Max Helms: Curse of the Relic (Max Helms - Private Investigator Book 1) by Walter Hammett Page A

up. As usual, it appeared Tony was running late. They should have been on the ground by now. He hoped they would land shortly and he could reach them before the tribe made a shish kebab out of him. As the plane passed overhead, he picked up his pace.
    *               *              *
    Tony knew that his tardiness could cost Don his life. He had been flying planes for over 10 years, but was rarely on time. That’s what had cost him his job with American Airlines and brought him into Mr. Heinrich’s employ.
    He looked at the thick jungle below and thought there couldn’t possibly be a clearing big enough to land the plane. Suddenly, his face was surrounded by cigar smoke. He looked over and saw Charlie puffing a cigar while studying the map. Charlie looked up, smiled and said, “OK. According to the map, the landing field should be off to right.”
    Tony veered the plane to the right. He didn’t see any sign of a clearing anywhere, but he knew Charlie wouldn’t steer him wrong. He was an expert cartographer after all. After a few seconds he heard Charlie scream excitedly, “Look! There it is!”
    “ Swell!” Tony exclaimed. “Lemme just circle around so we can land this baby into the wind.”
    As the plane descended, Tony noticed Don running through the trees with a large angry mob not far behind him. He thought that for an old guy, Don ran pretty fast. He hoped he could get on the ground before the mob caught up to Don. He lowered the landing gear and made a rather bumpy, yet successful landing.
    *               *              *
    Don could see the plane as it landed in the clearing ahead. Every inch of his body ached and demanded rest. But he knew that would be the end of him.
    He emerged fr om the jungle into the clearing. The plane had just stopped moving about 100 yards ahead of him. He started yelling for Tony to start the plane and get moving. He hoped that Tony would hear him in time to get the plane off the ground.
    *               *              *
    Tony sat quietly in his pilot ’s chair, quite impressed with the landing he’d just pulled off. Then something caught his eye off in the distance. “There’s Don just to our left!” he yelled excitedly. “He’s got quite a few friends with him.”
    Charlie jump ed out of his seat and looked out the window. A look of shock came over his face as he saw Don and friends. “Holy cow!” he yelled in a high-pitched, comical voice. “Get this crate moving! I’m going aft and see if I can’t give him a hand!”
    Tony start ed up the plane. He saw Charlie release his pistol from his shoulder holster and head into the back.
    *               *              *
    The plane start ed up and began to move as Don approached it. He let out a labored sigh of relief.
    The door open ed and Charlie stuck his head out. He reached out his arm to help Don in. An arrow hit the side of the plane near the door, in between Charlie and Don. Charlie leaned back, pulled his pistol from its holster, and took aim. “Eat lead, you eggs!” he shouted as he fired off several rounds.
    Don grab bed the frame of the door, glanced over his shoulder and saw one of the tribe drop to the ground. The rest of the tribe stopped in their tracks. He jumped halfway into the plane on his belly and squirmed through the door. Charlie grabbed him by the back of his shirt and pulled him in with one hand while he clutched the pistol in the other. Charlie looked towards the cabin and yelled, “Tony! Let’s scram!”
    The plane pick ed up speed and began its ascent from the jungle floor. Don caught his breath while Charlie closed the door. Tony’s voice came over the intercom: “You fellas all right back there?”
    Charlie reache d over and grabbed the intercom on the wall next to Don. “Sure, Tony!” he exclaimed. “We’re good!”
    Don c ould barely keep his eyes open. His heart raced so much it