Free The Fine Line of Revenge by Martin Cox

a rental, are you Carlos Sabino?’ Jack asked in English.
    ‘I am Senhor Sabino,’ he replied, rubbing his hand on his overalls and outstretching it at Jack.  ‘English hand shake, pleased to meet you, you are David, er?’ the man thought for a moment. ‘Jenkins, yes, I have good memory for names, but I have some bad news Senhor Jenkins for you, my pilot is sick today.’
    ‘Is there anyway you could take us?’ Anjo asked, sombrely.
    ‘I am sorry, Senhorita, I am very busy today.’
    Jack reached into the inside of his jacket.  His hand returned with a wedge of money.
    ‘Fifteen thousand Reais, if we can borrow a helicopter for one hour? I am a qualified pilot,’ Jack offered, waving the chunk of notes in temptation.  The man’s eyes widened.
    ‘For one hour, ok, but you will have to use the black one at the end. It has just had a re-spray, there are no markings on her.’
    ‘Excellent,’ Jack said, eagerly placing the rest of his money back in his trousers, no markings was perfect for what they needed.
    ‘I will fuel it up for you,’ Carlos said, sliding the money from Jack’s fingers.  He flicked through it, a glowing smile on his face.
     
    Carlos raised his thumb to Jack and Anjo as they sat in the cockpit of the Jet Ranger.  It had been shut off for some time and all dials were dead cold.  Jack undid the top two buttons of his light, blue shirt and instigated the proceedings.  He turned on the electrics and the avionic switch, checking the fuel level.  Jack was pleased Senhor Sabino had not scrimped on the fuel. It was full.  With the fuel valve and navigation lights turned on, Jack drew his attention to the rotor rpm whilst checking his communication and navigation.
    ‘Well, let’s hope I remember how to fly one of these, it’s been a while,’ Jack said, looking at the numerous dials.  With a look of concern on her face Anjo closed her eyes and made the sign of the cross on her body.  Jack noticed her movements.
    ‘Don’t worry, you never forget, it’s like riding a bike. Just a little bit more complicated and if you do make a mistake, it’s a lot longer till you hit the ground,’ Jack smiled, now noticing the rotors rpm had reached one hundred percent.
    ‘Well, here we go,’ Jack shouted, grabbing the collective and the cyclic tightly, coordinating the controls with immediate dexterity.  The skids straightened as the weight of the Ranger left the ground.  Jack turned to Anjo and smiled.
     
    Once airborne, the airfield was just a speck in the distance.  Jack headed towards the coast where they would follow its line up to Sperafico’s private residence.
    ‘Take the camera out of that bag,’ Jack said, gesturing towards the black holdall behind them. As the shoreline rushed beneath them, Jack increased altitude as they came closer.
    ‘I’ll fly by and then circle back round, you get ready with the camera,’ Jack announced, competing with the sound of the rotor blades.
    ‘I’m frightened I might break it, it’s quite heavy.’
    ‘It works just like a normal camera. But you’ll be amazed at the images.’
    The old fort was indeed close to the waters edge.  Its vast structure spread into the dense tree line.  They could both see the layout of the three buildings, but the camera’s zoom couldn’t quite pick up the entrances.
    ‘We need to get closer,’ Anjo suggested.  Jack nodded and manoeuvred the Ranger into a banked descent.  The buildings became clearer.  Anjo sat, bent forward, constantly taking pictures of the entrances and the routes into, what they could now see as, a sealed compound.  Jack then noticed movement on the ground.  A man in a khaki uniform ran from a small building near the entrance.  He could see that the man was carrying something large and cylindrical. He placed it on to his shoulder and stared in the direction of their helicopter.
    ‘Hold on to something,’ exclaimed Jack opening the throttle, dropping the nose and heading for the