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“There’s an aircraft on final,” he said. “An Ilyushin.”
It was an Ilyushin II-76, called “the Candid.” It was a large, four-engine, heavy-lift military transport, roughly equivalent to the Lockheed C-130.
The man with the Uzi pressed the muzzle of the Uzi against MacIlhenny’s neck as he leaned around him to look out the window at the approaching aircraft.
“Line up with the runway, Captain,” he ordered, “and the moment he touches down begin your takeoff roll.”
“Line up now or after he touches down?”
“Now,” the man with the Uzi said and jabbed MacIlhenny with the muzzle of the Uzi.
MacIlhenny released the brakes and nudged the throttles.
“LA-9021, ground control,” the radio went off. The voice sounded alarmed.
The man with the Uzi jerked MacIlhenny’s headset from his head.
MacIlhenny lined up 9021 with the runway and stopped.
A moment later the Ilyushin flashed over, so close that the 727 moved. It touched down about halfway down the runway.
The Uzi muzzle prodded MacIlhenny under the ear.
He understood the message, released the brakes, and shoved the throttles forward.
My options right now are to pull the gear, which will mean I will have my brains blown all over the cockpit a full twenty seconds before the gear retracts. Or I can do what I’m told and maybe, just maybe, stay alive.
“Will you call out the airspeed, please?” MacIlhenny asked, politely.
“Eighty,” the copilot said a moment later.
Unless that Ilyushin gets his tail off the runway, I’m going to clip it.
“Ninety.
“One-ten.
“One-twenty.”
“Rotate,” MacIlhenny said and pulled back on the yoke.
“What you will do now, Captain,” the man with the Uzi said, “is level off at two-five hundred feet on this course.”
"That’s going to eat a lot of fuel,” MacIlhenny said.
“Yes, I know. What I want to do is fall off their radar. The lower we fly, the sooner that will happen.”
MacIlhenny nodded his understanding.
Five minutes later, the man with the Uzi ordered, “Maintaining this flight level, steer zero-two-zero.”
“Zero-two-zero,” MacIlhenny repeated and began a gentle turn to that heading.
That will take me over the ex-Belgian Congo. I wonder what that means?
Ten minutes after that, the man with the Uzi said, “Ascend to flight level two-five thousand, and turn to zero-one- five.”
“Course zero-one-five,” MacIlhenny repeated. “Beginning climb to flight level two-five thousand now.”
