The mountains of Azerbaijan are splendid to view. Home to diverse natural phenomena, from the Caucasian Mountains, stately and tall, to the Caspian Sea, blue and salty, the country is a marvel of Mother Nature and a tourist’s delight. But at that moment in time, it was the scene of a dreadful encounter that was about to unfold to its disastrous crescendo.
*
But even above the sounds of the plane as it began to slip, moving down to meet the ground at an alarming speed, even over the frantic appeals being made by the pilot, seeking assistance, the Capo had known that his end was inevitable.
But Shah had stepped forward and said, his voice cold and controlled as ever.
‘Capo, give me your jacket.’
Philippe had met the passionate black eyes, the steady gaze of the man who had served Lucien Delano for years before he became a part of Philippe’s crew. He knew what the man was saying, even as the others scrambled to find life-saving equipment.
If anyone found Shah’s body, in the unfortunate event of the plane crashing, the word would go out that it had been the Capo who had been killed. He pushed the Capo out of the way, to a safer seat and stood his ground when the younger man would have argued.
“There is no time, Philippe,’ he said wearily.
*
They had already figured out that it was the dastardly Dusak and his uncle, the evil Monk, Paval Rudenko, who had been behind this sabotage of their plans.
Without another word, Philippe ripped off his coat and handed it to Shah, along with the papers establishing his identity. Shah did the same and then Philippe engulfed the shorter man in a bear hug, for he knew that if anything, the men employed by Dusak would not leave Shah alive if they imagined it was Philippe in the familiar black jacket and the longish black hair, something that Shah also sported, similar to the Capo. The men were similar in build as well, except for Shah’s slightly shorter frame.
Suddenly, the pilot’s hoarse, panic-stricken cries rose to a crescendo as he screamed, ‘Dear God! We are going…’
And then, the ground was rushing up to meet them at a tremendous speed. Philippe and Shah threw their arms about their heads to protect their heads and then, the explosion as the plane crashed was all that the Capo could recall.
*
And that was by far the only saving grace of the situation, thought the Capo.
The place where the aircraft had crashed was quite a distance away from the airstrip which had been chosen by the men in Azerbaijan.
Despite being hit, the pilot had been heroically struggling to contain the damage; he had also succeeded in getting away a safe distance from the place where the firing had broken out. Most importantly, he had managed to swerve before the little aircraft smashed into the rocky face of the mountains. Sadly, the pilot had passed before he could comprehend the extent of his valiant deed. The force of the collision as the plane hit the ground, had been borne by the men in the cockpit and the stewardesses, the two women, had also been unable to escape. Their bodies sprawled in the broken body of the aircraft, too damaged for anything to be done.
*
It could have been ten minutes or ten hours. Philippe had no clue as he lay, his breathing labored, the sounds ringing dimly in his head. Every bone in his body hurt and he could barely move his head, his arm felt heavy.
Gradually, Philippe’s system kicked in, his survival instincts urging him to get up and move to a safer place. Any minute now, Dusak and his men would appear to check to see if the Capo and his crew had perished.
He looked about himself, disoriented for a minute. In between the flickering flames and the smoke, he was able to make out the bodies of his men, unmoving and ominously still; the slumped bodies of the pilot and the co-pilot, lifeless.
He looked around again, scrabbling to take off the seat belt which had anchored him to the seat. He could feel something wet and sticky on his forehead and knew that he had hurt his head, and his leg felt …he looked down. The seat in front of him had fallen on his leg, pinning him down. The sense of urgency increased.
He turned his head sharply as a short, rasping cough alerted him and he spun around, making a herculean effort to shift himself. Shah lay, blood oozing from his head, a deep cut on his forehead, and blood at the back of his head too, pooling onto his jacket, the jacket he had taken from the Capo. The man was seriously hurt. He groaned as he panted,
“Capo, run. Those bast*rds will be here any minute.’
“Get the f*ck up man,’ growled the Capo but he knew it was futile. Shah was pinned down by the entire overhead upholstery that had fallen onto him for had been in a seat that faced the Capo, having voluntarily chosen the one seat which was more unsafe.
Now he shook his head and groaned,
“Capo, get out of here, NOW!’
Philippe rose to his towering height with difficulty. Not a single one of his men seemed to be alive and he had only brought along a crew of four. A skeleton crew for he had had no inkling that they were flying into danger. He swayed, his hand going to his head; a wave of nausea overcame him.
F*ck, he thought angrily. He could not afford to be weak and slip into unconsciousness now.
Suddenly he heard a gasp and spun around.
Grayson, a slim, new recruit, was lying, half sitting, and he was rising to his feet with difficulty. He coughed and Philippe realized that he must look the same as the disheveled-looking youngster before him, wild-eyed and terrified; soot-blackened and shell-shocked.
“Capo,’ begged the dying man at his side and he knelt down to grip the man’s hand, the hand of a loyal and faithful comrade before he turned to Grayson who was standing now, swaying on his feet but alert.
“Let’s go,’ he growled for he knew that it would not be easy to help his friend and extricate him from the iron and plastic on top of him. The man was pinned under debris.
Shah smiled, tears in his eyes as he said,’ Capo, please take care of my Maisie and our kids.’
The Capo nodded, his own throat tightening with emotion but Grayson tugged at his arm, eyes widening in alarm. Then they heard it, at the same time. The sound of approaching vehicles. And not one or two. A cavalcade. With a final look at his staunch and loyal man, Philippe came to a split-second decision. With a superhuman effort, he gripped Shah by the waist and hauled him up. Grayson jumped forward and the two of them managed to half-pull, half-drag out the body of the man whose waist was drenched in blood.
Shah panted, ‘Leave me, Capo. I am a goner.’ He shook his head, trying to chuckle but his eyes were filling.
Philippe swore at him and making a supreme effort, dragged him out, his arm draped over the Capo’s shoulder.
Then, he dragged Shah, hefted him onto his back, and managed to stumble out.
*
The area surrounding them was a dazzling wilderness, the majesty of nature laid out for anyone to behold and admire. Craggy mountains rose up around them for the plane had come down in the midst of the tall mountains. Dense forests, ravines, and the sound of water trickling down the waterfalls reached their ears as they managed to move, steadily but with difficulty, to the cover of the trees. But suddenly Philippe realized that the man on his back had become a dead weight.
Grayson seemed to notice it at the same time.
“Capo,’ he cried hoarsely, his eyes misting over,
“Capo, he is gone. Shah is gone, Boss.’ Philippe lowered the body of his close associate to the ground and saw that Grayson was right. There was a glassy, unseeing look on Shah’s face.
He had passed to a realm beyond this one.
*
It was Grayson who made the decision. He lifted Shah’s body, carrying him to the rapidly burning plane and left it there before sprinting back into the glade where Philippe stood, swaying. His head was spinning and he could barely stand. The pain in his leg was radiating to his toes.
The Capo stood, stunned as he watched Grayson limp back. The younger man tugged on the Capo’s arm and said, desperation evident in his voice,’ Boss, let’s hide.’
For now, the sound of the vehicles was close and the men barely managed to dive into the cover of the dense forest again before there was a deafening roar as the plane went up, clouds of black smoke billowing into the air. And from the other side of the ravine, they saw the cars of men in combat fatigues leap out of their jeeps and trucks to stand and stare.
Some of the vehicles began to rev up as they prepared to come around to the side of the plane crash. No doubt to examine if the Capo had perished.
Philippe’s gaze narrowed on the man who seemed to be in charge.
Dusak the One-Eyed.
Muscular and beefy, he stood, his feet planted to the sides, arms folded as he watched, a gloating expression of delight on his face as he studied the wanton destruction he and his men had caused.
Philippe swore softly. Crudely.
The Capo would wait. There would be a time to avenge the death of his man.
For now, they had to move, as swiftly as they could. The cover of the forest and the gathering darkness would help.