. Weve got to hug the coast of Peru and hope to pick up Lima. Otherwise, were going into the ocean. No, we wont, fly-boy. We keep going just like we are, and were going to be all right. I got some maps. They aint exactly the kind you guys use, but maybe theyll help. Dont get the idea Klaxby wants to go into the drink. Klaxby reached into his inside coat pocket and pulled out two pages of maps, evidently ripped out of a large atlas. He handed them to Captain Mallinson. These help you out? Mallinson, then Blanchard and Carter pored over
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the maps as if they revealed the location of a fabulous buried treasure. To them, the location of Guairacorda was of more value than the greatest fortune. The three men talked quietly to one another for several minutes. Finally Captain Mallinson said: These are poor substitutes for aviation charts. But theyre maps, and theyll have to do. We can now figure out approximately where we are. Still, finding that speck of an island is going to be tough. We can judge pretty well when were a hundred and fifty miles off the coast. Thats about as far as we can see a land mass from this altitude. Well cruise at that distance offshore from Peru and he paused, smiling at Vickiand just hope. Vicki returned to the question that had been bothering her ever since the island republic had been named as their destination. Why Guairacorda? Vicki asked herself. She couldnt remember that countrys being in the headlines recently. In fact, it was rare that the tiny republic ever made any news. It had at one time though, Vicki remembered. But why? She shook her head. She just couldnt recall the facts. Okay, Klaxby said to Captain Mallinson. Now you know where youre going. So, tell this little lady why you called her up here. Klaxby insists that one of the stewardesses stay
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up here at all times. If he wants to communicate with his two henchmen guarding the passengers, the stewardess is to take the message to them. I see, Vicki replied. In her mind, she saw a lot more, quite a lot. Did Klaxby want a messenger, or did he want a hostage? Vicki felt certain that Klaxby would do nothing to the three-man crew. They were too essential to his plans. They had to fly the plane. But a stewardess? There were four of them. Wouldnt Klaxby consider any one of the four expendable? It was a desperate thought, and Vicki shuddered as the cold fact of it poured through her mind like ice water. All right, Captain Mallinson. One of us will come forward immediately. She left the flight deck more worried than she had been at any time so far. If Klaxby wanted to force an issue, wouldnt he use his stewardess-messenger as the sacrificial lamb to make Captain Mallinson do his bidding? At least, wouldnt he threaten bodily harm to the girl? Klaxby was a reckless man on a desperate adventure. Vicki, although acting as senior stewardess, did not feel that she had the right to command one of the other three to serve Klaxby. By doing so, she would be placing that girl in jeopardy. Vicki was so filled with this thought that it wasnt
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until the second passenger had halted her, asking if she knew where they were headed, that she remembered to make her announcement. She retraced her steps and picked up the mike. Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention? . . . Thank you. We have been commanded to take this plane to the Republic of Guairacorda. The Republic is located on a small islandWindy Islandwhich is off the coast of Peru, north of Lima. All is well on the flight deck. There is nothing to worry about. Passengers leaned out of their seats and bent their heads together to discuss their strange destination. What kind of place was Guairacorda? Why were they going there? The same questions echoed through Vickis mind as the huge jetliner droned southward. She summoned the other three stewardesses to the planes galley. Klaxbythats the mans name whos running thingsinsists that one of us remain on the flight deck. Im not going to ask for volunteers. Well all write our names on small slips of paper, fold them, and drop them in a coffee cup. Then, Becky, you draw out one name. That will be the stewardess to serve as Klaxbys messenger. Solemnly the four girls wrote out their names. Each folded her slip of paper carefully. The four
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slips of paper were placed in a coffee cup. All right, Becky, Vicki said. Becky put her index finger in the cup. She stirred the four slips of paper. Then she covered her eyes with her left hand, reached in, and pulled out a name. All waited breathlessly for Becky to read the name. Beckys round eyes seemed even larger as she looked at the slip of paper she had pulled from the cup. Its . . . its you, Vicki! An ironic thought flashed through Vickis mind. She had won the draw, but was she really a winner, or a loser?

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CHAPTER VII

Pinpoint in an Ocean

Vicki shrugged off her own question and turned to Dolores Hinajosa. She knew that Dolores was of Spanish extraction and might even have been born in a South American country. Dolores, do you know anything about a small South American country called Guairacorda? You heard me announce thats where the hijackers have ordered us to go. Ive been there, was Dolores startling reply. You have? Tell us about the place! Not much to tell. And its been a long time since I was there, Dolores replied. I was born in Peru. Lived there until my family moved to the States when I was twelve. When we lived in Lima, Guairacorda was quite a fashionable resort. People in Lima used to go to the island during our hot summer months. Its way out in the Pacificone hundred and fifty miles or more, and the sea breezes cool the whole island. Its mountainous, too, so you
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can have a combination of mountain and seashore. Whats it like today? Vicki asked. Is it the same? Hardly. No Peruvian of any standing would think of going to the place now. Its filled with criminals. Criminals! Dolores nodded her head. What do you mean? Vicki pressed the question. She was conscious of the fact that Klaxby up on the flight deck might wonder why it was taking so long for one of the stewardesses to get up there. Oh, about eight or nine years ago, the government was taken over by a new regimethe socalled Rebels of Reform. Rebeldes de la Reforma was the Spanish name for the movement. Reform! It is a laugh. All they did was to reform the government to their own likinginto the tightest dictatorship South America has ever known. But the criminals you mentioned? Vicki asked. It was like this, Vicki. The tourist trade was Guairacordas biggest source of income. But when the new government seized control, most South American countries cut off diplomatic relations. The tourist trade dropped to nothing. So, Rafael Perez Sotohes the president, the dictatorlashed back by cutting off the extradition agreements with just about every country in the world.
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You mean that any criminal fleeing to Guairacorda cant be brought back to the country that wants him? Vicki asked. Thats right. And since the island is beautiful, with several fancy hotels and beach clubs, it became a haven for big-time gangsters from all over the world. And President Perez Soto charges them a high fee for the protection he gives them. With this explanation, Vicki felt she was getting closer to an answer to the mystery of why the jetliner had been hijacked, but there were still many missing parts to the jigsaw puzzle. Ive got to get up to the flight deck. Every once in a while one of you come up and keep me informed. A question kept burning in Vickis mind with growing intensity. Had the plane been hijacked so that a notorious criminal could flee the United States? Had he jumped his bond while awaiting trial and was he escaping to enjoy his illegally gained wealth on Windy Island? If such were the case, all ports, sea and air, would be closely guarded to prevent such an escape. What notorious racketeer had been in the news lately? Vicki was an avid newspaper reader. Matters of crime, though, were not of great interest to her. She wished now that she had read the papers for such news more carefully in recent weeks.
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Vicki re-entered the flight deck. Everything under control, Miss Barr? Captain Mallinson asked. Some of the passengers are still restless. All of them are worried, Vicki replied. Thats to be expected, though. Nothing to be worried about, little lady, Klaxby said. Just as long as nobody tries anything foolish. He looked up at Vicki with a smug leer on his face. Hey, I could use a cup of coffee. Trot back there and get me one. The jetliner continued on its smooth, swift course. Mexico had been left behind. Vicki knew they now must be flying over Central America. She knew that on the course they were heading, they would fly over Guatemala, Honduras, Nicaragua, and Costa Rica. Soon they should be out over the Pacific. It was a race against time now. Each minute the jets fuel supply was growing lower and lower. The plane had been air-borne for four and a half hours. A little over two hours ago, Captain Mallinson had estimated he had sufficient fuel for nearly four hours more flying. That meant that at this moment now, the plane had under two hours of fuel left. Vicki did some more fast calculating. When Captain Mallinson had tried to explain to Klaxby how a jets fuel load and its consumption was fig73

ured, he had said he had four hours of fuel remaining. Klaxby had said they still had 2,500 miles to go. The planes ground speed at that time had been 625 miles per hour. With the lightening fuel load, the planes speed would increase. Not a whole lot, but some. Four hours of fuel at 625 miles per hour meant they would reach their destination with fuel tanks nearly empty. The only reserve would be that gained from the planes increased speed with its lighter fuel load. Suddenly Vicki felt they would never make it. She had a mental picture of the plane ditching in the Pacific, its fuel tanks empty. Ahead, Vicki could now see the broad expanse and the sparkling blue waters of the Pacific Ocean. Was that body of water to be the planesand her final landing place? The same thoughts evidently were running through Captain Mallinsons mind. He turned to Klaxby. His face was grim. Were off the coast of Colombia now, Klaxby. My fuels running low. Less than two hours. Well be off Guayaquil, Ecuador, in half an hour. Im going to have to put in there. I cant risk having to ditch this plane in the Pacific. If I have to set down in the ocean, none of us will have a chance. Klaxby shrugged his shoulders, but Vicki thought she could detect a worried expression clouding the
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mans leathery face. What about it, Klaxby? Captain Mallinsons tone of voice was cold and foreboding. Do you want to end up drowning like the rat you are? Klaxby leveled his gun at Captain Mallinson at these words. Vicki felt her heart pounding rapidly. One more crack like that, fly-boy, and youre going to get it. Now you just shut that big mouth of yours and do what youre told. Klaxby sat forward. His shoulders were hunched. Anger showed in his eyes. To Vicki, he looked like pure evil. Captain Mallinson spoke to his flight engineer. I want ten-minute checks on our fuel supply. Yes, sir, Carter replied. Tenseness on the flight deck was electric. Everyone felt it. It had now become a race with time. Vicki shuddered. She knew that never had she been so near death as she was at this moment. Her thoughts went back to the passengers and to her fellow stewardesses. They must be getting worried, too. The stewardesses probably knew that the plane couldnt remain aloft much longer. And beneath them was the ocean. Twelve thousand pounds, Captain, Carter called out. Did that mean a full hour, or less than an hours fuel left? Vicki breathed the question to herself. It
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all depended, she knew, on flying conditions. Did they have a favorable wind, or a head wind? They should be consuming less fuel now than at take-off, since the planes weight was less at high altitude. That would be true under normal or favorable conditions. And if they were consuming less, how much less? Ten thousand pounds, Captain. Carters voice was like a chant, a sober, frightening chant. Figures flashed through Vickis worried mind. They had consumed two thousand pounds in the last ten minutes. For a moment this figuring gave her hope. They were consuming less fuel. At take-off, they were burning up 14,000 pounds an hourjust over 230 pounds a minute, or 2,300 pounds every ten minutes. This heartening calculation lasted briefly. They might be consuming less fuel, but how far did they still have to go? Im going to have to start my descent, Klaxby, Captain Mallinson said. If Im going to have to ditch, I dont want to do it from this altitude. Wed plummet into the ocean like a meteorite. Captain Mallinson nosed the plane downward. Just under eight thousand pounds, Captain, Flight Engineer Carter announced. Less than forty minutes of fuel left. Enough for four hundred miles. Captain Mallinson, Vicki said excitedly, one
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of the stewardesses, Dolores Hinajosa, has been to Guairacorda. Do you think she might be able to help spot it? Get her! Captain Mallinson snapped his reply. Moments later, the flight deck was crowded. The three-man flight crew, Vicki, and Dolores strained their eyes, trying to pick out a pinpoint of land in the vast expanse of the Pacific Ocean. Heres something that might help, Captain, Dolores said. Theres a plateau on top of one of the mountains. Its called Mesa CalvoBald Plateau. Might be a splash of white against the green of the surrounding trees, Captain Mallinson said. Keep your eyes peeled for it. Six thousand pounds, Captain, Carter called out. Thirty minutes to go before the plane would have to ditch! All five had forgotten the presence of the man who had placed them in such great danger. They were all too intent on locating the island that would be their haven. Vicki was straining her eyes to the point where she had to blink them every few moments to clear her vision. Four thousand pounds. Had ten minutes sped by so quickly? There was nothing ahead except water. Vicki pressed her eyelids tightly closed. When she opened
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them, she looked to her right instead of straight ahead. She did this so that on renewing her forward gaze, she might have a better perspective. Just before she turned her head, she thought she saw a small, dark mass, perhaps fifty miles to the planes right. To make certain, she closed her eyes once again, then took another look. The dark mass was still there. Two thousand pounds, Captain, Carter chanted. About ten minutes of flying time left. Enough for sixty miles, perhaps seventy-five. Could that dark mass be the island they were so desperately searching for? It might be a ship, with dark smoke rising from its funnels. If it was the island, how could they all have missed it? Had they been so intent on staring straight ahead that it had escaped them all until now? Captain! Captain! Over there. To your right! Vicki shouted excitedly. All swerved their heads. Captain Mallinson banked sharply to the right. Cant tell. Might be the island. And if its a ship, we can ditch near it. As the plane sped toward the dark mass, it began to take form. Five minutes went by. Only one thousand pounds left, Captain. It is! It is! Vicki and Dolores called out triumphantly. Its the island!
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None of the three men spoke. They were too intent on flying the plane. With only five minutes flying time left, the big job now was to get to the island, find the airfield, and hope against hope they would be able to land the giant jetliner on their first pass at it. They would have to roar in and make a successful landing on their first attempt. There wouldnt be enough fuel for any second try.

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CHAPTER VIII

Windy Island

The island seemed to be rushing toward them. Mesa Calvo was plainly visible. Captain Mallinson continued his descent. He came down to two thousand feet. It seemed to Vicki that the jetliner was barely skimming over the water at this altitude. Fishing boats could be seen. Now the shore line and its white sandy beaches were plainly visible. Any idea which way the landing strip runs? Captain Mallinson asked. Vicki looked at Dolores, who shook her head. Get back in the cabin, both of you, Captain Mallinson ordered. See that everyone has his seat belt strapped on. And tight. Take the usual crash precautions. This may be rough. Vicki read the thought that must be in his mind. The landing might not only be rough; it might be a crash landing. The plane roared over the beaches. It sped over
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the red-tiled roofs of the town of San Mateo, the capital of Guairacorda. At the edge of the town, there came to the strained eyes of the crew the happiest sight they could hope foran airplane hangar. From the top of its roof, a wind sock could be seen. Windy Island was well named. The sock stood straight out, pointing at the onrushing plane. Luck was with them. They would be landing into the wind. From her window seat in the rear of the plane, Vicki saw the landing strip. Her relief was so great that tears came into her eyes. Tense seconds passed. Then the crunch of tires on concrete was felt. They had touched down! Captain Mallinson reversed the thrust of his four jet engines, using them as brakes. As the plane lost some of its initial landing speed, Mallinson applied his brakes, gently at first, then with full force. The plane swerved, bucked, and nearly nosed over. Why had this expert pilot taken such, a chance? Vicki asked herself. Looking out her window, she saw the answer. Only a fragile wooden fence had stood between the onrushing plane and oblivion. The plane had crashed through the fence, then slewed around as it hit rough ground. Vicki quickly unsnapped her seat belt and hurried to the flight deck. As she entered, she saw Captain
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Mallinson leaning back in his seat. His eyes were closed. Beads of perspiration covered his face. He was exhausted. But he had brought the huge plane into a safe landing. From the height of the flight deck above the ground, Vicki had a clear view ahead. She gasped as she looked out the window. Only fifty feet away was the edge of a cliff. It must, she realized, drop to rock-strewn waters below. Fifty more feet and the plane would have plunged over that cliff and been destroyed. Captain Mallinson opened his eyes. He turned and looked at Vicki, a feeble smile on his face. We made it, Miss Barr. Vicki wished desperately she could think of an appropriate response. But what was there to say? Any form of congratulations would seem trite. To compliment him on his skill and his courage would only embarrass him. The flight engineer spared her the necessity of any comment. Yes, Captain, we just did, Carter said. You might say we landed on the vapor left in the tanks. There sure isnt any fuel in them. The indicators point to E for empty. Any more flights like this, Captain, Copilot Blanchard said, and Im going to become a door-todoor salesman. You mean we dont have enough fuel to taxi this
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crate up to the hangar? The three crewmen and Vicki turned to the speaker. They had forgotten him completely. It was almost as if Klaxby hadnt existed for the past half hour. You heard what the flight engineer said, Captain Mallinson replied. Then how am I going to get there? Klaxby asked. Captain Mallinson stared at Klaxby. A look of total disbelief covered his face. Then the captain started to laugh. The laugh started as a low chuckle. It grew and grew, until the captain was roaring. Vicki knew what was happening. With tension gone, a wave of relief had set in. Momentarily, Captain Mallinson was giving in to that glorious feeling of relief. But only momentarily. He wiped tears of laughter from his eyes and turned again to Klaxby. You ask how youre going to get to the hangar? I couldnt care less. He almost shouted these last words. Well, okay, wise guy. But I want out. And quick. Captain Mallinson looked at Vicki. Activate the emergency slide by the front passenger door, Miss Barr. Im as anxious to get this man out of the plane as he is to get out.
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Vicki left the flight deck. She called Dolores to help her. The two girls opened the front door. The emergency slide was suspended just inside the door. Vicki pulled the lanyard which allowed the slide to drop into place. Next, Vicki pulled the handle releasing the carbon dioxide which inflated the slide. It dropped to the ground below, inflating into a semirigid form at the same time. Captain Mallinson and Klaxby had come into the cabin, to watch the operation. There you are, Klaxby, Captain Mallinson said. Klaxby eyed the slide warily. He called his henchman, Tinker. Take a slide down this thing, he ordered Tinker. I want to see how it works. Klaxby didnt want to risk being the first to go down. Tinker did as he was told. He got on the rubber slide and shot down it. Okay, Boss, he called back, once he was on the ground. Its safe enough. Klaxby looked down at Tinker, then looked closely at the slide again. He turned and signaled Lou to join him. Look, Lou. Youre going to stay in the plane. Tinker and I are going on ahead. Dont let anyone use that radio. If they try, shoot. Get me? I get you, Boss, Lou said. From the look on Lous face, Vicki felt he would welcome the op84

portunity to use his gun. Well, here I go! Klaxby said. Wait a minute, Klaxby, Captain Mallinson said. His voice was crisp and firm. We got you here, Klaxby. Whats the next move? What do we tell the passengers? What happens to the plane? Nothing. This crate sits here until I need it again, Klaxby replied. One of my men is going to be guarding this plane night and day. Were going to need it again. Need it again! For what? When? Captain Mallinson was astounded. Youll find out. When? When I tell you, Klaxby growled. During the conversation, two open cars had come down the landing strip. Keep a sharp eye on everything, Lou, Klaxby said. Ill get back to you soon. Okay, Boss. Klaxby went down the slide. Vicki turned to Captain Mallinson. What now? she asked. Youve got me. This is a turn of affairs I never expected. It doesnt look as if Klaxby hijacked this plane for any governmenteven this dictatorship here in Guairacorda. What does it all mean?
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Captain Mallinson looked puzzled. They had no time for further speculation or conversation. Passengers were shouting questions, demanding answers. Talk to them over the mike, Vicki, Captain Mallinson said. Ill go back and see if I can get any information out of the man Klaxby left behind. Yes, Captain. Vicki picked up the hand mike. Ladies and gentlemen, I wish we had the answers to your questions, she said. Actually, we know no more about why we have come to this isolated island than you do. Captain Mallinson is now questioning the man left behind. He will pass on any information he can get. Vicki paused as a man arose midway in the plane. Miss, he called, are we to be permitted to leave the plane? Im sorry, sir. I dont know. Perhaps Captain Mallinson will find that out. As Vicki finished speaking, Captain Mallinson joined her. He took the mike from her hands. This is a real puzzle, he said. There was a quizzical smile on his face. According to the man left to guard the plane, all of us are free to do as we want. Except, of course, to try to get it air-borne or to use the planes radio. This island, we have learned, was once a very popular summer resort.
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There are plenty of very good hotels, I am told. Miss Hinajosa, one of your stewardesses, summered on this island several years ago. Im sure that she will be most willing to act as your guide. Will you come forward, Miss Hinajosa? Dolores joined Vicki and the captain, who said: I have only this suggestion to make. For the time being, I think it wise that we all try to secure rooms in the same hotel. I will hold a daily briefing to keep you as up to date as Klaxby keeps us. Now, since there is no portable stairway, deplaning is going to be an unusual experience for all of you. It is not dangerous, however. I think that for you who have small children, it would be better to let one of the stewardesses take the child down the slide. Im going down now. Ill send the remaining car outside to bring other cars. It would be a mighty hot, nearly two-mile walk to the hangar. Before we join you, I must have a meeting with my crew. Well all go into San Mateo and settle down and see what happens. Thats all I can tell you now. A passenger arose. Captain, I should think you would want to telephone or cable the United States immediately. Thats the first thing Im going to do. Ive got a family back there. I dont want them to worry. Captain Mallinson shook his head. Sir, that was
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the first thought that came into my mind. But it cant be done. The government here has tight controls on all communications. I was told that it will be impossible for any of us to send any message to the outside world. I shall try, of course, but Ive been told my efforts will be useless. Thats all for now. Captain Mallinson replaced the mike on its hook and turned to Vicki. Im going outside to see if that car will go in and bring back a bus or a fleet of cars. Help the passengers deplane, then I want the whole crew to meet with me immediately after the plane is empty. Captain Mallinson went down the slide. Ladies and gentlemenVicki had picked up the mikeI suggest that you take with you only those things essential for your immediate needs. Once we are located, we will bring in any baggage you want. DoloresVicki turned to her costewardessdo you know the name of any hotel here? The one my family stayed at was the Bolivar Plaza. I remember it as a very fine hotel. It may be run-down now. I think you all heard what Miss Hinajosa just told me. Well go to the Bolivar Plaza, and if it seems to be all right, well register there. The passengers started lining up to use the slide. Captain Mallinson came crawling up the slide and
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re-entered the plane. He had a word with each passenger, reassuring them, telling them transportation was being arranged. When the last passenger had deplaned, the crew of Flight 908 assembled. Were going to have to play this by ear, Captain Mallinson said. So keep your ears sharply tuned for any bit of information you can pick up. Any bit of gossip from the natives as to why were here. Lou, the man in the flight deck, tells me that Klaxby is going to keep a round-the-clock guard on the plane. Were going to do the same. There are three of us. Blanchard, Carter, and myself will stand eight-hour-guard shifts. I think it best that one of you stewardesses stay with the passengers at all times. At least make yourself available. Your presence alone will be reassuring. Of course, its going to be a bit lonely for us on guard duty, so if any of you would like to drop inwelcome. Everyone smiled. Id just love to drop in, Captain Mallinson, Becky said. You can count on lil ole me. There was a worried expression on Marian Colemans face. Do you think were in any danger, Captain? Marian asked. I wish I knew, Miss Coleman. All the elements for an explosive situation exist. But, for the moment,
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all we can do is await developments. Captain Mallinson turned to Flight Engineer Carter. Ralph, you take the first guard duty. I think my place right now is with the passengers also. Okay by me, Captain. Im getting powerful hungry, though. Everyone automatically looked at his watch. It was eight thirty. They had left Miami at twelve thirty P.M. They had been air-borne seven and a half hours, and a half hour had passed since their landing. Is the time here the same as it is back in the States? Becky asked. I hadnt thought of that, Captain Mallinson said. Im sure theres very little difference, Vicki said. If you visualize the maps of North and South America, our east coast is almost in line with the west coast of South America. So there shouldnt be any time change. Youre right, Miss Barr, Captain Mallinson said. Another thing, Dolores cut in. November means fall to North Americans. But its the beginning of spring here. So, arent we all lucky we have summer clothes with us? Its nice to know that we have some luck. This remark came from the copilot, Tom Blanchard.
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The beeping of horns from outside brought an end to the conference. Three large but ramshackle buses had pulled up. Lets go, Captain Mallinson said. Ralph, Ill send you out a hot meal. Ill be out to see you later. Tom will relieve you at four thirty tomorrow morning. Vicki went down the slide, then boarded a bus, wondering what lay in store during the enforced stay in Guairacorda.

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CHAPTER IX

Where To Next?

It was nine thirty before the ninety-five passengers of hijacked Flight 908 were settled in the Bolivar Plaza Hotel. The hotel, once the islands show place, had become somewhat rundown in recent years, ever since tourist trade had fallen off. But traces of its former magnificence could still be seen, and there were plenty of empty rooms. The manager wrung his hands in delight at seeing his hotel lobby once again bustling with guests. He scurried around recruiting a staff large enough to handle the sudden inflow. Vicki and the other stewardesses had their hands full helping the passengers get settled. There were two women with small children. These were given adjoining rooms. Vicki told the women that either she or one of the other stewardesses would be glad to baby-sit should either woman want to go out. At ten oclock a hurriedly prepared, but quite
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delectable, dinner was served in the main dining room. The passengers and crew gathered. Captain Mallinson made an announcement before the first course was served. I know you all want to know what has happened and what may happen. Ive tried to call the States. The operator always tells me the same thing: All fines to the United States are busy. Any of you had a similar experience? Dozens of hands shot up. Miss Barr and Miss Hinajosa, both of whom speak Spanish, also tried to put in callsusing Spanish instead of English. The ruse did not work. The same thing, Im sure, will happen to the cables that Ive filed, and Im sure you have filed. Theyre accepted, but I imagine they went right into File Thirteenthe wastebasket. Thats about all I can tell you. If you have any questions, lets have them. No? Then lets eat. Im starved. Captain Mallinsons casual, informal talk had a calming influence on the passengers. One thing, Captain. Have you had any further talks with the man who hijacked the plane? asked a middle-aged businessman. Klaxby? . . . No. I havent been able to find him. Have any of you seen him here? No one had. Dinner over, most of the passengers went to their
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rooms. Some gathered in the lobby and talked, but not for long. All were too tired from the trip, the excitement, and the tension they had been under for the past hours. Vicki was about to turn in, also, when Captain Mallinson beckoned to her. Want to ride out to the plane with me? Certainly, Captain. Thought Id like to check on the plane, and see if Carters all right. We wont be long. They found a decrepit taxicab, and a most obliging driver in front of the hotel. Ah, los Americanos! So good to see. So much I like you. I place my poor taxi at your service. You stay long? Wish we could answer that question. Dont we, Vicki? We certainly do. And where to? Where you like Lopez to take you? The airfield. Lopez proved to be as generous with his driving speed as he was with his offer to serve. He drove high, wide, and recklessly. They reached the airfield in half the time that it had taken them to come in on the buses. The first thing to greet their eyes at the entrance to the airfield was the huge jetliner. Both front and
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rear passenger doors were open. Ladders were leaning against the doors. Captain Mallinson was alarmed. Whats going on here? The plane had been moved from the end of the landing strip and brought up to the hangar. Vicki and Captain Mallinson hurried to the plane. Carter, standing in the planes open door, saw them coming. Hi! Welcome aboard. When was the plane moved? Captain Mallinson wanted to know. Couple hours ago. Shortly after you left. Shes all fueled up, too. Captain Mallinson looked worried. Oh, its okay, Captain. Right kind of fuel aviation kerosene. I checked that out, you bet. Seems the president here has his own private jet that he flits about in. Small, twin-engine job. But hes got everything on hand to service jets. Even mechanics. I couldnt dig their lingo, so I had them hold off on further servicing until you got here with someone who could speak the language. So, were all fueled up. Ready to take off. I wonder where to this time? Vicki asked. Carter shrugged his shoulders. No one mentioned that important item. You might ask Klaxby. Hes here? Vicki and Captain Mallinson asked simultaneously.
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Up on the flight deck. Captain Mallinson, Vicki at his heels, lost no time. They scrambled up the front ladder and went into the flight deck. Klaxby and his man Tinker were poring over navigational charts. Just getting ready to send for you, Klaxby said. You got maps herefly-boy mapsof Missouri and Arizona? Ive some charts. Well, then, dig em out. I want to take a look. Vicki and Captain Mallinson exchanged startled looks. This was a strange turn or events. Were they going back to the States? Captain Mallinson got out the charts and gave them to Klaxby. Vicki couldnt hold back the question. You mean were going back to the States? she asked. Who knows? Who knows? Klaxby answered with a provoking smile. This crates got enough fuel to go either place, hasnt she, Captain? Yes. If we can take off. What do you mean? We landed, didnt we? This strip is short, Klaxby. We almost plunged over the cliff at the end of the runway on landing. A take-off could be even more dangerous. If we had a lighter load . . . Then well dump some of the passengers here. Maybe we wouldnt need so much fuel, either, Klaxby suggested.
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I cant say about the fuel until I know where were going. If you can tell me that . . . Unh-unh. Not until were in the air. And when will that be? Vicki asked. Now arent you the one with the questions! Ill just tell you this. Keep ready. Might even be tomorrow. Thats all youre going to find out. You can go back to the hotel now. And stick close to it. When I want you, Im going to want you fast. Klaxby folded the maps and stuck them in his pocket. Before going back to their taxi, Captain Mallinson talked to the mechanics. Vicki acted as interpreter. The mechanics seemed most pleased to have a young lady pass on the instructions. Both Vicki and Captain Mallinson were silent during the first half of the ride back to the hotel. Their minds were filled with speculations as to Klaxbys plans. He had told them just enough to be tantalizing. What do you think, Vicki? Captain Mallinson broke the silence. Looks to me as if we might have a pretty good chance of getting back to the States, Vicki replied thoughtfully. I sort of figure it that way, too. Those chartswhy Missouri and Arizona? Those two states are miles apart.
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Ive been thinking about that, too. Could it be, Captain, Vicki asked, that hes throwing up sort of a smoke screen? I mean, he must have one of those states definitely in mind for our destination. And hes mentioned the other one to sort of keep us off balance. Could be. Would a take-off be as dangerous as you suggested? Vicki asked. It will be risky. Ive got to examine the strip more carefully. Weight and wind will be factors, too. What about the passengers? Klaxby said he might leave some here. Would you permit that? Captain Mallinson considered Vickis question. I think Ill have to leave that up to the passengers if Klaxby lets any come along. If we knew definitely we were going back to the States, then I imagine most of them would want to come along. But we cant be sure. Thats true, Vicki said, we wont know until were air-borne. The taxi had pulled up in front of the hotel. Vicki and Captain Mallinson got out. Maana, seor and seorita. Muy temprano ver earlyLopez, he will be here. Lopez be your regular driver. Okay, Lopez. Gracias. You take Americano
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money? But s! S! S! Mallinson tossed Lopez a bill. Mil gracias, seora million thanks. Lopez put the car in gear, and started to pull away. Hey, Lopez! Hold it. Lopez jammed on his brakes. He ground the gear into reverse, and backed up with a flourish. Vicki, Im a bit worried. Captain Mallinson said. I dont like that plane sitting out there, all fueled up and ready to go. I know Carter is there. And I dont really think Klaxby would try to take it off himself. But he might get a pilot from the president. I think Id better go back and join Carter. Vicki looked into Captain Mallinsons face. The light from the hotel entrance seemed to accent the signs of fatigue under his eyes and on his drawn cheeks. He needed sleepa good, sound, full nights sleep. But she knew that Captain Mallinson would go back to the plane. He had made up his mind. Heres what I want you to do, Vicki. If Im not back for breakfast, you take over. Tell the passengers exactly what we learned tonight. Then poll them to see how many want to chance going with us again. Tell them we cant be sure where well end up. The decision must be entirely the individuals.
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All right. Will do, Vicki replied. Captain Mallinson got back into the taxi. Vicki watched it pull away, then she turned and entered the hotel. Vicki spent a restless night. When she awakened, much earlier than she had intended to, she felt as tired as when she went to bed. A brisk shower restored most of her vitality and lifted her sagging spirits. She dressed quickly, not bothering to awaken Becky. At the desk in the lobby she asked if there was a message for her. Captain Mallinson had sent none. As Vicki entered the dining room, she was surprised to see that several of the passengers were there ahead of her. Any news, Miss Barr? Vicki filled them in on what she had learned the night before. Dont make your minds up right now, she urged. We may have more definite word before the day is over. If we do find out that were going back to the States, that knowledge should carry a lot of weight in helping you reach a decision. What if some of us do stay behind? a woman passenger asked. I dont relish riding in a plane with armed hoodlums, but I do want to get home. Im sure, Vicki replied, that Federal Airlines would make immediate arrangements to get you off
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this island as soon as this affair comes to an end. You probably would fly over to Limaits only about a two-hundred-mile flight. Then youd be brought back on a regularly scheduled airliner. One that makes the west coast run. The woman seemed relieved. So far as I know, you are all perfectly free to look around San Mateo, Vicki added. I think it advisable, though, that you wait until we hear from Captain Mallinson. If you do decide to go sightseeing, Miss Hinajosa tells me there are some fascinating market places. Other passengers filed in. Vicki was kept busy repeating her information. Captain Mallinson showed up just before nine. But he had no further news. Several of the passengers started leaving the hotel. They ran into a throng of peddlers, lottery-ticket sellers, and guides. All were so happy to see touristas once again. All displayed souvenirshandicraft, colorful scarves, handmade bags, some of beads, some of sea shells, and some of intricately carved leather. Each tourist, no matter in which direction he went, was followed by hawkers, enticing him to the market place. Vicki and Captain Mallinson stood on the hotel steps and watched the passengers disperse. Theyre taking this adventure right in stride
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now, Captain, Vicki said. Yes. Theyve calmed down. I suspect you had a lot to do with that. How did they react to the news you gave them this morning? Theyre waiting for further information. One man said he definitely wanted to go, even if we dont know where were heading. He said he has a big deal cooking in San Francisco. If he doesnt get there soon, he stands to lose a lot of money. Hope he makes it, Captain Mallinson said. Look, I realize Ive already asked quite a bit of you. But one thing more. Id like to knock off a fast two hours of shut-eye. Could you stand by here? Carter and Blanchard are at the plane. Give me two hours, then you can take off yourselfsee the town. Id be glad to, Captain. You look as if you need the sleep. Captain Mallinsons tired smile was his answer. Vicki went back into the lobby. It was just after nine. Only twenty-fours had passed since the briefing in Miami had ended. But what an actionpacked, danger-filled twenty-four hours they had been! Vickis shoulders sagged with weariness as she settled back against a lounge chair in the lobby. A tour of the city would be interesting, she thought. Just getting away from the present situation would
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be a relief. But what if Klaxby suddenly summoned them? What if he decided to make his next move within the hour? Vicki fought to keep her eyes open.

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CHAPTER X

Another Visitor

Guess you needed the catnap. Vicki, startled, pulled herself up from the depths of the soft chair. She blinked her eyes and rubbed the fatigue out of both of them with the knuckles of each hand. Ill say. She sighed as she recognized Captain Mallinson, standing before her. Ive been dozing off and on. You look chipper, she added as she smiled up at him. The shut-eye made a new man of me, he agreed. Ill take over here now. Why dont you try to finish that beauty sleep in comfort? Vicki yawned. Nope. I think what I need most is a breath of fresh air and a change of scene. A walk will do me more good than anything. Best not to go wandering alone, Vicki, Captain Mallinson cautioned. Get two of the other girls to go with you. Leave one here. Upstairs in the room she shared with Becky,
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Vicki dashed cold water over her face, brushed her hair vigorously, and renewed her lipstick. She tossed a pillow at Becky who was stretched out on top of the bed reading a magazine. Come on, Lazy Magnolia Blossom! she called out. Time to rise and shine your pretty eyes on San Mateo. Lets get Dolores and look the town over. Vicki, honey, Becky drawled, you know I like to do things slow-like. Give me a minute. Just half a minute while I get Dolores. She may remember all the sights worth seeing. Fifty minutes later the three girls were strolling along the sunny streets of San Mateo. The bright day had raised their spirits. Their constrained visit to this peculiar island was momentarily forgotten as they chattered like any three girls anywhere on a window-shopping tour. If its still there, I think youd like to see the mercado central, Dolores said. As a little girl, I remember going there with my duenna. Its a sort of open-air market place, with all sorts of things in it. Mostly, I recall delicious fruit ices we used to buy at a little place nearby. Do you suppose we could get a Coke? Becky asked wistfully. Becky, Vicki said jokingly, broaden your viewpoint. When in Romecorrectionwhen in San Mateo, have San Mateo fruit ice.
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The winding street they had been walking along led them into a bustling plaza. The square was jammed with open-air stalls where flowers, fruits, odd-shaped baskets, clothing, and bright shawls were displayed. People bustled about the plaza buying, haggling, and greeting friends. Lazy donkeys, their heads topped by pointed straw hats, stood patiently here and there in the midst of the crowds. Most of the animals carried huge baskets, filled with native fruits and vegetables. The scent of flowers and freshly roasted coffee swirled about the whole scene.

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Native men slouched their way through the market. Their zapatillas, one-strap sandals, flipflapped as the men moved slowly about, chattering in high-pitched voices to one another. Most of them wore floppy broad-brimmed hats, made of palm fronds. White shirts and white trousers, frayed at the cuffs, completed their casual, careless dress.

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The women wore wide, swirling skirts, fanciful in their many colors and patterns. They were bareheaded, and had to be. Most of them transported their wares to the market place in huge baskets carried on their heads. Loose, billowing blouses hung from their shoulders. Vicki dashed toward one stall which caught her eye. Look, girls! she cried out. Absolutely just the thing for a beach coat. She picked up a bright cotton garment, richly embroidered in wildly gay colors. She slipped it over her head. The garment went on like a poncho, forming wide sleeves and covering Vicki to the tops of her knees. She waved her arms and twirled about. Wouldnt it be a perfect wow-thing for the beach? she inquired. Marvelous! Becky exclaimed. I remember now, Dolores said. I think the natives call it an angela. The sleeves do sort of make you look like a gaudy angel. Excitedly the girls bargained with the stallkeeper. Vicki chose one of wood-violet color, trimmed with subtle pinks and blues. Dolores selected a bright-yellow one, and Becky settled for a vivid red. Delighted with their purchases, the three wove their way in and out of the market place. Vickis quick eyes collected every impression in sight. San Mateo had some good points, after all.
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Dolores, she said at last, lets see if we can find that place where they sell fruit ices. Im thirsty. They found the place just off the plaza. It was a relief to get out of the hot sun and into the coolness of the high-ceilinged room. Spindly-legged tables stood on a mosaic-tiled floor. All ordered a fruit drink made up of the combined juices of orange, lime, lemon, and pineapple. Their tall glasses were filled with crushed ice and the juices poured over it. Mmm, Real yummy, Vicki said. Still want a Coke? Dolores asked Becky. I always want a Coke, Becky replied. The three girls spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around the town. Dolores pointed out various sights, explaining the significance of the many statues they passed in every small square and plaza. In the center of the plazas, fountains splashed water into shallow pools. The benches leading to the fountains were crowded with chattering women, keeping their eyes on their small fry, whooping and running around them. When the girls returned to the hotel, there was still no word from Klaxby. Captain Mallinson had nothing to report. All was well at the airport. The plane had been checked out under his careful eye. Were all ready to gobut where? Captain
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Mallinson smiled his question. The second day of their stay in San Mateo went by much like the first. The passengers wandered idly throughout the town, making small purchases, sightseeing, and just waiting for something to happen. The three men of Flight 908s crew took turns at guarding the plane. Vicki and the other three stewardesses divided their day into four parts. At all times, one of the four remained in the hotel lobby, ready to answer questions from the passengers, although they had no news to give them. Toward the end of the day, Vicki noticed increased impatience on the part of many of the passengers. The waiting, the inaction were trying on the nerves. This restlessness would increase rapidly, she knew, if something didnt happen soon. It was the third day of their enforced stay in Guairacorda. Passengers and crew had settled down into a desultory routine, a wait-and-see-what-willhappen attitude. Some of the passengers played cards, while others thumbed idly through magazines, listened to outdated phonograph records, or clustered around the hotels radio, hoping for news from the outside world. They heard nothing. A hotel employee was stationed by the radio. Requests from passengers to
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tune to a station from the South American mainland were politely, but firmly, denied. The dictators censorship had a long and ironclad arm. There was a local newspaper, but it was carefully censored. So far as La Prensa de San Mateo, the only newspaper, was concerned, the hijacked plane had never landed there. There was no mention, not even a paragraph buried on page seven, of the islands visitors. What little news the paper reported from the United States was translated by either Vicki or Dolores. But the news concerned affairs far removed from the plight of Flight 908. The one question asked over and over again was When do we leave? The answer from any of the seven crew members was always the sameI dont know. Toward the middle of the afternoon, Vicki and Becky went down to the beach near the hotel. A long finger of land extended out into the water, a point of land called Punta Capitan El Chico Captain Kidds Point. The water was a lovely, sparkling blue beneath the high, hot sun. After a short dipeven Becky braved the salt waterthe two girls stretched out on the beach to sunbathe. Their conversation came in short snatches, followed by longer silences. Beckys usually bubbling spirits were missing today. Vickis thoughts turned time and time again to her home in
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Fairview, to her parents and her sister Ginny. What would they be thinking? What could they be thinking? How could a plane, a huge, modern jet with ninety-five passengers and a crew of seven, just disappear from the face of the earth? Becky, as if reading Vickis thoughts, brought up the same question. Honey, you imagine theyre making a big to-do back home about our being missing? You know they are, Becky, Vicki replied. This is the third plane hijackedall within a period of six weeks. Cant you just see the headlines in the newspapers?
MISSING JETLINER BELIEVED HIJACKED

Vicki smiled to herself. Just such a headline could well have appeared over a story written by Pete Carmody. Hed be hot on this story. The hijacking itself was big news. This, coupled with Petes personal interest in Vicki, would have him working day and night. How would they know we were hijacked? Becky wanted to know. Couldnt they think wed had to make a forced landing? Maybe lost in the mountains or somewhere? Thats possible, of course. But Im sure Air Force planes as well as others have been scouring the area we were last reported over. Ground control
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would know, within a few miles, our last position before radio contact was broken. As you know, every airliner is required to report its position every two hundred miles or every half an hour. Our position had been reported just fifteen minutes before Klaxby and Company took over But then, Becky interrupted, if fifteen minutes had passed, we would be a hundred and fifty miles or more beyond the position we were reported. Quite right, Becky, except for one thing: Just before Klaxby hit the master radio switch, cutting us off, Captain Mallinson sent out the prearranged code messageSkies cloudy. He feels sure that either the Chicago flight or the Dallas flight must have heard him. So, figuring the time elapsed from our last officially reported position, and the Skies cloudy message, ground control would know, within twenty-five miles of the spot, where that code message had been transmitted. And they would sure search that area, wouldnt they? Right you are, Becky. But, because of that code message, they would know we had been hijacked. I see now. You make everything so clear, Vicki honey. You sure do know a lot about flying. I mean, more than just being a stewardess like lil ole me. Vicki smiled without answering. She had to know a lot about flying. She had her own pilots license. A
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private pilots license, to be sure, but one day, she hoped, the time would come when women would be at the controls on the flight deck. It sure is fascinating. I really love to fly, dont you, Vicki? Vicki started to reply when a sound attracted her attention. At first she thought it might be the roar of the surf, pounding on the white beach. Then she sat up, straining her ears toward the direction she thought the sound had come from. What is it, Vicki? Becky asked. Hush. I think I hear something. Becky sat up. The sound was becoming stronger. Vicki shaded her eyes and stared in the direction of the mainland, the coast of Peru. She saw it, a small plane, coming in low, about two miles out. Fascinated, excited, Vicki watched the small planes approach. This was the first communication of any kind from the outside world since Flight 908 had landed on Windy Island. The plane, flying at an altitude of not more than a thousand feet, swept directly over Punta Capitan El Chico. The two girls pivoted to follow its flight. They saw it disappear behind the red-tiled roofs of San Mateo. Vicki leaped to her feet. Come on, Becky! This could mean something!
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CHAPTER XI

Destination Unknown

Vicki was right, the arrival of that small plane set off a chain reaction of events as suspense-filled as the ones surrounding the hijacking. By the time the two girls reached the hotel, the street in front of it was filled with Flight 908s passengers. They had heard the plane arrive, had seen it sweep over the town, and head toward the landing strip. No one could be sure what the arrival meant, but all sensed it could have some connection with their arrival three days before. What do you think, Miss Barr? one of the passengers asked. That plane have anything to do with us? The hope, the eagerness in the questioners voice was so apparent. This man was clutching at any straw he could grab. Vicki hoped with all her heart that the planes arrival was significant. But there was no way she could really know. It was almost pathetic the way the passengers so truly believed
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that she or Captain Mallinson must have advance knowledge of what was going to happen. Ill find out just as soon as I can, Vicki replied. Please let me through. I must get dressed. The crowd which had pressed around her opened a path. Vicki fled into the hotel and up to her room. She got back to the street just in time to see a black limousine, its windows curtained, go speeding past the hotel. It turned to the right where the street ended at the beach. Vicki ran after it. She got to the beach only minutes after the car had turned. Looking in the direction it had gone, she saw the car pull up in front of the fourth cabana-cottage down the beach. As she stood watching, the rear door of the limousine opened. Klaxby got out. He was followed by a heavy-set figure, bundled up as if he were prepared for winter, instead of the hot climate of San Mateo. Klaxby and the man hurried up to the cabana and entered. Tinker got out of the car next. He was followed by the chauffeur. The two of them unloaded luggage and took it into the cabana. Vicki waited a few minutes. There was no further activity. She raced back to the hotel. Captain Mallinson had to know about thisat once. He wasnt in the hotel when she returned. Impatiently Vicki looked around. She spotted Becky
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and called her. Im going out to the airstrip. Get the rest of the girls together. Have Blanchard wakened. He was on guard duty last night. Get him up. Tell all the passengers you see to stay in the lobby. Vicki hurried out of the hotel. She saw the faithful Lopez leaning against the crumpled right fender of his taxi. His hat was over his eyes. He seemed to be asleep. Lopez! Lopez! Vicki shook the drivers arm. I must get to the airport. Fast. Lopez appeared not to hear her. Lopez! Wake up! I want to go to the airport! Vicki almost shouted this request. The urgency in her voice only caused Lopez to straighten up slowly and brush his hat back from his eyes. Mucho sorry, seorita. Lopez ver busy. Busy! You are not! Now you just get into that taxi and take me to the airport. Vicki was indignant, on the verge of fiery anger. Lopez straightened up. He looked carefully up and down the street. Then, in a voice so low Vicki could hardly distinguish his words, he whispered: Seoritaan hour ago, we get orders from the police, the secret police, we must not take any Americanos to the airport. Muy sorry, seorita. But when orders come from el presidentes men, no one dares disobey.
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Vicki could hardly believe what she had heard. But the expression of fear on Lopez face, as he whispered to her, convinced Vicki that she would not be able to get to the airportnot in Lopez taxi. She had heard in the past of how strictly a dictator could control his people. This was the first time she had ever been confronted with the actuality. Disheartened, Vicki turned back to the hotel. Fifteen minutes later Captain Mallinson hurried in. He strode quickly up to Vicki. Do you know whats going on, Vicki? Vicki nodded her head. I tried to come out to the airport. I wasnt allowed to. Lopez wouldnt take me, Vicki stated simply. And I wasnt allowed to come into townuntil just now. Somethings going on. Something big. Some man arrived in a small plane Vicki began. Captain Mallinson interrupted. I know. I know. There were all sorts of rumors out at the hangar. Then, about an hour ago, Carter and I were ushered into a small office and held there at gunpoint. I had no idea what was going on. I was scared to death Id hear our jets engines being revved up. Then we heard a small plane land. After half an hour, the guards put their guns away and we were free to leave. I got here as fast as I could. Tell mewhat did you see?
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Vicki told him about following the limousine down to the beach. She described the heavy-set man and Klaxbys going into the cabana, followed by Tinker and the chauffeur. And thats all I know. I did ask Becky to have Blanchard awakened, and get the other girls. I also told her to start rounding up the passengers. Captain Mallinson swept the lobby with a quick glance. It seemed that all the passengers were there. They were quiet. All eyes were on Vicki and Captain Mallinson. They were waiting. They seemed to sense that a turning point in their enforced stay was at hand. Good, Vicki. You did just right. Now Im going to speak to the passengers. He strode over to the center of the group. This whole business is still a mystery. But the arrival of that small plane is significant. I feel sure that well know something soon. I think we can expect action at any time. We may be ordered to take offthat order could come in the next five minutes, perhaps longer. You know that we have had an indication from Klaxby that were going back to the States. I dont want to urge any of you to come with us. We cant be sure that the States is our destination. And I must point out that danger will ride with usdanger in the form of those who hijacked the plane. All I want to say is that those of
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you who want to go with us, be ready. Those of you who decide to stay behind, be assured that you will be brought back as soon as Federal Airlines can arrange it. Thats all, and thanks. The passengers formed small groups. There was but one topic of conversation, a question: to go or not to go? They didnt have much time to make up their minds. Klaxby came into the lobby. He spotted Captain Mallinson and motioned for him to join him in one of the small rooms just off the lobby. Come with me, Vicki, Captain Mallinson said. In the room, Klaxby wasted no time in getting to his point. You ready to go, fly-boy? That depends on where, Captain Mallinson shot back. Youll know that when we get into the air. Oh, no. There are several things Ive got to knownow! Okay, okay. What are they? Since you wont tell me where were going, I have to know how far. Klaxby merely nodded his head. So go on. What else? What kind of field are we going to land on? Length of runways, lighting. I cant risk a night landing on an unlighted, unknown airfield.
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Youre going to. Not unless you answer some of my questions. Vicki wondered what Klaxby would do if Mallinson refused to take off. Ill just tell you this much: were not going quite as far as we did coming down here. Maybe three thousand miles, maybe less, maybe a little more. Where were going to land is okay. How can I know that for sure? You cant, fly-boy. Youll just have to trust me. Captain Mallinson snorted and looked at Vicki. Now thats all youre going to know for now. How soon can you get that crate in the air? Captain Mallinson looked at his watch. It was just six oclock. What about my passengers? he asked. Any of em who want to come can come, Klaxby replied. How long will it take to get them ready, Miss Barr? Vicki knew from the question that Captain Mallinson was stalling for time. He knew from what she had already told him that the passengers had been alerted for an immediate take-off. Ill have to round them up, Captain. Some of them may be scattered around the town, sightseeing and shopping. Thank you, Miss Barr. Ill set our time of de121

parture for one hour after midnight. One A.M.! Klaxby objected. Not until then? Why not? Because I say so, Captain Mallinson replied firmly. Youll just have to trust me, now. Klaxby shrugged his shoulders. Okay. Everybody whos going along has got to be in that plane at quarter to one. Everybody. He got up and left the room. Well, Captain, Vicki said, we dont know where were going, but were practically on our way. Any idea where? Id say the States. That distance, three thousand mileswe cant go east or west. Wed be out over either the Atlantic or the Pacific. And south would put us over Cape Horn. That only leaves the United States. Vicki smiled happily. Can I tell that to the passengers? Sure. But only as a theory. We dont actually know that three thousand miles is the distance were going to fly. It could be less. Central America, for example. I see, Vicki said. Tell me, why did you put take-off time up to one A.M.? You know that the passengers are all in the hotelthose who are going with us could be ready in half an hour. What do you think, Vicki?
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Vicki considered the probable distance as three thousand miles plus. That would take six hours, perhaps a little more, perhaps a little less. Settle for six hours, she told herself. Six hours from one A.M. would have them landing at about dawn. That had to be it. You want to make sure you dont have to make a night landing at an unknown field. Am I right? Right on the nose, Vicki. Now you take over from here. Round up the passengers. Tell all who are going they must be at the airfield by twelve thirty. Get buses, or taxis, to get them out there. Im going to the airport. Blanchard, Carter, and I will remain with the plane. We take off at one A.M. But what about the danger of a night take-off here, Captain? I studied the airfield while I was on guard duty. Theyve got a system of lights that run the length of the runway. I checked on that in case they wanted to take off at night. And, day or night, the length of the runway will have to do. I figure with less weight on board if some of the passengers remain behind, we should be able to get up enough speed for the takeoff by the time we reach that broken fence. It will be cutting it close, but its our only chance. Our only chance, Vicki said to herself, and if we do make itthen what?
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CHAPTER XII

Air-borne Again

Captain Mallinson had to fight his way through the passengers in the lobby. See Miss Barr! See Miss Barr! he instructed as he made for the door. The throng descended on Vicki like a flight of locusts, hungry for anything she could tell them. Their high-voiced babble drowned out all other sound. Please! Please! I cant talk to you unless you can hear me, Vicki pleaded. Gradually the excited babble subsided. Vicki looked into the faces of the crowd pressing around her. On some she read hope; on others, anxiety showed all too plainly. We are going to take off at one in the morning about six hours from now . . . Where to? Where to? The question was shouted from all sides. We feel ninety percent sure that were heading
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back to the United States. Cheers rang through the lobby. We cant be positive. Klaxby has told us our flight will be a distance of about three thousand miles. We can only surmise from our calculations that our destination will be the United States. Again cheers went up. But . . . but . . . The crowd was silent again. It could be that Klaxby has misinformed us. If we go much less than that, we could land in Central America or Mexico. There were groans from the crowd. Youll have to take your chances. If you want to know my personal feeling . . . We do! We do! . . . I think were heading back for the good old U.S.A.! Vicki smiled at her audience. We will arrange to have buses or taxis in front of the hotel at exactly twelve oclock. All of you who want to go with us, please be ready. Dont worry about that, Miss Barr! one man called out. The crowd laughed. And those of you who wish to remain behind, have no fear. Youll either be taken off by Federal Airlines, or, by tomorrow I feel certain the communication ban on calls to the States will be lifted. You will be able to call or cable your relatives and friends.
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Why do you think that, Miss Barr? Wherever were going, well be there by sunrise, or shortly after, tomorrow. I just cant see why there would be any reason to continue the communication ban after that. Vicki heard several of the passengers say to one another, Shes right. Smart head on that girl. So, for now, I suggest a good dinner, Vicki concluded, and be ready at twelve. The crowd dispersed. Vicki was joined by Becky, Marian, and Dolores. The next two hours were busy ones for the four girls. They used the hotels small pickup truck to restock the planes supply of water, milk, coffee, bread, and fruit. It took several trips, but by eight oclock, they had assembled all the supplies they could locate in the town. What do we do now, Vicki? Dolores asked. Get some buses. Then what? We just waituntil twelve, then until one A.M. The wait was a torturous one. The minute hand on the lobby clock seemed to remain motionless. Everyone kept looking at his watch, or glancing at the lobby clock. Finally twelve oclock arrived. The buses were lined up in front of the hotel. There were three of them. Vicki stationed one of her co-workers at the
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door of each bus. Keep as accurate a count as you can, Vicki told them. She stood at the door to the lobby, smiling her confidence that all was well. The buses filled rapidly. By twelve ten, all who were going had boarded the buses. Vicki totaled the count given her by Becky, Marian, and Dolores. It came to seventy-three. My! How gratifying, Vicki said. Theyre placing a lot of confidence in us. Among those remaining behind were the two mothers and their young children, and the father whose daughter had cried so hysterically when the plane had been hijacked. Cant blame them, Vicki said. Others remaining behind explained, or excused their refusal to go along, by saying they had been flying to San Francisco for a vacation, but since they liked it in San Mateo, they might just as well spend the rest of their time here. The buses rolled into the night toward the airport. With no traffic, no burros to dodge, they arrived just after twelve thirty. Captain Mallinson approached Vicki. Carry on just as if this were a normal, routine take-off. You and the other gals make like the good stewardesses you are. These people are so happy right now to be leaving, they havent stopped to
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think that we can be ordered down anywhere Klaxby says. The plane filled slowly. Ladders were still the only means of entering the plane. It took time, particularly for the women, to mount the ladders. Once inside, and seated, the passengers showed their nervousness. Ill serve some coffee right away, Dolores said in a low voice to Vicki. Marian turned on the planes music system, but a passenger objected and she turned it off. Vicki stowed away some of the trinkets the passengers had purchased as souvenirs of Guairacorda. No doubt they would be used to good advantage in relating their adventures to friends and relatives. When all was secure, Vicki went forward to report to Captain Mallinson. Everyone aboard, Captain. Not everybodynot yet. It was the gunman Lou. He was leaning against the side of the flight deck, just behind the captains seat, gun in hand. This plane dont move until Klaxby says so. Klaxby hadnt boarded yet. Vicki had been so busy with the passengers, so filled with the thought of getting back to the United States that Klaxby had disappeared completely from her mind. He came back with a rush now. He was still running things. It
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was he who would tell them where to go, when to land. Copilot Blanchard was busy with his computer. He was estimating the place on the runway when the plane would reach the point of no return. After passing that point, even if they wanted to stop they couldnt, and the momentum of the plane would carry it through the broken fence and over the cliff to a watery grave in the rock-strewn surf below. As soon as Klaxby is aboard, Miss Barr, Captain Mallinson said, button her up. Its almost takeoff time. Vicki left the flight deck and returned to the passenger cabin. Her watch showed four minutes until one A.M.four minutes before they were to take off for an unknown destination and . . . and what? A second later Tinker stepped into the cabin. He was followed by the heavy-set man Vicki had seen emerging from the limousine. The man was still dressed as if he were going on an arctic expedition. His oversized trench coat was strapped tightly around his bulging body. The collar of his coat was turned up so that it covered most of his face and head. Dark sunglasses hid the mans eyes. His slouch hat was pulled forward over his forehead. There was no doubt about itthis man didnt want anyone to see his face.
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Klaxby followed immediately behind the heavyset man. He looked up and down the plane. Hey, miss. He turned to Vicki. Those people there. Klaxby indicated seats nine and ten, and just behind them, seats eleven and twelve on the planes portside. Move them. Get them out of there. But . . . No buts about it! Klaxby snarled. Move them! Fast! A young couple was in seats nine and ten. Seat eleven held an elderly occupant. Twelve was empty. There were plenty of other empty seats in the plane. But Klaxby had stated which ones he wanted. The three people moved without protest. Klaxby and the heavy-set man stepped up to seats nine and ten. The heavy-set man took ten, slumped down by the window, and turned his head away from the aisle. Tinker took seat twelve, just behind him. Get that guy out of there, too, Klaxby said as an afterthought. He indicated the occupant of the inside seat, eight, directly in front of the heavy-set man. Seat seven was empty. Vicki asked the man to move. She saw what Klaxbys idea was. He wanted no passengers near the man that he was protecting so carefully. The seats across the aisle were unoccupied. No ones to sit in those seats, get me? Klaxby said. But no one.
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Klaxby settled down beside the heavy-set man. He leaned backward, turned his head, and spoke to Tinker. Keep your hand on your rod. Okay, Boss, Tinker replied. Whoever the heavy-set man wasthe man of mysteryKlaxby was taking every precaution to protect him: Tinker, the rear bodyguard; Klaxby, by the heavy-set mans side, and no one in the seat ahead. Klaxby scowled at Vicki. Okay, miss. Get up front there and tell your captain to get this crate in the air. And keep that door up there open. Ill be up in a few minutes to tell him where to go. Vicki hurried to the flight deck. Captain Mallinson merely nodded his head as Vicki passed on Klaxbys order. Mallinson was intent on the task immediately confronting himlifting the huge plane from a runway a thousand yards too short for complete safety. Vicki re-entered the passenger cabin and strapped herself into one of the front seats. She heard each of the four engines, already warmed up, whine to a roar. She could feel the surge of the jet engines power against the holding of the brakes. Mallinson released the brakes. The jet leaped forward. It gathered speed rapidly. Vicki saw the strip of landing lights flash by her window. On the flight deck, Copilot Blanchard called out,
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V-one! It was now or never. The end of the runway was rushing toward the speeding plane. The jet shot through the gap in the broken fence, still not airborne. In her minds eye Vicki could see the plane plunging over the edge of the cliff into the rockstrewn waters far below. Then, the next instant, the plane began to climb, slowlyslowly, but surely. Vicki breathed a sigh of relief. She waited a few minutes as the aircraft gained altitude, then went forward. On the flight deck, Carter was just lighting a cigarette. His hand trembled, but he managed to steady it long enough to get a light. Then he leaned back and exhaled with a long sigh of relief. Any orders, Captain? Vicki asked. Mallinson shook his head. Vicki turned to go back to the cabin, but her path was blocked by Klaxby. She stepped backward, giving way. Which way you heading, fly-boy? Klaxby asked. Im coming around to a northward course. All right. Just keep going back like you came down here. Back to Florida? If were going there, I can take a heading due north. No one said anything about Florida. You just keep going north. Like youre going to Kansas City. What we going to be flying over?
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A course toward Kaycee will be north-northwest and will take us over the Gulf of Mexico. Well be re-entering the United States over Louisiana, Captain Mallinson said. So okay. Klaxby turned to Vicki. Go back and tell Tinker to come up here. Hurry! Lou, you go back with her. Take over for Tinker. Vicki, followed by Lou, returned to the passenger cabin. Lou relieved Tinker. Vicki started back to the galley, intending to help the other stewardesses pour and serve coffee. You stay here, Lou ordered. Vicki stood in the aisle, waiting. In a few moments Klaxby came back. In there, you. He pointed to the empty seat, seat eight, just in front of the heavy-set man. And stay there. I want you for my personal errand girl. Vicki settled into the seat. She stared out the window. The night was cloudless. Every star shone with a clear, separate brilliance. Far to the east, a huge moon shone brightly. Wherever they were headed, they would fly in the light of a full moon.

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CHAPTER XIII

Night Flight

Flight 908 roared through the moonlit night, leaving Guairacorda on Windy Island far behind. Her course was north, and north meant the United States unlessunless Klaxby gave new orders. Vicki propped her arm on the sill of the window and rested her chin in her cupped hand. Vicki felt concerned that she must sit here instead of helping the other stewardesses serve the passengers. Not that there was much to do at the momentDolores had dimmed the cabin lights, Marian and Becky had distributed blankets and pillows, and now most of the passengers were asleep. I might as well sleep, too, Vicki thought restlessly. She was tired, but sleep kept escaping her. She would sometimes begin to nod, then come to with a start. She looked at her watch. It was nearly three. They had been air-borne for two hours. That meant they must have traveled twelve hundred miles, more if they had a strong tail wind.
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Becky came up to her. Want some coffee, honey? Becky asked in a whisper. I sure could use some. Becky winked at her and went back to the galley. She returned minutes later with the coffee and sat down beside Vicki. How are things going? Vicki asked. Everythings A-Okay, as they say at Canaveral. Everyones sleeping. How about Klaxby? Klaxby? Hes sound-o. Dead to the world. And the man with him? Hes out, too. Id sure like to get a look at him, Vicki said. I wonder who he is? Vicki shrugged her shoulders. If we knew that, we might know what this is all about. But I do have a theory. I just knew you would, honey. Tell Becky what it is. Vicki smiled at her friend. Well, Im no expert private eye, or trained investigator, but how does this sound? Suppose that man was the head of a big gambling syndicate, or maybe the boss of a narcotics smuggling ring. Vicki paused. Yes, yes. . . . Go on, Vicki. Beckys eyes were wide open and filled with curiosity. Well, suppose Uncle Sams FBI agents caught
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up with him. Hes convicted. So what would they do to him? Put him in jail, Becky stated confidently. They could deport him, too. Youve read about such cases. I sure have, Vicki. You think that could be what happened? Could be. And if he had been deported, he could still have plenty of connections in the States. Maybe somebodys trying to take over his gang, and he felt he just had to get back. And this plane was hijacked just to get him back into the country? Well, all ports of entry would be closely watched. The only way to get him back into the United States would be to smuggle him in. But would they steal a big jet like this one just to do that? Beckys voice showed her amazement. Men like thatmen mixed up in crime syndicates and even murderwould stop at nothing. I guess youre right, Vicki. If only I could get a good look at that mans face, perhaps I might remember having seen a picture of him in the newspapers. But with those big sunglasses and the way his hatbrim is pulled down and coat collar turned up, no one could possibly recognize him. A light on the panel near the intercommunication
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system flashed on. They want one of us on the flight deck, Vicki said. Youd better go, Becky. I was told to stay here. Becky got up and went forward. Vicki, restless, stood up and moved into the aisle. She looked back at the sleeping figures of Klaxby and his companion. She was just about to turn away when the heavy-set man snorted and his head swung downward, knocking off his hat. Half awake, his head snapped back involuntarily. His glasses slipped from his nose. Vicki got a quick look at the mans face before he could bring his sleep-filled eyes into focus. Vicki quickly slipped back into her seat. The mans features were indelibly imprinted on her mind. She didnt recognize him, but she would never forget that face. It was a heavy face. Deep jowls hung down on either side of his neck. His eyes were small, close-set. Pigs eyes, Vicki thought. His complexion was light, almost a pale, sickly white. Thin strands of gray hair were combed back over his big head. Vicki felt sure the man hadnt seen her. He hadnt been fully conscious. If he had noticed, he would have thought she was just one of the stewardesses passing by. Becky came back. Captain Mallinson wants to talk to Klaxby,
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Becky told Vicki. Should I wake him? Of course, Becky. Youre not afraid, are you? Its not exactly that Im afraid. I just dont like having anything to do with anyone like him or the others. Vicki stood up. She wanted to move about, anyway, and this would give her a chance. Ill wake him, she told Becky. She stepped to the seat behind her. The heavy-set man was slumped down again. His hat was back in place. His glasses were on, and his trench-coat collar was turned up. Vicki placed her hand on Klaxbys shoulder and shook him. Klaxby was alert instantly. What do you want? What are you doing out of that seat? He snapped the questions at her. Captain Mallinson wants you. Were you up there? Klaxby seized Vickis wrist. No, I wasnt. Miss Merriweather came back with the message. Captain Mallinson told her to wake you up. Klaxby looked at Vicki suspiciously. Suddenly he leaped to his feet and shoved Vicki as he stepped into the aisle. He leaned into the seat behind. Vicki heard the sound of a loud slap. Wake up! You go to sleep on the job again and youll go to sleep permanent.
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Klaxby had a few other choice phrases for his bodyguard. They burned Vickis ears. The heavy-set man made no motion throughout Klaxbys tirade. He remained slumped down as he was. Get in there and sit down, Klaxby ordered Lou. If you go to sleep again youll get it. Lou moved to the seat beside the heavy-set man. Klaxby stormed up the aisle toward the flight deck. Vicki motioned Becky to take her seat. From the expression on Beckys face, she seemed to be petrified with fear. Klaxbys outburst had done it. Vicki decided to take a chance. She knew Klaxby had told her not to leave her seat. She had just seen his display of anger and violence. Did she dare follow him? Would he lash out at her? She decided to take the chance. Stay here, Becky. Im going up on the flight deck to see whats up. Becky could only nod her head weakly in assent. When Vicki reached the flight deck, Klaxby was talking to Captain Mallinson. He cut his conversation short and turned on Vicki. What are you doing here? I told you to stay in that seat! Miss Merriweather was feeling faint. I had her take my place. I knew you wanted one of us on the
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flight deck at all times when you were here. Vicki gulped after her fast speech. For a moment Klaxby glowered at her. Vicki sighed with relief as he turned back to Captain Mallinson. Okay, now go on with what you want! he growled. Weve been air-borne three hours. My flight engineer estimates weve come nearly two thousand miles. Ive got to know where we go from here. Two thousand miles, you say. Klaxby dug into his suit-coat pocket. Heres that chart of Missouri you gave me the other day. I want to know how far to Kansas City from here. Mallinson and Blanchard looked at the chart. Carter started to get up to join them. Klaxby thrust him roughly back in his seat. This is going to be a rough estimate, Captain Mallinson said. We dont have an exact fix on our present position, since we have no radio communication. We figure around less than two thousand miles. Might be moreit cant be a whole lot less. Then we got about another three hours to go? Aboutif Kansas City is our destination. Well, it aint. You got enough fuel to go farther than that? I cant answer that.
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Why not, fly-boy? Youre the expert. Too many factors involved. Weathers the main one. We have a slight head wind now, but we cant tell what it will be like when we get over Missouri. With favorable conditions, we ought to reach Kaycee with a half hours fuel to spare. See that you do. Thats an order. Vicki could see anger flash across Captain Mallinsons face. Klaxby was unreasonable. Captain Mallinson couldnt control the elements. Klaxby spoke without waiting for a reply from Captain Mallinson. Were going about a hundred miles on past Kaycee. And to the east. Now just get to your flying. Klaxby turned to Tinker. Get back there with . . . He caught himself just in time. He had nearly mentioned the heavy-set mans name. Get back there with Lou. Im taking over up here. Im staying here until we land. Tell the chief everythings all right. Were going to make it. And youhe turned to Vicki, snapping out his instructionsget back there and bring me some coffee. Hot. Klaxby pulled his gun from its holster. Vicki and Tinker went back to the passenger cabin. When Vicki returned, bringing coffee for everyone, all was quiet on the flight deck. Klaxby
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had made Carter yield his seat. She passed the coffee around. No one spoke. The plane continued its speedy flight northward, clicking off ten or more miles every minute. The United States was drawing nearer and nearer. Vickis hopes were high. Her spirits had risen. No longer did she feel tired. Back to the U.S.A. The dangerous adventure was nearing its end, she thought. But was it? The mystery surrounding the hijacking was nowhere near a solution. She felt sure now that her theory about smuggling the heavy-set man into the States was correct. But who was he? Another thought suddenly struck her, sending a chill through her. Where were they going to land? Not Kansas City, Klaxby had said. Some place a hundred miles beyond. But where?

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CHAPTER XIV

Touchdown!

It might have been an ordinary, normal flight from conditions on the flight deck. All was quiet. Copilot Blanchard was at the controls while Captain Mallinson smoked a relaxing cigarette. Carter, the flight engineer, had squatted down on his haunches, his back against the port-side of the plane. Klaxby, chewing an unlighted cigar, held his pistol in his lap and stared at the backs of Mallinsons and Blanchards heads. Vicki stood in the doorway between the flight deck and the passenger cabin. She leaned against the opened door, trying to ease her body. Suddenly the weariness she had shaken off returned to her. She felt tired all over. Yet she was keyed up and couldnt relax. Outside the plane, dawn was beginning to light up the sky. Vicki looked at her watch. Six oclock. They had been in the air for five hours and had flown over three thousand miles. They must be
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nearing their destination, for they were beginning to lose altitude. Vicki knew they were flying over the United States now. The sight of land far below thrilled her. But what would happen if they were picked up by radar? It wouldnt take long before Air Force planes would take to the air to find out about the unidentified plane. Could they land before that happened? Could Klaxby possibly get away with his mad plan? Below, lights flickered from what must be houses and buildings. Straight ahead, a faint glow in the murky light of dawn was readily distinguishable. Could that be Kansas City? Vicki asked herself. Were coming up to Kaycee, Mallinson said quietly, as if in answer to Vickis unvoiced question. How far from here? Klaxby asked. About one hundred miles, Mallinson replied. Lets have that chart. Mark Kaycee on it, Klaxby ordered. Copilot Blanchard made an X over the spot marking Kansas City. He handed it to Klaxby. Klaxby studied the chart for a few moments. He got up, leaned between Mallinson and Blanchard, and held out the chart. See this place here? Vicki, braving Klaxbys wrath, stepped forward so she could see, too.
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Klaxby was indicating a position some fifty miles east and one hundred miles north of Kansas City. Theres an airport there. It aint used now. Air Force used to use it in the last war. Thats where were landing. You know the place? Vicki saw Mallinson and Blanchard exchange glances. Well, do you? Klaxby shot out his question. I do, Blanchard said. Ive been in there. Okay, so youre going in there again. With this job? That strips laid out for prop planes, not for jets, Blanchard said. So. A jet is going to land there. This one! Klaxby snapped back. What are the runway lengths? Mallinson asked Blanchard. Longest is just over five thousand feet. Mallinson shook his head. We need at least six thousand for safety, and thats cutting it fine. Listen, wise guy, Klaxby said. Ive been to that airport toobefore we started this caper. Its all flat around that airfield. So, you run off the runway, you just keep going into what used to be a cornfield. So, start heading there. Klaxby raised the muzzle of his pistol and pointed it threateningly at Mallinsons head. He turned suddenly on Vicki. Or maybe youd like me to give this little girl a going-over. Well . . . how bout it?
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Mallinson shrugged his shoulders. He put the plane into a slight right bank and changed to a northeast course. He began his descent. All right, Klaxby, well try to get in there. But youll have to give Miss Barr and the rest of us complete freedom for the landing. Its going to be tricky and dangerous. Well have to make one pass at the field to get a wind direction. We can get that from any smoke we can pick up. Klaxby nodded his head. Miss Barr, Captain Mallinson said, go back and wake up all the passengers. Alert them and the other stewardesses for an emergency landing. Tell them its going to be a rough one. Time was growing short. Less than fifteen minutes remained before the plane would be over the abandoned airstrip. There was much to do. The passengers were awakened. Vicki instructed them to prepare for an emergency landing. If any of you are wearing glasses or dental plates, remove them. Any sharp object you may be carrying, such as a pen or pencil, should be removed also. We will distribute pillows, blankets, and your outer coats. Place them firmly against your stomachs. Then, as we go into our landing, bend over and grasp your ankles firmly, one with each hand. Remain in that position until the plane has come to a complete stop. Be sure your seat belts are
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tight and firmly secured. The four stewardesses distributed the blankets, pillows, and coats. They showed the passengers how to place them. Thats good, Vicki said to one of the men. If we do stop suddenly, and you are thrust forward, you wont bang your head or get a bloody nose. She went forward and picked up the mike again. I also want to call your attention to the two main exits and the two emergency exits. We dont anticipate any trouble, but it is wise to be prepared. I would appreciate it if four men would volunteer to man each exit and to help us with the slides in the event we have to use them. She didnt add any phrase of cheer or encouragement. This was too serious a situation for any false note of optimism. There was only one word she could have addedpray. Vicki hurried through the passenger cabin, inspecting the arrangement of pillows, blankets, and clothing. She could see from the tense faces that the passengers were frightened. The planes descent caused a sharp ringing in her ears. They must be nearing the ground. Vicki hurried back to the flight deck. All secure, Captain, she reported. No panic? No. Everyone is cooperating superbly.
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Thank you, Miss Barr. It had become much lighter now, not full daylight, but it was possible to distinguish objects on the ground. Vicki glanced at her watch. It was seven fifteen. That was Eastern Standard Time, of course. Out here it was six fifteen. It wouldnt be full daylight for nearly another hour. Ahead, Vicki could see the crisscrossings of concrete airstrips. Captain Mallinson had brought the plane down to five hundred feet. He roared over the landing field. To the right stood a small community of houses. Mallinson and Blanchard looked at them carefully. I got it, Captain. The smoke from those chimneys shows we have a west to east wind. Check. Mallinson put the plane in a sweeping right turn. He headed due east for several seconds, then made a wide, 180-degree turn, heading the aircraft back toward the airstrip due west. Vicki left the flight deck, took a front seat, and strapped herself in. She bent forward and grasped her ankles. Her lips moved in a silent prayer. Minutes became seconds, swift-moving bits of time, plunging the plane nearer the ground and . . . She felt the lurch as the jets balloon-tired wheels touched ground. The plane slewed slightly and bounced up once. Then it settled down to a bumpy,
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bouncing roll. Vicki felt the jet lose speed as Captain Mallinson reversed the thrust of the four jet engines. The plane was still rolling fast. It had only five thousand feet of runway. Vicki could feel the application of the brakes. She could hear the screech of tortured rubber grinding on concrete as the brakes grabbed. A violent sickening lurch threw her body against the restraining seat belt. The plane had overshot the runway. It bounced and slewed and vibrated until Vicki felt it would surely break up. The aircraft decelerated rapidly. Its tremendous weight sunk its wheels into the turf. It slewed to a stop, its tail rising. Were going to nose-over, Vicki thought. The tail continued to rise. Then, when it seemed it must nose-over, the rise stopped, the tail started settling down slowly, then faster, until it struck the ground with a bone-jolting thud. Flight 908 had landed shakily but safely! Vicki dug at her seat belt. She pulled it open and leaped to her feet. Her first concern was for her passengers. She started to sprint to the rear of the plane to see if all passengers were safe. She checked herself and started her inspection in a casual, normal, almost carefree way. A safe landing, folks! she called out as she moved down the aisle. And a happy one. Were
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back in the United States. Her voice fairly sang. Everyone all right? Need any help? The other stewardesses were moving up and down the aisle, removing coats, blankets, and pillows. Many of the passengers were leaning back, their heads against the cushions of their seats, their eyes closed. Vicki knew what each was thinking, what each was saying. Each was expressing gratitude for the safe landing. Klaxby appeared in the doorway of the flight deck. Tinker! he shouted. Get up here. You too. He motioned to Vicki. Take over, Tinker, Klaxby ordered Tinker. And you, he said to Vicki, tell these people not to try anything. We got half an hour to wait. If anyone tries anything, hes going to learn how it feels to have the butt of a gun smashed against his stupid head. And get one of those slides rigged up right away. It wasnt necessary for Vicki to explain the situation to the passengers. The dying whine of the four jet engines permitted Klaxbys menacing words to carry throughout the plane. Klaxby joined the heavy-set man. He bent his head close to him and they spoke softly but rapidly to one another.
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Vicki got the slide in place and went to the flight deck. Tinker, standing at the entrance, tried to prevent her from entering. Leave her alone! Captain Mallinson snapped out. His voice of authority startled Tinker. He stepped aside and let Vicki pass. Whats Klaxby up to now? Mallinson asked. He said we have half an hour to wait, Vicki replied. I dont know what that means. Are we early? Was Klaxby expecting to be met here? That must be it, Miss Barr. But how could anyone know we were coming in? Well, just because we werent permitted to communicate with the States doesnt mean Klaxby couldnt. But of course. He must have telephoned that we were taking off from Guairacorda at midnight and his henchmen were to meet him here. Thats how I figure it. So we wait again. Do you want me to stay here? Vicki asked. No. Not necessarily. Why? I thought I might go back and see if I could help the passengers. They might say something wed want to know. Mallinson frowned at first, then his expression changed, and Vicki knew he had read her message. By passengers, and she had stressed the word, she
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meant Klaxby and his cohorts. Captain Mallinson nodded his head. Vicki left the flight deck. Klaxby, the heavy-set man, and Lou were deep in conversation. As Vicki passed by, she heard Klaxby say, Bust up the radio so they cant use it, then join us. Vicki moved swiftly on by, then turned in time to see Lou nod his head. Back in the galley, Becky was preparing the last of the coffee. Dont know what wed have done without coffee, honey, Becky said. She was again her cheerful self. I do declare, I think these planes must fly on coffee. Vicki laughed for an instant, but Klaxbys words were throbbing in her mind. Bust up the radio, he had told Lou. That could only mean that once Klaxby, the big man, and Tinker had left, Lou was to sabotage the planes radio. That would give them more time to make their getaway. Flight 908 would still be without radio communication. Theyd have to locate a nearby telephone. Klaxby, it seemed to Vicki, had been mighty careless in issuing that order so it could be overheard. But, on second thought, Vicki realized that so far as Klaxby was concerned, he could have made a public announcement. The jet was still under the
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control of Klaxby and his gunmen. As the girls were serving coffee, two long, black limousines pulled up at the end of the airstrip. The big man, followed by Klaxby, hurried to the exit slide. Tinker! Klaxby shouted. Come on! Lous taking over! Vicki knew what this meant. Lou was the one who had been told to knock out the radio. Vicki moved fast. She stationed herself at the doorway to the flight deck. As Tinker went down the slide, Lou made his move. With gun leveled, he started for the flight deck. Vicki waited. She had to time this just right. Just as Lou was abreast of her, turning slightly sideways to squeeze by, Vicki thrust her right leg between his two legs and shoved with all her might. Lou went sprawling into the flight deck. The radio! Vicki shouted. Hes going to smash it! Carter leaped forward and landed on top of the gunman. Mallinson was out of his seat in a flash. He kicked viciously at Lous gun hand. The gun went slithering under the instrument panel. Lou, fighting back savagely, managed to get to his feet. Mallinson, Blanchard, and Carter charged at him. Lou had had enough. He turned, knocked Vicki to the floor, dashed out of the flight deck, and shot
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down the slide. Carter and Blanchard charged after him. Mallinson, having helped Vicki up, appeared in the cabin. Let him go! he shouted. Let him go! Those men are armed! Carter and Blanchard halted at the top of the slide. Vicki came to stand at Captain Mallinsons side. They saw Lou hop into the second car and watched the two cars roar away. There they go, Mallinson said. And we have our plane back, Vicki added. Yes. And with our radio intactthanks to you.

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CHAPTER XV

The FBI Takes Charge

And lets go to itfast, Captain Mallinson said. Itll be nice to have our radio back in action. Now we can tell the world where we are. And how we are, Vicki added. They smiled at each other. Each kept that broad smile as they returned to their duties. Captain Mallinson hurried back to the flight deck. Vicki spoke to the passengers. Well, I dont need to tell you were back back home and safe. Captain Mallinson is on the radio right now to Kansas City. Your relatives and friends will know in a matter of minutes via radio and televisionthat youre safe. Well have plenty of company soon. In the meantime, if any of you want to get out and stretch your legsthe slides in place and the good earth is right below. Thanks a lot. Youve been the most wonderful passengers Ive ever had the pleasure of serving. Vicki went to the flight deck. Captain Mallinson
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was talking to the control tower at the Kansas City airport. No . . . well stay right where we are, he was saying as Vicki entered. We have to. Were mired down up to our hubcaps. And were out of fuelor just about. . . . So, all of us will be on hand to answer any questions. But get here as soon as you can. Over. They didnt have long to wait. Within twenty minutes after Captain Mallinson had radioed Kansas City, a police car from the nearby town of Kingsbury came racing up, siren screaming. It was followed within minutes by two fire trucks. Ladders from the fire trucks were run up against the planes other doors. Some of the passengers had taken advantage of Vickis suggestion and were milling around outside, glad to get their feet on U.S. soil again. With the ladders up, other passengers joined them. In the flight deck, messages were winging back and forth. Come in Kansas City, Copilot Blanchard said. Yes . . . we still read you, loud and clear and happily. . . . He listened for a few minutes, then removed his earphones and rubbed his ears. Theyre sending out two Viscounts right away. The idea is to ferry us and the passengers into Kaycee.
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Ill pass that news on to the passengers, Vicki said. The news was received with cheers. It would only be a matter of two or three hours now before they could get in touch with families, relatives, and friends. Vicki made her first announcement in the plane; the second, from halfway down the front ladder where the other passengers were assembled at its foot. She re-entered the plane. Blanchard was receiving another message. All right . . . theyre in charge. What was that message? Vicki asked. The FBI is on its way here. The orders are that no one is to leave this field. Vicki nodded her head. I guess we should have known theyd be right on the job. Too bad I told the passengers that theyd be in Kansas City soon. They wont mind, Vicki, Captain Mallinson put in. Im sure theyll be only too glad to stay and help. There isnt much they can do, really. We can give the FBI all the information there is to give, Vicki said. I know. Theyll no doubt permit the passengers to leave after brief interviews. No telling when well get out of here, though. By now, the abandoned airstrip was anything but
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abandoned. State police cars had arrived. Townspeople were flocking to the field. Reporters and cameramen from nearby towns were on the scene, plying the passengers with questions. Captain Mallinson ordered his crew to remain in the plane and to keep away from reporters. Wed better tell what we know to the FBI first. So, be nice to the press if they nail you, but dont tell them anything. Vicki went to the planes doorway. She could see more and more cars rolling onto the airstrip. She sought out Captain Mallinson. Captain, with planes coming in from Kansas City, it could be dangerous out there. People and cars all over the field. Weve got to do something. Right you are, Vicki. Wed better put some of those policemen to work. Mallinson and Vicki went down the ladder and hailed a State Police lieutenant. They explained the situation. The lieutenant understood instantly. His men and the local police began the difficult task of keeping the airfield open for the incoming planes. It was quite a job. Everyone wanted to get near the jetliner. The lieutenant posted guards on all sides to hold the curious onlookers back. First plane from Kaycee is coming in. About three minutes, Blanchard sang out. Within ten minutes, three planes had landed on
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the airstrip, two Viscounts sent to pick up the passengers and a plane carrying four FBI agents. Confusion reigned after the arrival of the planes from Kansas City. Questions were shouted. The mob was becoming difficult. A fourth plane, filled with reporters from Kansas City, was circling the field. The chief FBI agent, Albert Scanlon, boarded the jet. He spoke to Captain Mallinson. Radio the tower in Kansas City. Have them contact that press plane that it is under no circumstances to attempt a landing. Things were getting out of hand. This was a big story. It was the biggest thing to happen in this section of Missouri since the early land rush. Well have to get back to Kansas City, Agent Scanlon decided. Too many people milling about here. We can control things better at the airport in Kaycee. Im sure the passengers would like that, Vicki said. Then they can call their families. Great. Round them up. Ill ask the State Police to keep a guard posted on your plane. Now lets get out of here. Fifteen minutes later the first Viscount took off, carrying many of Flight 908s passengers. The second followed, as soon as the first was air-borne. Then the plane with the FBI agents took the air. Within the hour the planes were rolling up to the
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administration building at the Kansas City airport. The Kansas City airport was even more mobbed than the small airstrip they had just left. Word had been flashed over radio and television of Flight 908s return. People flocked to the airport. Radio announcers trailing mike wires, reporters, and cameramen shouted and hailed. Police, in a double line with outstretched hands, formed a human fence for the returned crew and passengers to pass through. Flash bulbs popped until the air looked like a flashing neon sign. Despite the pleas, the protests, the angry demands from the press and television, Agent Scanlon was firm. Everyone from Flight 908 was escorted to a large room in the airport terminal. The doors to it were slammed shut and locked. The press didnt give up. They set up a hullabaloo and beat on the locked doors. Agent Scanlon knew he had to do something. He went to the nearest door. With two other agents leaning against it to keep the door from being forced open, Scanlon unlocked the door and opened it a few inches. Give us half an hour. He had to shout to be heard above the din outside. Half an hour and well hold a press conference. He slammed the door shut and locked it again. I want a fast report on what happened, he told
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the assemblage. We cant hold off the press much longer. But after we see them, Ill still want more time with all of you. Its now ten oclock. Lets get this preliminary questioning over as fast as we can. Captain Mallinson, give us an account of what happened. Captain Mallinson, in short, concise sentences, told the story from the moment the plane had been hijacked until their landing back in the States. Now as to the man they brought back with them. How about him, Captain Mallinson? Did you get a good, close look at him? No, Mr. Scanlon, Captain Mallinson said, Im afraid not. I know I didnt, nor did my copilot and flight engineer. I cant speak for the stewardesses. He turned to Vicki. I dont know about the other girls. I did get one fast look at him . . . Did you recognize him, Miss Barr? Scanlon cut in. No, I didnt. Do you think you could recognize him if you saw him again? I think so, Vicki replied. Im almost sure that I could. Good. Were going to need you, miss. Now about you other girls? Any of you get a good look at this man?
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Becky, Dolores, and Marian all shook their heads. All right. Agent Scanlon looked at his watch. The din outside was beginning to increase. A spokesman from the passengers, please. One man stepped forward. Same questions to you, sir, Scanlon was cutting it short. I believe most, if not all, of the passengers could identify Klaxby, Lou, and Tinker. But as to the other man, I couldnt. I dont believe any of the others could, either. He turned around and glanced inquiringly at those behind him. None spoke. Okay. Thats all for now. Well have to let that news-hungry horde in. I know all of you want to get in touch with your folks. You dont have to stay for this press conference any longer than you want to. We have your names from the passenger list, so go out and make your calls. And try to get back here as close to eleven as you can. Now I dont want you to take this as an offensive order, but an order it does remain. None of you are free to leave this airport this buildinguntil you have been interviewed by me or one of my men. Thank you. Agent Scanlon turned to one of his agents. Okay, Charlie, let em in, he said with a sigh.

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CHAPTER XVI

Home Again, Off Again

The press conference was hectic. It began with reporters shouting rapid-fire questions. TV cameramen tried to monopolize Flight 908s crew. They particularly wanted to keep Vicki and the other stewardesses on camera at all times. They well knew how much an audience likes to look at pretty girls. Newspaper photographers and movie cameramen were equally determined that TV wasnt going to hog the entire situation. After fifteen minutes, a semblance of order was restored and the press conference began to run more smoothly. After forty-five minutes, Agent Scanlon tried to end it, but was unsuccessful. At the end of an hour, he became firm. Reluctantly the reporters, radio, and TV newsmen filed out of the room. Now perhaps we can get down to business, Scanlon said. I want the crew to join me over at
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this table. If you passengers will go to the far end of the room, the other agents will get your stories. Once you have been interviewed, you are free to go. Please tell your interviewer where we can get in touch with you during the next week or two. Scanlon interviewed Mallinson, Blanchard, and Carter first. Then it was Vickis turn. She told her story in a straightforward fashion, omitting no details, nor embellishing any of them. The other girls substantiated Vickis story. At one oclock the interviews were over. I guess thats all for now, Scanlon said. After youve had lunch, I want you to come down to our headquarters. We want to show you some pictures. You may be able to pick out the men who hijacked the plane. Did they make a clean getaway? Vicki asked. Afraid they did, Miss Barr. We set up roadblocks as fast as we could after Captain Mallinson radioed his report. But they must have had just enough time to get away before our men and the State Police took over. During luncheon, Captain Mallinson received a telephone call from Federal Airlines headquarters in New York. When he returned to the table, he had a big grin on his face. Good news, Captain? Vicki asked. Ill say. That was the boss. The big boss,
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president of the airline. He sent his personal congratulations to all of us and . . . weve all been given a week off. He thinks we need itI agree. This was certainly welcome news. New York headquarters is sending out a team to get our storya debriefing team. Were to meet them back here as soon as we finish at the FBI office. Then were on our own. Suddenly Vicki felt a terrific letdown. The news that she had a whole week to herself made her realize just how tired she was. Her shoulders drooped. A wave of weariness swept through her body. She pushed her dessert away from hertoo tired to finish. So, once were through at the FBI office, Captain Mallinson said, and tell our story to the team coming down, we can take it easy. We can get a flight out of here for New York around seven. Whos for New York? Everyone spoke up with an emphatic Yes except Vicki. And what about you, Miss Barr? Captain Mallinson asked. I think Ill go home. Im going to call my family right away. Vickis talk with her family was a happy and exciting one. Her mother answered the telephone. Vicki dear. Weve been so worried. Are you all
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right? . . . But you looked so drawn and tired on television. Of course, weve been glued to the TV all morning. . . . Youre coming home? . . . How wonderful. But do you think youre up to it? Would you like your father come to Kansas City and bring you home? Oh, no, Mother. Thats not necessary. I am tired, but just the thought of coming home has raised my spirits. And you, Mother, how are you feeling? . . . Oh, thats good. I know how you must have worried. . . . In the background, Vicki could hear her sister clamoring for the phone. She could also hear their dog, Freckles, barking excitedly. In a minute, Ginny . . . in a minute, Vicki heard her mother say. Oh, all right. . . . When will you be arriving in Fairview? Theres a six-oclock flight. Hope I can make it. That will put me in Fairview a little after eight. Wonderful . . . wonderful. Well meet you. By dear . . . heres your sister. Ginny bubbled and babbled so fast, Vicki could hardly understand a word she said. Hold it, Sis. You can tell me all about whatever youre saying when I get home. . . . Let me talk to Dad. Moments later, she heard her fathers voice. Victoria. Your mother tells me youll be home
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tonight. We were so worried. But alls well now? . . . Good. Ill cook a special dish for you. Hurry home, Victoria. Good-by, my dear. Vicki hung up. Tears stung her eyes. Dear Dad, she thought. Hell work so hard on that special dish. I do hope it comes out all right, for his sake. Vicki was also glad to be going home to see just how far along the road to recovery her mother had come. She had sounded much less tired than when Vicki had last talked to her. But seeing her in person, watching her move around would tell Vicki everything she wanted to know. Vicki rejoined the others and they split up, using two taxis to go to the FBI office. Agent Scanlon took them into a conference room where a long table was covered with books of pictures. All of them picked out Klaxbys picture easily. Hes served time in prison, Scanlon said. But we havent heard anything about him for some time. He hasnt been on our wanted listhasnt done anythinguntil now. But we sure want him now. You didnt spot the others? The ones called Lou and Tinker? None of them had. They must be new members of the gangno records yet. NowScanlon pausedI want you all to look very closely at these pictures. He passed them to Captain Mallinson. The two pictures made
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the rounds. None of the crew could identify either man until the pictures were handed to Vicki. She looked at them carefully. After a few moments, she discarded one of them. And what about the picture youre holding, Miss Barr? Scanlon asked. I think this is the man we picked up in Guairacorda. But he was a little heavier, fatter, than he looks in this picture. That could well be. Hes been inactive for over a year. Is there anything about his face that you can feel most definite about? Vicki nodded her head. Yes. His eyes. I remember when I saw themthey reminded me ofwell, pigs eyes. Thats Biggy, all right. Biggy Seligston. And you picked the one feature that definitely identifies him. When he was younger, not the boss, he was called Piggy. But when he became the all-powerful gang chief, the Piggy was dropped mighty fast by his henchmenhe saw to thatand he became Biggy Seligston. Vicki handed the picture back to Agent Scanlon. He ruled a big crime syndicate spreading out over the Midwest. Kansas City was his headquarters, although he operated out of St. Louis and St. Jo as well. But we nailed himincome-tax evasion. He went up for two years, then he was deported. And
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now hes back. When we heard he had left Portugal, we thought he might be heading for South America. We know all about Guairacorda. When you told us youd come from there, we felt sure Biggy, or the man in the other picture we showed you, was your passenger. Biggys in Kansas City, or somewhere nearbywell, well get him. It may take time. He must have a new hideout. But well find it. Now, I know youre all anxious to go. But be assured of my thanks, of the thanks of your government. And a special vote of thanks to you, Miss Barr. Are you going back to New York? No. Im going home to Fairview, Illinois. Its not far from Chicago. Yes, I know where it is. And I have your home phone number. Thats all for now. Again, my thanks. Agent Scanlon shook hands all around, and the crew of Flight 908 left. Vicki was able to catch a six-oclock plane for Fairview. The flight took a little over two hours. Her family was at the airport to meet her. She was glad to see that her mother looked like her old self again. The ride home was given over completely to questions and answers about Vickis experience. By the time the family reached The Castle, Vicki had accounted for every moment of her time from Miami to Guairacorda to Fairview. Mrs. Barr bustled around preparing hot tea and
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toast. Mr. Barr had a huge fire roaring in the fireplace. Ginny presented Vicki with a lovely bunch of chrysanthemums. How lovely, Ginny! Vicki exclaimed. Just where did you get them. Theyre beautiful! At the airport. While we were waiting for you. I hid them in the car, so I could give them to you at home. Thanks, Sis. I really appreciate your thoughtfulness. Vicki arose and gave Ginny a hug. Dad, how about that surprise bit of cooking you mentioned over the phone? That will have to wait, Victoria. Your mother felt a nice thick steak would be better for tonight, her father replied. Do you think, dear, Mrs. Barr asked, that we ought to have our doctor come to check you over? Oh, no, Mother. Im perfectly all right. Tired, yes. It was a nerve-racking experience. But I didnt suffer any physical punishment. Well, if you say so, dear. Oh my! I forgot! Betty Barr exclaimed. Youre to call long-distance operator 219, New York. Pete Carmodys been trying to get you all afternoon. Vickis face lighted up. May I use the phone in your study, Dad? Petes going to want me to go into every detail again. Ill have my story down by heart, soon.
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Go right ahead, Victoria. Vicki talked to Pete for fifteen minutes. He was at Idlewild, waiting for the arrival of the rest of Flight 908s crew. Are you coming to New York before you go back to work? he asked. I dont know yet, Pete. Im just going to rest up for a few days. Ill let you know if I do fly in. When Vicki returned to the living room, her mother said, Vicki, you do look so tired, and I know you need to rest. Why dont you go to your room and hop right into bed? Well bring your dinner up to you when its ready. Thanks, Im going to take you up on that offer. Mrs. Barr and Ginny went with Vicki to her room, and tucked her in. Later, when they came upstairs with Vickis dinner, she was sound asleep. For the first two days of her visit home, Vicki did absolutely nothing. She rested, talked to a few friends on the telephone, and wandered around The Castles grounds. She had promised to go to a party on the third night of her visit home. But at ten in the morning, a call came through for her. It was from Miami. Miss Barr? . . . This is Harold Walker of the FBI. I was one of the agents on duty when your flight took off.
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Oh, yes, Mr. Walker. I remember. Albert Scanlon in Kansas City said I could reach you at your home. I hate to interrupt your vacation, but it is essential that you come to Miami immediately. Oh, dear, Vicki said. You mean today? I mean right now, Miss Barr. Weve picked up a man we think may have been one of those you overheard talking on the beach. We need your positive identification. Well make arrangements for you on the twelve-noon flight, nonstop Chicago to Miami. All right. Ill have to hurry. At seven oclock that evening Vicki was back in Miami. At eight oclock she was being led into a room to inspect a line-up.

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CHAPTER XVII

The Line-Up

Vicki had never seen a line-up before, except on television. Viewing one firsthand was a new and chilling experience. The room she entered had a raised platform at the rear. Bright, overhead lights just in front of the platform shot a blinding glare on the six men standing against a white wall. Lines, indicating height, were the only markings on the wall. Agent Walker spoke softly to Vicki. Four of those men are our own agents. One is the man we picked up. The other, a volunteer. We deliberately picked the five because theyre of about the same size, physical make-up, and coloration as the man were holding. We want you to be absolutely certain that the man you pick out is the one you saw on the beach and in the lobby of the Alcazar. And what if I pick out one of your agents? Vicki asked.
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Well fire him, Walker said with a laugh. Then he added, No, Miss Barr. That happens quite frequently. Just look them all over carefully, and if you feel certain, tell me what man. If none of them looks like your man, just say so. We make mistakes, too. Not often, fortunately. Vicki moved forward, Agent Walker at her side. When she was about ten feet away from the platform she stopped. She could see the men quite plainly. Yet the blinding light above them prevented the men on the stage from seeing her. Vicki carefully scrutinized each man. She was certain she recognized the man. But she looked again to make absolutely sure. There was no doubt in her mind. The third manthird from the left, Vicki whispered to Walker. Youre positive? Vicki nodded her head. All right, Walker called out. Youre dismissed. The six men filed off the stage. The third man is the one we picked up, Miss Barr, Walker said. Come on into my office and Ill tell you about it. Weve had our eyes on this man for some time. His name is LaresPrisco Lares. Hes a mercenary, a soldier of fortune. Hed do anything for money. We didnt have anything specific on him, but we
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have had agents check his every move. You see, Miss Barr, he is also a pilot. Hes flown jets fighter jets, not transports. Agent Walker paused. And you were afraid he might try to hijack a plane? Yes, we were. He and his companionthe other man you sawhave been in this country about six weeks. Then, the day your flight took off and was hijacked, Lares and his pal, a man named Ricardo Jubello, disappeared. We thought they had hijacked the plane. But when we didnt get any word from our undercover man in Lares country that the jet had landed there, we started an intensive search for them. They had gone underground all right. But we ferreted out Lares, and well have Jubello soon. But they apparently didnt have anything to do with the actual hijacking, Vicki said. Thats where youre wrong, Miss Barr. They did, or almost did. They were in on it from the start. What you overheard was a definite part of the plan to hijack Flight 908. But, Mr. Walker, Vicki protested, I dont understand their part in the hijacking. Youll get the picture in a moment. Lares has talked just enough for us to put part of this jigsaw puzzle together. Klaxby contacted Lares and Jubello. We dont know yet how the meeting was set
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up, but it was. After the first meeting, Klaxby worked through a third man. We think he was the man you saw in the telephone booth. Hes no doubt a henchman of Klaxbys. Remember, Lares is a pilot. Jubello probably is, too. Vicki nodded her head. She was beginning to get the setup. Do you mean, Mr. Walker, that originally Klaxby was going to use those men to help steal the plane? Because theyre pilots? Yes. Klaxby wanted someone who could take over the controls if Mallinson or Blanchard had to be knocked out. Then why did he change his mind? Klaxbys a hoodlum. But Id say he was a smart one to have pulled this caper off. Remember, Lares and Jubello and their cohorts would do anything for money. If they could have figured a way to doublecross Klaxby at a profit, they would have done it. So Klaxby got on to that, Vicki said, and felt he could not follow his original plan. Thats right. It was then that Klaxby told Lares and Jubello that we were on to themwhich we wereand that they would have to go into hiding and hijack the plane at a later datewhen the heat was off. Then he just went ahead on his own. He had all the information he needed from Lares and Jubello, including maps, flight time, and so forth.
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As bad as things were for Flight 908, it probably was lucky for us that Klaxby changed his original plan, Vicki said thoughtfully. Yes, you might not be here now. . . . Well, thats all for tonight, Miss Barr. We do want you to stay around Miami until we pick up Jubello. Well need positive identification of him, too. All right, Mr. Walker. Will it be long, do you think? Im due to go back on duty in a few days. Well pick him up soon, I hope. Three days went by before the FBI picked up Jubello. Vicki went through the same identification processthe line-up. She had no trouble picking him out. Jubello had a sneering expression on his face. His entire attitude was one of defiance. There was no doubt in Vickis mind that he was the man she had seen on the beach with Lares. Vicki accompanied Agent Walker back to his office. Sit down, Miss Barr, if you have a few minutes. Agent Walker glanced quickly at the telephone messages left on his desk during his absence at the line-up. I want to thank you for your cooperation here, as well as in Kansas City. Id like to ask you to stay longer, but we feel youve given us enough of your time. And we cant be sure the third manthe man
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you saw in the hotel lobbyis still here. Anything you can add to the description you gave us of him before? I really dont think so, Mr. Walker. As I said, he had brown hair and eyes. He was sort of mousylooking. Let me think a minute. There was something about the mans appearance that kept escaping Vicki. She thought hard. What was it? Then it came to her. Oh. This may help. I remember now. He was very fair. I mean, his skin was almost pasty white. That didnt make much of an impression on me at the time. He would naturally look fair in comparison to Lares and Jubello, because they both were dark. But, as I think back, this third man certainly was no sun lover, or he hadnt been in Miami very long. Hed be noticeable among any group who had been in the Florida sun for long. Does that help? Every little detail helps, Miss Barr. This man, we believe, was the go-between between Klaxby and Lares and Jubello. He would stay undercover most of the timewouldnt want to be identified by too many of Lares and Jubellos cohorts. That could well account for his pale complexion, even if he had been here several weeks. Do you think hes still here? Thats hard to tell. He probably would have attempted to get to Kansas Cityor, at least, tried to
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be well on his way therebefore the news broke that your plane had been hijacked. And he might be there now. On the other hand, if he had to keep the attention of Lares and Jubello diverted until after your plane had taken off and only managed to shake them just before the hijacking was announced, he might have gone into hiding here. He would have realized that Lares and Jubelloand possibly their cohorts would be seeking revenge because he had doublecrossed them. Im sure youll catch him, Vicki said. They havent found Seligston yet? Agent Walker shook his head. No. But the hunt is onon big. Well get him. Agent Walker arose and held out his hand. Good-by, Miss Barr. The FBI owes you a lot. Dont be surprised if the chief in Washington sends a letter of commendation to your boss in New York, praising you to the skies. Vicki blushed, said a smiling good-by, and left. Her job in Miami was done. She checked in with Federals Service Manager and Stewardess Office in Miami, reporting back for duty. She was assigned to a west coast run out of San Francisco. She would be flown out there as a passenger on the first flight the next day. Back in her room at the Alcazar Hotel that night,
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Vicki felt that at long last her adventure with the hijacked plane had come to an end. It would be so good, she thought, to get back into the regular routine of work. Vicki retired early. Sleepgood, sound, restful sleepcame to her quickly. She awoke early, feeling gay and carefree. She was looking forward to the flight to the coast. She packed her bagsone small, one largechecked her room carefully, and was ready to go. She was wearing a lightweight wool, beige-colored dress. Over her arm, she tossed a white woolly stole. She might need it for warmth a little later. She also carried a beige corduroy allweather coat for her arrival in San Francisco. A bellboy fetched her bags. Vicki arrived at the airport an hour before her flight was to take off. She boarded the plane long before the paying passengers and was greeted as something of a celebrity by the regular stewardesses on the flight. If you need any help, call on me, Vicki said. I guess Im like that postman on a holidayhe wants to take a walk. Well call on you if we need you, Vicki, Stewardess Monica Henderson replied. Dont think we will, though. Take it easy while you can. Youll be back in uniform tomorrow. Back on the job. Dream your way out to the coast. We only make one
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stopKansas City. Youre our guest. Thats a switch for you, isnt it? And one Im going to take full advantage of, Vicki replied gaily. Vicki found a seat in the rear of the plane. The plane filled rapidly. In forty-five minutes it was airborne. She settled herself comfortably in the window seat and thumbed idly through a magazine. Her seat companion was a very large, very heavy woman. Vicki could hardly be seen from the aisle. She read and dozed throughout most of the flight, snuggled into her white stole. Stewardess Henderson brought her a glass of milk when she served coffee to the woman beside Vicki. Vicki drank the milk, settled back, and closed her eyes. The next thing she knew, she felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Monica Henderson. Well be landing in Kaycee soon. About ten minutes. Want to freshen up first? Vicki rubbed her eyes, nodded her head, and stood up. The heavy woman swung her legs sidewise and Vicki slid past her. When she returned, the No SmokingFasten Seat Belts signs flashed on. As Vicki was about to sit down, she noticed Monica in conversation with a man four seats ahead. The man was standing in the aisle, reaching up for his coat and hat. Monica, Vicki knew, was insisting that he be seated immediately and fasten his seat
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belt. The man glowered at Monica, shrugged his shoulders, and finally nodded his head in agreement. Before he sat down, he put on his topcoat. Vicki watched the scene with interest. There was usually an eager beaver on most flights, one who wanted to be first off the plane. The man looked at Monica once more before sitting down and said something. Vicki looked at him carefully. There was something familiar about this man. She was sure she had seen him before. But where? He had brown hair. Vicki wished she could see his eyes. He had turned the collar of his coat up, so that his face looked like that of a mouse with big ears. Mouse! She knew who he was! He was the third man of the three in Miamithe companion of Lares and Jubello. What had fooled her at first was the mans complexion. It had lost its pasty look. It was a reddish face, a face that had been exposed to too much sun, too fast. Apparently this man had gotten out of Miami as soon as he could after learning of Jubellos arrest. The news would have been in that mornings Miami papers. The plane had touched down and was taxiing in to the terminal. Vicki thought fast. She would tell the captain at once. But it would take time for the
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captain to notify the tower and for the tower to alert the police or FBI. Vicki climbed hurriedly over the heavy woman as the plane started slowing to a halt. Excuse me, she said to the woman and sped up the aisle toward the flight deck. Questioning glances of other passengers followed her progress. The plane came to a halt as Vicki got Monica to unlock the door to the flight deck and let her in. Time was shortin seconds, the passengers would be deplaning. Vicki poured out the story to the captain in a torrent of words. The tower! Youve got to call them right away! The captain acted on Vickis words. Vicki heard the planes doorway open. She heard the unloading platform being put into place. Hurry, please hurry! Vickis story was being passed on. Vicki stood by nervously. Finally she couldnt stand the suspense any longer. She turned back to the passenger cabin. Already passengers were getting out. She looked toward the rear of the plane. The man she had spotted was pushing his way toward the exit, ignoring the angry glances turned upon him. Vicki withdrew far enough into the doorway to the flight deck so she could see the man but he wouldnt be able to see her too plainly. She didnt
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think he would recognize her. She didnt remember his looking at her in the hotel back in Miami. Towers messaging the FBI right now, Miss Barr, she heard the captain say. Too late. The man would be gone. Vicki didnt hesitate. This man must not get away. Shed have to follow him. At the doorway, she looked down the ramp. He was gone. Her eyes searched the area between the plane and the entrance to the terminal. There he was, halfway between. Vicki went down the ramp as fast as she could. The man was disappearing into the terminal as she reached the ground. She ran to the terminal. Inside, breathless, she looked around. She wove her way through the crowd of people waiting for friends and relatives to deplane. On the fringe of the crowd she stopped. Her eyes darted about. Was he gone? Had she lost him? She walked swiftly toward the taxicab exit. Halfway there, she saw him. Vicki quickened her pace. She was only twenty feet behind the man when he stopped. Vicki turned around, seeking some protection if the man should look her way. She ducked behind a pillar. She could see the man light a cigarette. Then he carefully looked around, as if to see if anyone were following him. Apparently satisfied, he made for the exit.
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Vicki waited. One second. Two. The man was through the exit. Vicki ran across the space to the revolving door. She shoved against it. It swung around, bringing her outside just in time to see and hear a taxi door bang shut. There was another taxi right behind. It pulled up in front of Vicki. She hopped in. That taxi, she gasped breathlessly. Follow it! The one that just left! The driver turned and looked at her questioningly. Please! Please hurry! You mustnt lose him. Okay, miss. The driver shrugged his shoulders and put his taxi into gear. Already the other cab was two hundred feet ahead. If it reached the traffic stream before Vickis taxi could get closer to it, there wouldnt be much chance of picking it out later. The cab in front had to slow before entering the main traffic route to the city. Vicki sighed with relief. Then she was struck by another thought. Was the manthe man she wanted to followin that cab? How could she be sure? She hadnt actually seen him enter it. He could very well have turned left or right, once outside the door, and walked to a parking lot. Well, all I can do is hope, Vicki said to herself. Ive got to follow that taxi. Nothing else to do
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now. It was touch and go for the next half hour. Twice Vicki felt sure they had lost the taxi in the traffic. Each time the driver assured her he was following the same cab. Vicki sat back and tried to relax. She couldnt. She sat forward again, keeping her eyes on the taxi ahead. They were entering a part of the city that had once been a fine residential section. But the business section had encroached. The big mansions had become rooming houses. Some had small stores on their lower floors. The houses sat back some twentyfive feet from the street. Smaller stores had been built between the big houses. No longer were there expanses of lawn as there had been years before. They were approaching a corner. The taxi ahead pulled into the right curb and came to a stop. Vickis driver started to slow, too. No! No! Keep going, driver. They crossed the intersection. Vicki looked out the rear window. The house on the corner was still surrounded by lawn. It hadnt been chopped up into stores and rooms for rent. Stop now, Vicki said. Vicki saw a man get out of the taxi. Her heart sang! It was the same man. He had on the same topcoat, its collar still turned up. The man hurried up
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the steps from the sidewalk to the flagstone path to the front door. Then he was inside. Vicki looked around her. Across the street, on the corner diagonally opposite the big house, there was a small drugstore. Vicki got out. Wait for me, driver. She hurried across the street, digging into her purse for change. There still wasnt a second to lose. She had to get in touch with the FBI right away. She had a dime in her hand as she entered the store. She gave a sigh of relief, an inward voice of thanksthe telephone booth was empty. Her dime jingled down the coin box. The FBI please. Hurry. I dont know the number. One moment, please. Vicki waited, her heart pounding. Federal Bureau of Investigation, the operator answered. Mr. Scanlon, please. Its urgent. This is Vicki Barr. The agents voice came on immediately. Weve been waiting to hear from you. We got your message from the airport tower. But you were gone by the time we could get our men out there. I know. I couldnt wait. I followed the man. What man? That third man. The one with Lares and
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Jubello. Good. And you were able to follow him? Where to? To . . . Oh, dear, wait a minute. Vicki stuck her head out of the phone booth and called to a clerk. Where is this drugstore? The clerk looked astonished. Why, right here. I mean, corner of East Oak and Vine. Vicki slammed the telephone-booth door shut. East Oak and Vine. Im in a drugstore. The man went into a big house diagonally across from this store. Stay where you are. Keep out of sight, Scanlon snapped back and hung up. Vicki took up a position by the stores front window. She could see the house clearly. Fifteen minutes went by. Twenty. There seemed to be no activity. Vicki looked at her watch. It had been nearly half an hour since she had telephoned. The storekeeper was looking at her curiously. Im waiting for a friend, Vicki called to him. Do you mind? The storekeeper shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. Vicki looked out the window again. She saw a car pass, go halfway down the block, and stop. Four men got out. Two crossed the street to the side the
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drugstore was on. The men separated. One walked back toward the house. When he had gone about fifty feet, the second man followed. Vicki looked across the street. She saw two more men turn the corner and walk down the street along the side of the house. Vicki felt sure they were FBI agents taking up positions. She was so intent that she jumped when a voice said behind her: Is that the house, Miss Barr? She whirled around. It was Agent Scanlon. He was wearing a postmans uniform. Yes. The FBI agent went out without another word. The minutes dragged on. Still no action. Then Vickis eye was caught by a figure in a postmans uniform walking up to the door. She saw him knock and saw the door swing inward. From nowhere apparently, three more men rushed up the walk and dashed through the door behind the postman. Now the men she had seen take up positions on the two streets closed in. She saw two dash around to the rear of the house. Two more took up positions on either side of the front door. Thenquiet! Street traffic moved as usual. People passed by on the sidewalk. Vicki kept looking from her watch to the house. Ten minutes. Fifteen. She saw two big, black limousines pull up in
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front of the house. Minutes later, the front door opened. Out came the postmanAgent Scanlon. The two men on each side of the front door had submachine guns trained. A heavy-set man, one arm manacled to the arm of another came out. It was Biggy. Vicki could not mistake that figure. A second man came out, also manacled to an FBI agent. Klaxby! Next was the man she had spotted on the plane. They were followed by others. She could distinguish Biggys hoodlums from the FBI men, even at that distance away. The captured hoodlums had their chins buried on their chests and tried to hide their faces with their free hands. If there were any news photographers around, they didnt want them to get clear pictures of them. The captured gangsters and the FBI men got into the black limousines. The cars moved away quickly. Thats it I guess, Vicki said to herself. She looked across the street. Her taxi driver had waited. She could see him slumped back, head against the seat, his cap pulled over his eyes. Vicki smiled. Golly, what he just missed! she murmured. Vicki left the drugstore and started across the street. Just as she stepped off the curb, she heard someone call her name. It was Agent Scanlon coming toward her. Got every one of them, Miss Barr. No trouble,
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no fight. Well, one small scuffle. It was a complete surprise. Seems Im always saying thanks to you. Ill say thanks once more. Vicki smiled in reply. Agent Scanlon strode to his car. Back at her taxi, Vicki roused her driver. Where now, miss? Back to the airport. To herself she said, And on to San Francisco. Back to the airport? You mean you took this ride for nothing? No, I dont really think it was for nothing, Vicki said. Read the newspapers tonight.

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