The Road To (Outer) Nowhere (Space)

Chapter 20: Fly Baby, Fly

The next morning, they checked out of the hotel around 7. They got into the BMW and left the hotel's garage, as MeXico started:
- Ok man, so we gotta drive to Wakefield, just Northwest of Ottawa. I'm gonna fetch the car I ordered for us to get to Fort Simpson.
- Fort Simpson? How far is that?
- Well, it's near Yellowknife. In the Yukon!
- Fuck... That's far... And why to we have to go to Congo?
- We need to transport some dangerous, illegal merchandise.
- It had to be that hey, it couldn't be, let's say, kitchen furniture...
- Don't play, it's going to be quite risky. He have to transport 50 kg of promethium-147. And about a liter of box jellyfish toxins.
- Holy fucking shit man. Are you fucking insane? Promethium is the most dangerous and radioactive material in the world. It can contaminate thousands of square miles.
- I never said it was going to be a easy choice my friend. You can say no right now...
- And the toxin?
- The box jellyfish is the most venomous animal in the world. It's toxin is fucking deadly. It's a neurotoxin that can kill a man in 10 minutes.
- Great, just great! And to witch secret service are we delivering that shit to? You do know I'm a fugitive...
- We are delivering the stuff to a warlord in Congo...
- Ok, enough. Spare-me the rest. You said the plane was a Gulfstream 550?
- Right!
- The range of that plane is about 12000 Km. But I think we should stop about three times. One in St. Pierre, just before we leave this continent, and one in Morroco. Have you sorted out all the paperwork?
- Yeah, it would be something of the sort. But no more that 2 stops. There is no paperwork. We will fly undercover.
- You know that's fucking risky, right?
- Yep! And besides, I'm flying with a rocket scientist so there should be no problem at all... We will cross that bridge when we get there. I only plan a couple of minutes ahead. It's kept me safe until now! - Said MeXico laughing.
Jack lit a Camel and smoked calmly. MeXico raised the sound on the stereo and they drove along the icy roads of Canada.



The landscape was dull. Miles and miles of white wasteland. Occasionally they would go past a small town or some cultivated land.
Three hours into the journey Jack saw a black SUV with tinted windows that had been following them for some time.
- Have you seen the SUV behind us?
MeXico lifted his eyes to the review mirror.
- Yeah, don't think it's any problem. I'll slow down and they will overtake us.
MeXico slowed down, but so did the SUV.
- Fuck! - He accelerated as fast as he could.
- Oh boy!
The pursuit lasted for miles and miles. When the SUV gained some terrain, MeXico would manage to get away, until the SUV hit their tail, and tilted the BMW. MeXico, turned the wheel the opposite way, but it was useless, the ice on the road didn't allow the car to grip, so it rolled over several times and landed on the snow between two trees.. Jack flew out of the car, and hit the snow. His last vision was of five suited agents getting out of the SUV.
Moments after he opened his eyes. He saw MeXico hand cuffed and beaten up. He was on his knees, held at gunpoint.
- Where the fuck is Mohammed? We know you had a meeting with him in Somalia around 2001. Just before he went a wall.
MeXico looked up, spat the blood from his mouth onto the white cold snowy floor.
- Bite-me asshole.
One of the agents kicked him in the face, he fell over on the snow, immediately staining it with blood.
- You, pick him up, take him to headquarters, make sure he speaks.
- What about that other guy he came with?
- Place a bullet in his skull. And clean up this mess afterwords.
Jack saw one agent approaching and unbuckling the gun vest. Took the safety off, and before he pulled the trigger, Jack kicked his feet, making him fall to the ground. When Jack grabbed the gun, it was cold, a strange feeling when through his body, just before he took down all the agents. He got up, ran to MeXico, who was now coming back to his senses.
- MeXico, are you OK man?
- Fuck, we gotta get going. Get the stuff from the BMW.
- How are we going to get to Wakefield?
- You're driving until further notice. We take the SUV.
While Jack gathered their belongings from the accident site, and from the car, MeXico searched the agents.
- Let's go!
They got into the SUV. MeXico was patching up his wounds in the back seats, while Jack drove quite fast.
- Who the fuck were those agents?
- Interpol and C.I.A. task force.
- And I thought I was a fugitive. This is getting bigger and bigger.Who the fuck is Mohammed?
- Just drive.
Finally they got to the car dealer in Wakefield. Jack left MeXico and dished the SUV. MeXico bought a black 1984, 5.2 liter Dodge Ram. It had been altered for extreme conditions with thickened windows, bigger tires and special coolant for the radiator. It would be around 20 degrees below zero.
They took all their stuff and threw it into the trunk. MeXico paid for the truck, and they were off.
- We are late!
- We have to take turns driving, so if you need to rest, better do it now.
- Are you OK to drive?
- Trust me Jack, I've been worse. Thanks for the quick thinking back there.
- No problem!
Jack smoked a Camel, and fell asleep. When he woke up, he saw that Jack was in pain. His left cheek had swollen quite a lot.
- Paul, your face.
MeXico laughed, and lit a cigarette.
- Jack, pain is real, it makes me feel alive!
- Here, I'll take the wheel.
They swapped at the next petrol station. Filled some Jerry cans with petrol because, from there onwards they would not find any signs of civilization until Fort Simpson.
Hours after they were cruising the ice roads of Canada.
- Watch out, these roads or on top of water. Every year, hundreds of trucks sink in them. And that is all we needed now! Although this truck is prepared for this type of terrain, just be careful.
- OK, nothing's gonna happen, man. Just rest. This is one fucking nice truck. It's a cool ride!
Jack drove for miles and miles on a narrow straight ice road. He could feel the ice shifting sometimes. The Dodge would occasionally skid out of the road into the soft ice, but he easily managed to bring it back to the road.  Time didn't seem to go by. There was no night up there. Only the perpetual dawn...
Fifteen hours after they left Wakefield, MeXico turned into Fort Simpson. It was a small airfield, belonging to the army. The main building had a guard at the entrance.
- OK, this will take about an hour. See you now.
While MeXico entered the building, Jack took the spare time to find some inner piece. He walked to the nearby lake, and stood there gazing at the auroras.

 He walked back to the airfield thinking about the journey ahead. More than ever, he though it was going to be impossible to achieve his final goal.
MeXico was waiting for him next to the plane. It was a brand new one. The only odd aspect was a huge antenna on the tail wing and the black mat color the whole plane was painted in. They climbed aboard. Jack started immediately running safety checks. He was quite the pilot. Minutes later they where on the runway, while Paul communicated with the tower.
- This is Mike, Sierra, Charlie, 815, requesting permission to takeoff.
- Mike, Sierra; Mike Sierra, you are clear for takeoff. Pay attention to ice on the runway, over.
- Mike, Sierra to tower, acknowledged info. Starting radio silence.
A different voice came on the radio, a french accent filled the radio waves:
- Safe journey MeXico, godspeed!
- Pierre?
After the strange transmission, the tower did not respond to any radio signal. Jack suggested they took off. MeXico consented. Jack pulled back the lever slowly but steadily. He felt the usual tickling toes, and a mild shiver down his spine, like he always felt as he was leaving ground behind.
The plane was quite hard to maintain steady because of the crosswinds and the ice, but Jack held it in place. It was 4:23 a.m. when the tires of the plane detached from the runway. He was one step closer!