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Hiding in the car deck wasn’t an option. They’d be spotted at first light. Juan led Eddie and Linc into the port passenger area, while MacD and Linda went starboard.
Surprisingly, the seats were all still in place, as if the vessel were ready for another run across the English Channel. A center aisle split three-abreast seats on either side. Together, the passenger cabins had room for four hundred people, plus toilets and galleys.
“It’s still a few hours till dawn,” Linc said. “Might as well get some shut-eye.”
Sleep being a precious commodity, they each took a seat far from the windows and dozed off, knowing that the Oregon would warn them if someone boarded the craft.
Juan woke when he heard Hali in his ear. He blinked as sunlight streamed through the glass.
“Chairman, there’s an SUV coming toward the Marsh Flyer.”
“Understood,” Juan answered. “Everyone to your hiding spots.”
Eddie and Linc squeezed into the galley together while Juan closed himself in the port toilet. MacD and Linda would be doing the same on the other side. They reasoned that no one on the transport would be using the facilities for such a short trip.
The lack of odor in the bathroom confirmed that it hadn’t been used recently. Juan donned his augmented reality glasses and switched them on, showing him views from the two wireless cameras he had hastily attached to the exterior of the cockpit on the way in.
He could see the SUV park at the edge of the tarmac. A man got out and walked toward the Marsh Flyer with a powerful gait. It was Bob Parsons, dressed in a flight suit and mirrored sunglasses. He gestured to the guard and kept going.
“Parsons and the three guards are all getting on,” Hali said.
A few minutes later, Juan felt the engines start up, and the propellers began to spin.
“We’ll lose radio contact with you once you cross the bay,” Hali said.
“I’ve got my sat phone in case we need you to send in the cavalry,” Juan said.
“Max says, ‘Happy hunting.’”
“See you soon.”
The propellers came up to full speed, and the hovercraft lifted up atop the cushion of air filling its rubber skirt. The Marsh Flyer rotated until it faced the shore before accelerating off the concrete and onto the water.
Within moments, the hovercraft was racing across the bay, a white mist of seawater billowing behind them. Ten minutes later, it completed the bay crossing and reached the vast swamp of Arnhem Land, slowing to half speed as it approached the greenery.
The thick grasses and reeds of the marsh would have fouled any boat trying to navigate through, and no wheeled vehicle would have made it a hundred feet from the coast. But the Marsh Flyer floated across the muddy bog as if it were the smoothest asphalt. Low trees dotted the landscape to either side, but there was a wide-open swath cut through them.
The ocean was far behind them when Juan finally spotted a large white building in the distance. It was two stories tall with what looked like sophisticated air-handling units on its roof.
“The factory is up ahead,” Juan told the rest of the team.
“Is it okay to come out?” MacD asked.
“Let’s wait to see if anyone comes into the passenger areas. If they do a search, be ready to fight.”
As they got closer, Juan could now see the vehicles he’d spotted on the satellite image. Parked on the tarmac were a couple more trucks like the ones on the car deck. Next to them were half a dozen four-person hovercraft likely used for patrols or for carrying personnel back to Nhulunbuy.
Behind all of them was a helicopter, a Bell JetRanger, the kind used for sightseeing trips.
Juan saw a group of men waiting for them on the apron, all wearing uniforms and caps, many heavily armed.
“We’ve got a lot of potential hostiles out there,” Juan said. “I count at least twenty, and they’re packing assault rifles by the look of it.”
“Must be something important inside,” Eddie said.
The hovercraft came to rest on the tarmac, and the engines powered down. A
small tractor trundled toward the hovercraft with a metal ramp to attach to the stern, and the clamshell doors swung open for unloading the trucks.
