THE LANDING STRIP

6 hr 37 min to Birth

No one said a word after Simon's last remark. When Flannigan returned to the cockpit, everyone strained to hear what was said up front.

The pilot reestablished contact with the island. "We have clearance to land," he said.

She walked back to the cabin. Fort Tortuga was visible from the right side of the aircraft. Everyone moved to a window and looked out.

"It is beautiful," Simon admitted.

Less than twenty miles in diameter, it was small and round and filled with trees up to its edges, with little beach. A thin road cut through the trees, from the east end of the island to the west. On either end of the road was a clearing with buildings.

"The forests look considerably more lush than the Galapagos," Gene said. "The Galapagos are dry." The Galapagos, he explained, were home to a variety of rare species of plants and animals. They were considered the inspiration for Charles Darwin's theory of evolution.

The pilot, unfamiliar with the island, was circling to get a good approach at the landing strip. The plane swung in a wide arc around the island.

"Don't tell me that's the landing strip," Simon remarked. The landing strip, near the beach at the east end of the island, was short.

Below, a tiny-looking white van pulled up near the landing strip.

"Fasten your seatbelts," Sam said to the cabin. "We're beginning our descent to Tortuga."

The plane dropped quickly. Flannigan felt a wave of nausea. Landing is not a problem, she told herself. Pilots do these landings all the time.

The plane set down, jostling on its wheels. The pilot braked hard and they all leaned forward in their seats. Flannigan looked out the window and tried to calculate the distance that was left on the runway.

They pulled to a stop. Flannigan resumed breathing. Out the window, she could see the door of the white van open. A man got out. No weapon, she noticed. From what she could see, there was no one else in the van. Situation normal. They weren't hostages, yet.