The Captive Missile Chapter 2

The Captive Missile 

Chapter 2

The plane seemed to have left the turbulence. I unhooked my seatbelt and made my way up to the cockpit. Natalie was already on the radio.

Iqaluit Airstrip. This is Operation Snowbound Flight 608. We have something unusual to report.

What is it, flight 608?, a voice crackled over the receiver

Was there supposed to be any nuclear missile testing at location Mirror Bay Inlet? Just had a sighting of what appeared to be a nuclear missile. Something’s very strange about it being so far south. The Northlands facility is another hour north of our position.

Silence on the line then, “we’ll get back to you. What’s your position?

Natalie gave our position again and a description of the large snow vehicle and the missile. I had seen a picture of this missile not too long ago in the news.

Could this be the new missile, the Informant? The Canadian government had commissioned its construction and was taking heavy flak from the general public. Were they testing it this far south on the island? I doubted the military budget would require a decrepit-looking snow mobile to carry the missile to the launch site. Something was definitely wrong.

Natalie flew around in a circle and we spotted the snow vehicle again. It was at the shoreline where a boat was anchored not too far offshore.

Are they taking the missile on the boat, Van wondered? But why? Surely the testing isn’t over water.

I don’t know, but this is definitely not right. Suddenly the windshield of the plane cracked in spider lines. Another bump from underneath and the plane jolted suddenly.

What the—? Van exclaimed. What was that?

They’re shooting at us, Natalie said between gritted teeth. Another shot hit the side door then.

I looked out the window to the ground below. Off to the side of the boat that was bobbing on the water, I could see a man aiming a rifle at us, the sun glinting off the barrel.

Natalie turned the plane back towards the north. Suddenly the plane lurched. We lost the rear engine, Natalie reported. We have to land somewhere—and fast!

Preferably not near these guys, I said. How much farther can we go? Can we make the next village?

I’ll try, she muttered. The nearest settlement is about 5 km up the coast she said, checking her instruments. There’s a landing strip just to the south of the village. I don’t know if we can make it that far, Justin, she’s losing altitude.

We were soon out of range of the sniper, but like Natalie said, we were dropping fast. She tried to gain altitude, but it was a losing battle.

Valiantly she held on to the stick and maneuvered the plane as best she could, trying to keep the nose of the plane in the air to gain some distance. Her knuckles were white on the steering wheel.

Is that the airstrip, Van said about a minute later, pointing. His voice was trembling, and I knew he was scared—heck we were all scared. Getting shot at in a moving plane was not fun. My mind was racing. Who was shooting at us? And why? What was a missile doing on the back of a snowmobile?

Yes, that’s it, Natalie said. We’re not going to make it, though. Hold on, guys. Justin, get back into your seat. Put your head between your knees as well as you can. There are pillows in the emergency cabinet. Justin quick!

I grabbed the emergency cabinet door and pulled out three pillows, giving one each to Natalie and Van.

The plane landed on the hard packed snow about 50 meters from the edge of the landing strip. I had heeded Natalie’s warning and had made it back to my seat and strapped myself in just in time.

The plane lurched and bounced on the snow and soon we skidded onto the landing strip. Natalie brought the plane to a halt and shut off the engines. Miraculously the supply skids remained strapped to the walls though they had shifted a little. I unhooked my seatbelt and returned to the cockpit. Van was quiet and looked about to throw up. Natalie got out of her seat and came into the cargo hold. I need to call this in. Stay put, its cold out there. We need to stay here until another plane can rescue us. This plane isn’t going anywhere.

Van came back and sat down beside me. What the heck is going on, Justin? They were shooting at us! I thought we were going to die.

Van was normally fearless and could handle just about anything, but planes really freaked him out. I’d never seen him like this.

It’s OK, buddy. We’re here, we’re alive. Nat’s going to call in a rescue plane. I said. Nat, after you make your call, I need to call the police. About the shooting.

Natalie just nodded. She radioed to the Iqaluit tower and reported the crash landing and that we would need a replacement plane. I took over and reported what we had seen from the air and about the shooting.

The control tower dispatched a police helicopter. The replacement cargo plane would have to wait until the next day as no more were available so we would have to rely on the police helicopter to get us back to Iqaluit.

Finlay’s Cove would have to wait an extra day for supplies. It would be about half an hour to an hour before the police helicopter arrived. Just sit tight, the controller advised. Help is on the way.

It was already starting to get cold. Natalie tried to restart the engine but the fuel registered as empty. Must be a leak in the fuel tank, she muttered. Whoever was shooting at us must have shot a hole in the tank as well.

I’m going out, I said after a few minutes. See if I can find out what those men were doing with a nuclear missile.

I thought it was risky but I just couldn’t sit here and do nothing for an hour when I knew the ones responsible were getting away.

No, Justin, Natalie said, grabbing my arm. It’s too cold and besides those men—whoever they are, have guns—we know that much. It’s too dangerous.

Don’t tell him that, Van spoke up. He’ll want to go even more now.

I’ll be OK, I said. I’m not stupid. I just want to see if there are any clues to who these guys are. This might be the only chance anyone has of seeing where those men go. By the time the police arrive they could be long gone. I have to at least try.

Just then the radio crackled. Flight 608 come in, I repeat Flight 608 respond.

Natalie picked up the receiver. Yes, this is flight 608. What’s the news?

The government authorities have just issued a statement. A nuclear missile was stolen this morning from Northlands. Are you sure that’s what you saw from the air?

Yes, Natalie reported. We’re sure.

 I have Sergeant Mclean of the Canadian Army here with me; the dispatcher went on. Can you describe to him what you saw?

I’ll do it, I offered. Sergeant McLean, I’m Justin Macdonald, a volunteer with the Iqaluit food Storage facility. My father is Luke Macdonald, a private investigator in Ontario.

That’s nice, Sergeant McLean said, cutting me off. Can you describe the missile for me, Mr. Macdonald?

I gave as detailed a description of the missile as I could remember.

That sounds like the Informant, McLean muttered. Can you give us the exact location you saw this snow vehicle pulling the missile?

Natalie took over and gave the coordinates.

We’ve dispatched the police and rescue corps, McLean remarked. They should be to your position soon. I would advise you to remain where you are.

With that the radio crackled and went silent.

See, we have to stay close, Natalie replied.

I guess you’re right, I said. It was too dangerous.

An hour later there was no sign of the police helicopter. I was starting to worry. Natalie was unable to raise anyone on the radio. The signal’s being jammed somehow. I can’t explain it, she said with a shrug. But the police should have been here by now, she added.

She turned to me. Here, Justin, I know you want to go investigate. Take some granola bars and some protein powder and some milk. If you want to investigate go ahead. Van and I will stay here and wait for the police. They must have been delayed in Iqaluit for some reason. They can’t contact us the same way that we can’t get a hold of them. But they’ll be here soon.

I nodded and turned to Van. You OK to stay here with Natalie? I’m sure the two of you can find lots to talk about, I said under my breath so only Van could hear. Try again to get a date with her.

Van nodded and then gave a shiver. Y-yes, he said. I’m OK. We’re no longer in the air. And we have enough food. Nat and I will be OK. We will find lots to talk about, no worries about that.

 But come back if you learn anything. I know you’re curious—and this is probably a crazy idea—but you don’t always listen to reason, do you? You’re reckless my friend, he added. But you know that’s what I like about you—that’s why we get along so well. But please be careful. Don’t do anything dumb.

I raised my eyebrows as if to say “me? Something dumb?”

I will, I said patting his arm. Van understood me like no one else did. My natural curiosity sometimes got me into trouble but it served me well in a lot of other situations. I wasn’t reckless, I just took calculated risks. There was a difference. I only hoped this time it wasn’t too risky.

I zipped up my parka and donned my special glasses and pulled by tuque down over my ears. I opened the door and ventured out into the midday chill. I pulled a compass that Natalie had given me from my pocket, checked my heading and started walking due south.

The snow was blinding but at least the wind had died down. It was actually not too bad of a walk. My boots crunched against the snow as I walked. The featureless landscape lulled me into a sort of trance. I walked on, not feeling the cold too much. My mind was racing over the events we had experienced.

The Informant was stolen from the NMTF? That seemed incredible. How could someone steal a nuclear missile? It had to be an inside job. A serious breach of security. Heads were gonna roll over this one.

Who had taken it? And where were they going with it? Out of the country? So many questions. And absolutely no answers.

But the biggest thing I worried about now was what had happened to the police helicopter?

It was too much of a coincidence that we lose communication at the same time the police fail to show up. I didn’t believe in coincidences. Something was definitely wrong.

The man with the rifle. He had shot at us and nearly killed us. These guys were serious. I would have to tread carefully.

On I went. I checked my watch. An hour had passed. No sign of the police helicopter. I would surely have seen it pass overhead.

I travelled what I thought had been 5 kilometers. I should be coming to Mirror Bay Inlet soon.

That’s when I noticed something. Tracks in the snow. Snowmobile tracks. They had seemed to come from the west and curved around and were now heading due south. These must be the tracks the snowmobile left! I was on the right track.

It was also at this point I noticed something ahead. Something dark. In the snow about a km ahead. It looked like a vehicle. Was it the snow mobile? Had it been abandoned by the thieves. I’m sure they wouldn’t just leave it in the middle of the snow for anyone to find?

It was then that I noticed the smoke. It seemed to be rising from the vehicle ahead. I could smell it now on the slight breeze that had picked up from the south.

As I approached I could see it wasn’t a snowmobile. It was something else. Then I realized what it was.

I ran forward now, boots slipping on the ice and snow. The acrid burning smell assaulted my nostrils. I came upon the heap of metal, burning, melting the snow around it.

It was the police helicopter. It had crash landed!