The Power of Five Oblivion

finished, the sweat trickling off his face. His eyes were glazed, out of focus. Lohan helped him sit down and rested him against a tree.
    “Wait for me here,” he said.
    Matt nodded. But as Lohan straightened up, he grabbed hold of his arm. “Thank you, Lohan,” he said.
    “You don’t have to say that.”
    “Yes. I do. Only because of you…”
    Matt’s voice trailed away and it was then that Lohan made his decision. There could be no other way. His father would have approved.
    From the very start, Lohan had helped Matt because it was to his own advantage but things were different now. Matt was finished – and even if he’d had the strength to reach the plane, Lohan had come to a decision. There was no way he was flying to Antarctica. It was a crazy idea! His time in Serra Morte had taught him that he had no part in this adventure. If he could reach the Legacy 600, he would fly north to America, as he had always planned. Somehow he would survive and make enough money to begin the journey east. He wanted to go home, back to the Triad, his family and his friends. The Old Ones didn’t matter. Nor did the Gatekeepers. They could look after themselves.
    Lohan slipped round the perimeter fence, keeping close to the edge of the forest. Matt was already forgotten. He could see the four soldiers ahead of him and despite everything that had happened – the destruction of part of the mine, the escape, the jeep that had just crashed and exploded – they looked remarkably relaxed. It was always possible that they had no idea what was going on, but as Lohan drew closer, he saw the true reason. They had been smoking ganja, the mind-altering drug that was cultivated all over Brazil. Lohan smiled to himself. It was the first stroke of luck he’d had all week. The next time they looked, they’d be dead.
    Lohan had learned many martial arts in his time with the Triads, some of them handed down by the ninjas, the famous secret agents of feudal Japan. One of these was stealth walking, the ability to approach an enemy without being seen. Lohan knew that he was barely more than a novice. He had once sent an assassin across a crowded restaurant to kill a man who was surrounded by friends and bodyguards, and nobody had seen him approach. It was only when the shot had been fired that they realized he was there.
    Even so, Lohan had been taught the rudiments of stealth walking and he applied them now. From the gate to the aircraft was a matter of some thirty steps and, with flat rubble and grass all around, there was nowhere to hide. The secret of stealth walking is mental, not physical. It is finding a oneness with your surroundings so that you blend into them, become them. He knew that time was short. More soldiers would be on the way. But he made himself slow down, searching for the necessary concentration. Only when he was sure that he was ready did he step forward.
    He passed through the gates and walked over to the men. They were talking among themselves, telling obscene jokes and laughing. Not one of them so much as glanced his way. Lohan was carrying the gun he had taken from the jeep. Step by step he approached, standing in plain sight and yet invisible. Suddenly he was there, in front of them. The soldiers scrabbled for their weapons but it was far too late. He shot all four of them at close range, watching the bodies slump. And there he was, alone with the aircraft. It was hard to believe he had got away with it.
    A flight of steps led to the plane. The cabin door was open. Lohan climbed up quickly, not looking back, already going over the various procedures for taxiing and take-off. But even as he reached the top he heard the grinding of metal, and before he could do anything, the door slammed shut like the entrance to a tomb. His first thought was that someone inside had closed it but that was impossible. There had been no one there. He reached out and tried to open it, but the door was stuck fast. Slowly, with a sense of foreboding, he turned round.
    Matt had managed to drag himself to the perimeter fence and he was clinging onto it, his eyes fixed on the plane. Even at this distance, Lohan could see his anger, his sense of betrayal. He also knew that if Matt wanted to, he could sweep the Legacy 600 aside … or cause it to shatter into a thousand pieces.
    “Open the door!” he shouted. “I just want to go in and check the controls.”
    Matt didn’t reply.
    Lohan stood there, waiting for him to speak, the two of