12 Minutes (#2 in Military series)

Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The C-17A Globemaster III was the latest addition to the Air Force's fleet. Capable of travelling up to 450 knots and able to fit three Apache helicopters into its cargo hold, as well as troops, the plane could easily be described as a 'beast'.

And it was their ride back to Afghanistan.

Dark grey in colour, its shape was only visible against the night sky due to the lights flickering at the tip of each wing.

It brought up memories of deployment for Julia as she crouched behind a parked Land Rover, watching secretly from afar.

The plane's rear door had been lowered, acting as a ramp for the loading vehicle which was loading palletised cargo into the belly of the aircraft.

Marc leaned past her to observe the scene. He spotted a small group of workmen to the right of the plane that were discussing something on a clipboard. Two further crates were located behind them, waiting to be boarded.

"We'll go once those crates are loaded." Marc whispered.

Julia nodded silently, keeping watch. Her heart was drumming slightly faster in her chest at the prospect of illegally boarding a Royal Air Force plane, and yet at the same time it was exhilarating.

How many other people got to say that they did this? It was no easy feat breaking into the air base and something told her that boarding this plane wasn't going to be as straightforward either.

Thirty minutes later and the last pallet had being loaded onto the plane. Marc peered over the top of the bonnet and saw Lucille emerging from the cockpit. He saw her head glance around the immediate area. She was looking for them.

"Right, let's go." Marc began to stand.

"Wait," Julia held up a fist, telling them to a halt.

Marc slowly lowered himself back down to a crouch, "What is it?"

Julia nodded to the group of men, "They're still too close to the plane. If we go now, they'll see us."

Moving forward, Marc glanced around Julia and saw she was right. The men were still chatting and looking at the plane too often. They would never be able to slip past.

Lucille kept looking around her casually, as if she was passing time, but he knew that she was looking for them. They were running out of time.

"That rear door will be closing shortly," Carlos muttered from the back, "We need to do something soon if we want to get on board."

"What about a distraction?" Twitch suggested.

"Hold on, something's happening," Julia lowered her fist as she saw the men begin to turn. They were laughing and then, a moment later, they all turned and headed into the hangar, one of them waving back at the woman.

"Well?" Twitch asked, unable to see from where he was squeezed between Marc and Carlos.

"Okay, it's clear." Rising to her feet, Julia gripped the straps of her rucksack and hurried across the tarmac.

The wind whipped around her body as she ran, making her feel exposed, but a few moments later her boots were clanging against the rear door as she made her way up the ramp and into the cargo hold, safely hidden inside.

Once she was inside, Julia squeezed herself between the side of a pallet and the wall seats, and hurried to the front of the plane to allow the others in behind her.