''The Land Beyond Time'' Adventure in the Amazon: An Al Ranlom Action Adventure Novel

By Alexander Molnar Jr

The Land Beyond Time is a non-stop, fast paced, action packed adventure that takes place in the jungles of the Amazon River. It is a story about traitors, sabotage, espionage, greed, hate, love and romance, cold blooded murder, and justice.

It is the story about the trials and tribulations of a dozen human beings whos sabotaged aircraft crashes into the Amazon jungle. The crash survivors, 6 men and 6 women, including 2 drug cartel bosses, being extradited to the US, now must compete against their individual fears, each other and those unknown unexplained challenges facing them in the hot, wet, dangerous jungle.

The terrifying but strange animals that abound there, like the giant spiders, boars, anacondas, and crocodiles; two hostile tribes and the headhunters; a Colombian drug cartel group of professional killers coming to rescue their bosses; and a small, but elite team of US Marines conducting search and rescue operations for the crash survivors; all are tossed together in the jungles of the Amazon.

Our adventure begins during December 1999, in Lima, Peru, when a US military aircraft (C141) preparing to take a number of government passengers back to the US, is commandeered by an Embassy official. He orders the aircraft to take on10 additional passengers, including two recently captured Colombian drug lords being extradited to the US. Hours into the flight the plane is sabotaged by someone onboard and it crashes into the Amazon River dumping the survivors into the hostile terrain north of Manaus, Brazil.

Two of the 12 crash survivors are immediately separated from the main group and have adventures of their own to contend just to remain alive. The remaining survivors are captured by one of two hostile tribes (the Ingou and Sangou). The survivors are taken to the Ingou village and interrogated, while second tribe prepares to attack the Ingou village to pre-empt an escaped prisoners arrival there, who possesses information which could change the delicate balance of power in the jungle.

Back in Peru, an Embassy official is fingered as an espionage agent for the major drug cartel. The official gets nervous and runs to his new bosses in Colombia. Meanwhile, the cartel sends 24 professional killers to retrieve their two drug bosses from the sabotaged aircraft. Their additional instructions are to eliminate all the remaining passengers. When the aircraft fails to show up at Manaus as planned, the cartels killers immediately begin a search pattern, and within hours of finding the crashed aircraft, their journey begins.

Back in Lima, the Non-Commissioned Officer in Charge (NCOIC) of the Marine Security Guard (MSG) Detachment, a friend of Al Ranlom, a former Marine who is aboard the missing aircraft, hears of the espionage and the plane crash. Not one to stand by and watch, the NCOIC forms an unofficial search and rescue team, which picks up the trail of the missing craft and her survivors.

The dangers to all involved: the survivors, the cartels professional killers and the Marine Security Detachment rescuers, are found in every turn they take. They are all around them, in the trees, at ground level, on, under and above the waterways, swamps and mangroves. These hazards eat away at their self confidence, and tears at their moral fabric. They are tested continuously, passing one test only to encounter another challenge. If it isnt attacks by giant spiders, anacondas, and crocodiles, its tigers, flesh eating worms and blood sucking bats. Or its problems from hostile tribes or from the natural environment, like earthquakes and lava flows or from the failure of their sophisticated equipment, like the GPS systems, radios, and walkie-talkie

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: May 19, 2000
• ISBN: 9781462810802

Alexander Molnar Jr

Al Molnar is currently the Senior Intelligence Analyst at the Naval Oceanographic Office in Stennis Space Center, Ms. He spent over 20 years in the military, retiring in 1987 as a CWO. He has one best-selling novel currently in bookstores, Mission Hong Kong: 1944-1945. He holds Two Purple Hearts, and 47 other medals, citations and commendations. He currently resides in Diamondhead, Ms.

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"THE LAND

BEYOND TIME"

An Adventure in the Amazon

Alexander Molnar Jr.

An Al Ranlom Action Adventure

Copyright © 1999 by Alexander Molnar Jr..

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-7-XLIBRIS

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

Contents

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

PREFACE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

This book is dedicated to my family:

Mom and Dad (may he rest in peace),

my brother and his wife (Paul and Cookie),

and my sister, her husband and son (Annette, Joe and Joseph Alexander).

Also to my special friends worldwide and to my co-workers

and friends at the Naval Oceanographic Office, for all their support.

OTHER AL RANLOM ACTION ADVENTURES

BY ALEXANDER MOLNAR JR:

MISSION: HONG KONG 1944-1945

MISSION: ALPINE REDOUBT

CONTRIBUTING AUTHOR (NON-FICTION)

WORLD WAR II IN EUROPE: AN ENCYCLOPEDIA

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

This is an Al Ranlom Action Adventure series novel set in the year 1999. I want to thank the following people: my brother and his wife for putting forth the idea, reviewing the first draft, and for their constructive criticism; John Daniel for reviewing the first draft; my mother for her review of the first draft and her constructive criticism; my long-time US Army friend, Dick Mills for his advice, review and criticism of the first draft; and my friend and editor, Christine M. Jarrett, for her review of the drafts, criticism, and editing of the entire project; and to Rhonda and her daughter, Cecily for their reviews, ideas, artwork and constructive criticism.

PREFACE

(1975-ON THE AMAZON RIVER)

John grabbed the starter rope, yanking hard trying to restart the engine. Praying that it would kick back in. Cathy, his wife, watched, with the rifle she held aimed at the nearest riverbank. The local natives were there, watching and waiting. They had already tried to capture the houseboat twice today. Cathy glanced over the rifle barrel, back to where her husband was crouched with still no success on the engine. Cathy was tired and wet and exhausted, she was almost due, her belly swollen beyond all normal shape. She hated the thought of bringing the little one into this hate-filled world. Especially now, with the native troubles they had been encountering. There was a kick in her belly. Gently, she laid her hand over the kicking and rubbed it slowly, with love and care.

John quickly looked over at his wife, smiled to himself, and tried harder to get that piece of trash of an engine running. They needed to place some distance between the shoreline and the boat. He leaned over the engine and pulled on the rope, this time the engine kicked over, it started, bucked, belched and smoked, caught, then backfired and quit.

Damn, this piece of garbage. If it were a man I’d rip out its heart. Honey, are you alright?

Yes dear, fine, except for some more pain.

As John got to his feet, a large wicked arrow zipped past his ear, imbedding itself into the wall of the wheelhouse. Thunk. John whirled around as another arrow made contact nearby. John yelled, Cathy get down behind the water barrels! John crawled along the edge of the houseboat toward his wife’s position. The deck was wet, the rain still falling, and the arrows still finding their houseboat. He peeked around the corner and saw Cathy kneeling behind the wooden barrel with two long arrows imbedded in its side, still quivering. John shook his head. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. He brought his wife to this beautiful jungle, one of the last bastions of wilderness, jungle and wildlife, for research two years ago. They were both doctors, and both wanted to save the world from itself. They were bitten by the environmental bug and bought this houseboat, equipped it with a full lab, a generator and a guide. Another arrow sank into the bulkhead just over his head, bringing his thoughts back to reality. He quickly called out to his wife, Cathy shoot a couple of rounds into the forest just over by that huge tree, the one with the flowers and limbs hanging way out over the water.

Ok, I see it. With that Cathy fired five rounds into the edge of the forest, immediately to the right and left of the tree’s trunk. Something screamed from the jungle. Good Cathy thought, I hit something. John finally made it to the barrel, and grabbed the second rifle, checking the magazine and slamming it home. He yanked back on the operating rod and let it go.

John, we’re getting closer to the shoreline. I can see the natives off to the right of that tree. The currents must have us and are driving us into them.

Shit, I’d better get back to the engine and get it going!

I’ll be alright, you better hurry. I’ll hold them off. But hurry it up.

John scampered along the far deck and made it back to the engine. He moved quickly over to the engine and pulled the rope …once, twice and then again. The last time did the trick and the engine turned over. He ran back up to the wheelhouse and hit the engage gear, then threw the engine into reverse. The boat started backing away from the riverbank and the hostile natives who now showed themselves. A few more arrows zinged toward the boat, but fell short of their targets. Now in mid river, John felt a little more at ease. He grabbed the rope he had used as auto-pilot and tied it to the steering wheel spoke. He checked the river, in all directions, nothing. He saw just the river, rain and them. Just like how he had wanted it when they got here two years ago. They had the grants and the time, and most of all the love of the jungle and it’s hidden secrets. Somehow, about nine months ago, one of those damn rubbers must have had a hole in it, because now, Cathy was pregnant. Together they had decided to leave the deep remote jungle for the nearest civilized area, the port village of Manaus, Brazil. They had a hospital and the proper drugs, should complications develop during childbirth. Now, with the damn engine cutting out five or more times a day, they might not reach the village in time.

Cathy came waddling toward him, angling her belly through the narrow doorway into the wheelhouse. She moved up alongside him, running her hands over his shoulders and smiling. She leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed, Another day in the Amazon.

John smiled and turned around, bumping up against her swollen stomach, which he reached out with both hands, rubbing and sliding down toward her hips. She felt huge, but sexy at the same time. Damn, his mind. Here we were about to run aground in the Amazon jungles, get shot by poisoned arrows, maybe chopped up for supper and all he could think about was pulling up Cathy’s short, loose dress and getting some. Conventional sex was out, so he knelt down in front of her, nuzzling his face against her belly, working her dress up over the swollen flesh. His tongue licked a trail toward her bellybutton, then down toward that beautiful junction Cathy caught her breath, as John’s tongue moved closer and closer to her. Suddenly she screamed, John, quick, reverse the engine!

John whipped his head up over the bulkhead, and saw the edge of the river appeared to have stopped. He didn’t remember anything like this on their way upriver. Then it hit him, maybe they were lost. He could have taken a wrong turn somewhere, while the natives chased them. Suddenly, it dawned on him why the river just ended. He shivered. A loud constant noise filled the air, along with a fine mist.

Shit, Cathy, grab hold of something.

Suddenly the houseboat bucked, the front end dipping like a sinking stone into a lake, the rear end standing on its end then the bottom seemed to fall out of the sky. Cathy grabbed for the door handle, but the boat lurched and dropped, her feet going out from under her. She saw her belly moving toward the door, so she twisted her body, allowing her hip to take the brunt of the fall. Then she was thrown backward, her back slamming into the back wall of the wheelhouse. She saw everything in slow motion, John was hanging onto the wheel, his knees coming toward her…she screamed just as he was about to hit her.

Just as abruptly as the boat dropped, it stopped. Sinking into the pool of water, then bouncing back to the surface, right side up. Cathy was lying on the floor, her side bruised and beat up, but her baby was still kicking harder, now that she thought about it. Then the vomiting started, the dry heaves, the churning stomach, the pain and the cramps. She screamed, and yelled for her husband, John, it’s coming, hurry! Please help me.

John thought he heard someone yelling, screaming really, for him, but he couldn’t quite figure it out. He saw blood and then he surfaced to the real world. It was Cathy and she was screaming for help with the baby, it was coming now. He launched himself forward toward Cathy. He got there in time to see this bundle of a bloody mess come sliding across the bridge toward him, get hung up and bounce back toward Cathy’s open legs. John grabbed for the baby and picked it up gently, now that the riverboat had settled down, he pulled his knife from its scabbard and cut the cord, tying it off, near the baby’s belly and cleared the light membrane away from his mouth and nose. Suddenly the baby began to squeal and cry, its’ little fingers grabbing at nothing, its’ legs bouncing up and down. He cradled the baby, and moved over to his fallen wife. She was smiling now that the pain was gone. Her eyes were glazed over. John called to her, Cathy lifted her eyes to his, as he lowered the baby into her arms. Her lips opened and she kissed the baby on the top of its’ head, then coughed and spit up blood. John saw that Cathy was still bleeding and went into a panic. He laid the baby aside and went to work, the doctor in him taking charge. When he was finished, Cathy was lying on the floor with the baby in the crook of her arm, her breathing shallow, but steady. John knew she and the baby were going to be fine. He wasn’t so sure about the boat though, it seemed to be listing to the starboard (right) and through all the screams, the pounding on the roof didn’t register till now. It sounded like a giant was hammering on the roof.

Cathy whispered, John…it will be fine. John watched as she uncovered her breast, freeing the nipple for the baby.

John shifted and stood up, trying to get the kink out of his back, looking out the wheelhouse windows, to see where they were and why the boat was listing. Fear gripped his stomach, as he stood watching, the river narrowed to about 50 feet, and on both banks were about 100 natives, all with their bows drawn, poisoned arrows ready to fly. The banks were quite high, sheer rock, no real way to climb down or up either. He popped open the door to the wheelhouse and looked outside, the engine was still going, in reverse, which was just as well, as it was keeping them steady, right under the falls, the pounding on the roof was from the waterfall. The wheelhouse was getting hammered, and the water was running down the decks and filling the empty water barrels on the right side, hence the list, or so he thought. He moved out from under the torrent of water and made his way to the foredeck, checking on the weapons, finding none, but the two rifles in the wheel- house. The natives were getting closer, now that he could see them clearly, they were moving up both flanking riverbanks toward the boat. The river was no more than 150 feet wide where they were and their arrows were accurate at twice that distance. Shit! Suddenly a volley of arrows were launched toward him…He dove for the wheel house and made it just as the first arrows impacted on the deck. He moved to the stairwell, glancing over at Cathy and their son, both appeared to be content. So he dropped down the ladder, to get more ammo and stepped into about 2 feet of water. Dammit to hell, we’re sinking!

He grabbed some clothing for Cathy and the baby and their pre-packed backpacks, which they used on any jungle exploration. Each pack contained a full set of clothing for each of them, a folding rifle, a box of ammo, a handgun with four magazines, a knife, axe, some flint, waterproof matches, a couple of canteens, a hammock and sleeping bag, first aid kits, and dried food. He threw them up the ladder and laid them out next to the wheelhouse door. He quickly looked out the windows to see how far away the natives were, and he winced. They had closed the distance to only a few hundred feet, at most. He moved over to Cathy and the baby, Cathy, darling, we have to move now, the boat is sinking and the natives are almost here. Come on now…get up…I’ll help you. Can your legs handle it? That’s a girl. Now take the baby, here, that’s it…Cathy I want you to be ready to move the second I get back here for you…I’m going to find out what’s under this waterfall.

John turned to go, but Cathy called after him, John, I love you, take care, remember our son loves you, too! John moved out of the wheelhouse carrying both packs and one of the two rifles left in the wheelhouse. Once outside the wheelhouse and about 5 paces to the rear of the boat, he saw a wide, open area, sort of like a cavern. He walked to the rear of the boat and saw that about 15 feet from them was the back wall of the waterfall. There appeared to be a shelf of some type, about 5 feet above the deck. He quickly ran forward and ducked the heavy pounding water, yanked open the wheelhouse door and slid to a stop, smiling at Cathy, telling her what he found. Quickly he threw the throttle fully into reverse and felt the boat shift slightly, then move backward, then bump. He left the engine whining, and grabbed Cathy and the baby, slipping her rifle over his other shoulder, picking up her pack leading them to the rear of the boat. Once at the back of the boat,

Cathy could see the rock ledge, and with considerable effort, climbed the rail and stepped onto the ledge. John reached up and handed her the baby and threw up the packs and weapons. He turned and ran back to the wheelhouse and threw the engine into forward. As he ran to the rear of the boat, he glanced over his shoulder and saw the natives were only a 100 feet or so away, but up the high cliffside. The boat had moved about 8 feet from the wall. John knew it was now or never, so he stepped up onto the rail and sprang forward, both hands stretched out in front of him. He hit the cave wall with a thud, his fingernails trying to dig into the rock face for a purchase. He looked directly above him and saw Cathy trying to reach down with the baby in one hand, the other held out toward him. His fingernails felt like they were being ripped from their base. His feet were in the water now, and his legs followed, only his fingers causing friction to slow his descent into the cold, dark, unknown waters. He glanced down at the water and he saw something that made him kick his feet into the face of the wall, scraping and digging into the rock face. He saw the small fishes with terrible razor sharp teeth attacking his walking boots, and he knew this was it.

Suddenly, something grabbed his shirt collar, stopping his downward slide. He was afraid to look up, but had to. It was Cathy, she had set the baby down and lunged for him, grabbing a handful of shirt collar. Her grip wasn’t about to fail. With an enormous amount of strength, Cathy pulled and his feet came out of the water, the little deadly fishes still clinging to his shoes and socks. She reached down with her other hand and pulled, rolling onto her back, her arms between her legs, and hauling away. Within seconds, John’s hands found a hold, and he helped pull himself up and onto the ledge.

They rolled over and hugged each other, John careful of the baby who was pressed up against the side of the rock wall. John kissed his wife for all he was worth and she returned the kiss. They smiled, laughed and cursed their luck. John got up, found his pack and pulled out a flashlight, turning it on to examine their new digs. He wondered if the natives had fallen for his trick. He followed the rock ledge toward the waterfall opening and tried to see what was happening on the far side, but the downpour was too much. So he poked his head through. He saw the natives raining down arrows on the riverboat. Good, they’ll be busy for awhile, John thought. He slipped his head back inside and shone his flashlight over the walls, looking for a way out. Then it dawned on him. How could he have seen the ledge if there was no light? So he shut off the flashlight and waited a few minutes. There was light coming from an opening in the rock wall about 18 to 20 feet above them. He looked at the crack in the cave wall and taking a deep breath, started climbing. It was tricky because the foot and handholds were sharp and few, but he eventually made it to the opening. He wedged himself into the crack and, now with his hands free, he leaned over into the hole. It was lighter, but still a cave. It was about 3 feet wide, 2 feet high and seemed to be about 50 feet long, with a bright light at the other end.

John called down to his wife, Cathy, are you all right?

Yes, John. What’s the matter? Are you ok?

Yeah, I’m at the top, about 20 feet up, and there is a small cave, maybe a couple of feet high, 3 feet wide, and maybe 50 feet long. I can see bright lights at the other end. Honey, I’m going to try to see where it goes. I’ll be right back.

Ok, we’ll be right here.

John smiled and with the flashlight in his hand, moved forward, once inside the cave, he had to wiggle and use his elbows and knees to push himself forward. After fifteen minutes of slow crawling, he thought he heard what sounded like a scream. His first thought was Cathy, but, no the sound came from up ahead. He stopped breathing and strained to hear, but there was nothing. He moved forward and then he was at the end of the cave. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Sunshine, beaming down from a bluish- red sky, with white clouds floating by. It had been pouring rain just a few minutes ago. He could feel the denseness of the air.

John took in a deep breath, it smelled like decaying vegetation or moss, and mold, and there was something else, but he couldn’t place it. He looked over the edge and saw that if they were careful, they could crawl down the rock face about 50 feet to the jungle floor.

The jungle was hot, thick and green. He got out so he could turn around, then started back for Cathy and the baby. Once at the other end, he rigged up the rope he carried in his pack and made a sling for the baby, then pulled their son up safely. He sent the rope back down for the packs, rifle and finally, his beloved wife, Cathy.

To give her room, he had to back up, taking the baby with him. Finally, Cathy’s head popped over the lip of the cave and then was following him into the cave. Only after another few minutes of crawling backwards did he feel his feet and legs slip into the void and he stopped, waiting for Cathy to catch up. Leaving the baby in Cathy’s care, he carefully slid over the edge, searching for toe and hand holds till he was about 6 feet down. Then he stopped and looked up. Wait here, while I see if there is an easier way down for you two. Cathy nodded.

John moved slowly down the rock face. He was at the bottom before he realized it. The soft jungle floor cushioned his landing. He smiled and looked at the trees. There was one almost touching the cliff face, almost as high. If he could chop it so if fell against the cliff face, and cut the branches, he could make a ladder.

Cathy, drop the ax down to me. Carefully, or I’ll have a dent in my skull.

With ax in hand, he cut the tree a couple of feet above the trunk and when it was ready, pushed it toward the cave opening. It tilted and fell against the cliff and landed exactly as he wanted it. He climbed the branches, trimming as he went, cutting off those that were in the way, and leaving other to be used for steps in place.

In two hours, the ladder was ready for testing. John climbed easily up to the cave opening. Cathy watched his every move, smiling all the time. Soon they were all together on the jungle floor.

The heat and humidity were growing. John took the packs and linked them together, so he could carry both, leaving Cathy with the baby and one rifle, a sidearm, knife and canteen. Within the hour they were moving off to the west, the direction they came from before the waterfalls. Their camp was about 300 miles due west of where they were now he figured.

They had only been walking for 15 minutes or so when John came to a small stream, he stooped down and dipped his hands in the water, Damn, this water is warm! He leaned over and took a taste, It’s fresh water darling, come fill up. It’s not cold, but it’s drinkable. Then if you’d like, you can even take a bath.

Me, needing a bath, what about you?

Me? Are you saying I stink?

Yes, love. You smell like a man who has escaped cannibals, poisoned arrows, waterfalls, a sinking boat, thousands of little piranha and a climb through a bat cave. No, I think we all need a bath.

They all bathed, the little one getting his first. Then John broke out a packet of food for them. John looked at his watch, waterproof, which said it was one in the afternoon; therefore the sun should still be higher in the sky, but when he could see it through the trees, it seemed to be down below or very near the horizon. Something was wrong with his watch, it had stopped working for some reason. It couldn’t be sunset already. Strange, but not much he could do about it now.

Suddenly he realized he was tired. He glanced over at Cathy and the baby, they were asleep already. Maybe he’d better gather some wood and build a fire. He looked around and saw some debris: branches, twigs, and dried leaves. He gathered them up and made a small fire. As he was building the fire, suddenly he had the feeling he was being watched. Looking casually over his shoulder, John saw something duck behind a nearby tree. He whipped around, grabbing his rifle, looking for the thing, whatever it was. He sat and watched with his rifle in his lap. He stood watch, letting his wife and child sleep. The night grew chilly, but not cold. He kept the fire going, and at least a dozen times thought he heard something out in the bush just beyond the shadow cast by the fire.

The baby was crying when John woke up and the tip of a sharp object was jammed into his throat. He couldn’t see anything except a sharp stone, tied by rawhide or something similar, to a long pole or rod. John shouted, Cathy, Cathy are you alright?

He heard a whimpering and a baby’s cry, but nothing else, just some grunting. Then he heard a loud growl like nothing he’d ever heard before-like a thousand lions roaring and he felt his throat being ripped opened. John tried to scream, but no sound came. Then there was darkness…

CHAPTER ONE

(Late afternoon, 20 Dec 1999-Lima International Airport, Peru)

The C-141 was ready to take off, when the pilot took an order from the tower to return to hanger five. The pilot eased back on the controls and steered the aircraft back to the hanger, where a member of the U.S. Embassy staff waited. The pilot unbuckled the seatbelt and moved down the ladder to the cargo deck and the side door, motioning for the crew chief to open up. He waited for the stairs to be rolled into place and then scampered down to the tarmac.

The Embassy person, a man in his 50’s, offered his hand and an envelope. You’re to take 8 more passengers onboard, and drop some of them off in Manaus and then the deliver the rest to Georgetown.

You have to be kidding, we’re going to Venezuela, not Guyana.

Your orders have been changed. He pulled out a small penknife, and opened the envelope, showing the Captain his new orders.

Shit, whose bright idea was this? I have to file a new flight plan. We’ll never get past that storm now.

Your new flight plan has already been delivered and we’ve informed Manaus and Georgetown of your ETA.

With a nod from the man, the 8 new passengers filed out of the hanger. Six military types, four men and two women, all carrying small arms surrounding two others. The two in the center of the group appeared to be walking with a strange shuffle, like they had leg irons on. Shit, what is this? Prisoners?

Yes Captain, the famous drug czar and his bodyguard, captured a few days ago. It has been kept secret, while we waited for extradition to be approved. You will deliver these men and their guards to the U.S. Department of Justice aircraft waiting for you in Georgetown. There will be no questions, just complete your mission.

Oh, by the way, the other two passengers are to be left alone, totally.

What other two?

The two who got on while we were discussing this.

The Captain, swearing under his breath, climbed in after the rest and walked down the aisle, checking to see if they were all situated and hoping to check out their faces. He moved over to the crew chief and motioned for her to follow him into the rear of the aircraft, as if he was checking the cargo. Once at the far end of the aircraft, he leaned over and asked if the she saw what was happening. Yes Sir, I noted the guys with the weapons and the two in leg irons and handcuffs. The two MP’s sat down near the guys with the leg irons. The last two men to climb aboard, though, headed for the vacant seats near the cargo.

The Captain leaned around the corner of the cargo, checking to see if he could see who was where. He could, and he saw the two passengers, both dressed in dark clothing. Their bags were shoved under their seats, and they had their coats off, and seatbelts locked in place.

He asked the chief for the seating chart and she pulled it out of a pocket, pointing out the seat locations of all the passengers. He noted the two he just looked at, who were followed by two