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Even though the waterpark had been crowded, the outer section of the vast parking lot was free of cars, leaving room for their ride to land. As they reached the edge of the cars, Eddie heard the sound of rotors approaching. He looked up to see a sleek tiltrotor aircraft swooping toward them.
The AgustaWestland AW609 was a huge upgrade from the Corporation’s MD520N helicopter, which had been destroyed when the previous Oregon sank. The tiltrotor had a range of more than eight hundred miles and could cruise at three hundred miles per hour while carrying a complement of ten passengers and crew. Now Eddie was glad they’d sprung for the more capable aircraft. There was no way they could have stretched out an injured man in the chopper.
The tiltrotor looked like any normal twin-engine private plane except the engines were situated on the ends of the wings to power the huge propellers. As it switched to hover mode, the engines turned vertically so that the propellers pointed straight up. The AW settled to the asphalt, the noise of its prop wash deafening.
The moment the tires touched down, Linc pushed the cart forward, and they all followed. Clamshell doors on the fuselage opened, with a short staircase on the bottom half.
A woman wearing green scrubs, her brown hair in a ponytail, hurried down the steps carrying a lightweight backboard. Normally, Julia Huxley had a gentle demeanor and soothing bedside manner that belied her experience as a trauma surgeon and chief medical officer at San Diego Naval Base. But right now she was all business as she zeroed in on her incoming patients.
She took a quick glance at Raven, who simply waved her off.
“Don’t worry about me,” Raven said. “We’ll go find MacD a shirt.” The Ranger smirked at her as he escorted her to the waiting helicopter.
Julia turned her focus on Muñoz, inspecting his torso before covering it with gauze.
“It’s risky, but we’ll have to move him,” she said to Eddie. “He might not make it back to a hospital in Denpasar. The Oregon is closer. I’ll stabilize him there.”
The ship’s infirmary, with an operating suite and a variety of diagnostic tools, was as well equipped as a big city hospital, and she and her staff could conduct any surgeries that didn’t require a specialist.
They shifted Muñoz over to the backboard, and Eddie and Linc carefully lifted him through the door into the tiltrotor’s passenger compartment. Once everyone was packed inside and buckled in, Eddie closed the door and went into the cockpit. He took a seat in the copilot’s chair, strapping himself in with the four-point harness and donning a headset.
“Welcome aboard,” George “Gomez” Adams said without looking away from his control panel. “Wish your first ride on the A-dub was under better circumstances.”
Gomez, a strikingly handsome man with vivid green eyes and a handlebar mustache, came by his nickname because of a long-ago dalliance with a woman who looked just like Morticia from The Addams Family. The ace pilot was cocky about his flying abilities, but the self-assurance was well deserved.
“Me, too,” Eddie said. “Doc says to get Muñoz to the Oregon. Let’s go home.”
Gomez increased the throttle, and the helicopter lifted into the sky as if it were borne aloft by a cloud. As he transitioned the tiltrotor to horizontal flight, the aircraft accelerated forward and gained altitude.
“This will be a quick trip,” he said to Eddie. “Next time, I’ll give you the full aerobatic demonstration. We’ve even got a hoist that we can attach for water rescues.”
They banked away from the waterpark and out to sea. The stern of the Oregon came into view as it was rounding the nearest island. From this height, Eddie could see the landing pad between the two pairs of cranes amidships. It was marked by an H with a circle around it.
“You can fit this thing there?” Eddie asked, amazed at the tiny target where they’d be setting down.
“With room to spare,” Gomez replied. “And the hangar below deck has enough space to do any maintenance work that’s required.”
The pad was designed to descend into the ship, after which it was covered by an identical pad that slid across the deck to conceal it.
Halfway to the Oregon, Hali called over the radio. Eddie didn’t like the sound of his urgent tone.
“Gomez,” Hali said, “we’ve detected two incoming aircraft closing at a high rate of speed.”
“The terrorists have planes now?” Gomez said.
“No, they’re Indonesian Air Force F-16s. They think you’re the jihadists fleeing the scene of the crime.”
“Call them off. We’ve got kids aboard.”
“I’m trying, but they’re not responding to my hails.”
; “Those idiots. Our IFF transponder is broadcasting as friendly.”
“They don’t seem to care. The police reported seeing an unknown aircraft taking off from the terrorist event, and you fit the description.” Hali paused and then called out, “Oh, no. Take evasive action.”
Gomez responded instantly, sending the helo into a dive. “What’s happening?”
