“She ready to go?”
“Ready,” Harv said.
“This is everyone’s last chance for a pit stop. We’ll be in the air for several hours.”
Grangeland looked around in an exaggerated manner. “Hmm, no restroom.”
Nathan nodded to the hangar buildings.
She jogged over to the hangars and disappeared around the corner.
Nathan turned toward Ernie. “What about you?”
He shook his head.
Harv removed their duffel bags and Nathan’s aluminum rifle case from the Crown Vic’s backseat and secured them in the baggage compartment.
“Listen up, Ernie,” Nathan said. “I’m willing to cuff your hands in front for the flight provided you behave yourself. Do we have an understanding?”
“I ain’t gonna make no trouble,” he said.
Without being asked, Harv pulled his Sig and pointed it at Ernie’s chest. Using the handcuff key Grangeland had given him, Nathan re-cuffed Ernie’s hands in front of his stomach. Even though he had it coming, leaving the condemned man’s wounded hands cuffed behind his back for the long flight seemed cruel, especially with his dislocated shoulder. Harv pushed Bridgestone into the right rear seat, behind the pilot’s position. He fastened Ernie’s seat belt and shoulder strap.
Once Grangeland returned from her business, Nathan pulled her aside and kept his voice low. “I cuffed Ernie’s hands in front for the flight. Guard your weapon closely, okay?”
She nodded and strapped herself into the left rear seat.
“What about the Crown Vic?” Harv asked.
“Yeah,” Nathan agreed. “Park it over by the hangars with the other vehicles.”
“There’s Semtex in the trunk,” Harv said.
“Grangeland can relay its location once we’ve landed at our first fuel stop. We’ll just have to risk that no one steals the car within the next few hours or so. As a precaution, we’ll take the blasting caps with us.”
“Good thought,” she said.
When Harv returned from parking the sedan, he secured the blasting caps into a duffel bag and handed Grangeland a Bose headset with a boom mike. He plugged it into the console over her right shoulder. Bridgestone didn’t receive a headset. Although engine and slipstream noise would be loud, it wouldn’t be overly so, but more important, it allowed Grangeland, Harv, and Nathan to communicate without being overheard, which was far more important than worrying about Bridgestone’s ears. Besides, he wouldn’t need them much longer anyway.
While Nathan went through the start-up checklist, Harv connected Nathan’s cell into the audio interface that would allow them to patch calls through their flight helmets. Harv entered the GPS coordinates Ernie had given them into the Garmin G600 NavCom. The glass avionics in Nathan’s helicopter were state-of-the-art. Along with flight-control data on the left screen, the G600 employed built-in terrain and navigation databases on the right screen, providing a precise moving map of where they were at any given time and where they were going. With the GDL-A data-link receiver, they could access high-resolution weather information anywhere within the United States.
“While you were at the hotel, I did some rough flight planning,” Harv said. “It’s a three-leg trip. Winnemucca, Nevada, Idaho Falls, Idaho, then into Great Falls, Montana. Our destination coordinates are close to a town called Dupuyer on Highway Eighty-nine. We’ll fuel up in Great Falls. I checked the airport listing binder. At each airport, self-service pumps are available if the jet centers are closed. All of them have Jet-A available, night or day.”
“Good job. We might be landing at Malmstrom Air Force Base instead of Great Falls.”
Harv consulted the charts. “That’s…. no problem. It’s only a few miles to the east.”
Within two minutes of starting the engine, Nathan had the two-and-a-half-ton Bell 407 in a stable hover.
“Clear on the left?” Nathan asked.
“Clear,” Harv answered.
They were on their way.
Chapter 25
Minutes after their stop in Winnemucca, Nathan’s cell rang. It was close to 7:00 am. Harv patched it through the NavCom.
It was Stone McBride. “I’ve got the satellite intel all set up for you.”
“Great work, Dad. Thanks.”
“I’m glad to do it. When you get within one hundred miles of Malmstrom, change to this frequency and announce your call sign as Civilian Delta.” Stone rattled off the numbers and Harv programmed the frequency into the ninth preset on the NavCom unit.
“Got it,” Nathan said.
“An Air Force Black Hawk will intercept you and escort you onto the base. It would be useful if I could tell them when to expect you up there.”
“Wait one,” Harvey said and began scrolling through menus. “We’ll be crossing Interstate Ninety in approximately… four hours, assuming our fuel stop in Idaho Falls goes as expected.”
“Got it,” Stone said. “Once you’re at Malmstrom, they’ll fuel you up and give you the latest photos of the area. They’ll probably be twenty-to-thirty minutes old by then, but that’s the best they can do. Also, if anyone shows up at the location after you leave Malmstrom, they’ll radio you.”
“Perfect,” Nathan said.
“Major General Mansfield is the base commander. I told him this is a classified operation on a need-to-know basis. The number of people involved is minimal. He assured me there will be no leaks or quote, ‘heads will roll.’ Don’t take any unnecessary risks. Bridgestone isn’t worth your life, or Harvey’s.”
“Thanks for your help, Dad. I’ll call you later.”
“Be careful, Nathan.”
* * *
After a quick refuel and head call in Idaho Falls, they were on their way north again. The weather was perfect, not a cloud in the sky, and it looked good all the way to the Canadian border. Nothing was forecast for the next forty-eight hours. Nathan wondered why he hadn’t flown up this way before. It was truly beautiful territory. He made a mental note to go camping up here. River-washed valleys and rocky canyons dominated the landscape. In the distance off to the west, snowcapped peaks lined the horizon.
Harv worked the NavCom. “We’ll be coming up on Interstate Ninety in about twenty minutes. That’s a good place to call our Air Force escort.”
“Sounds good.”
“How’s the arm?” Harv asked.
“A little sore, but the bleeding has almost stopped. Thanks for the TLC, Grangeland.” She’d insisted on changing his bandages at each fuel stop.
“You’re welcome, I wish I could do more.”
“How’s our passenger doing?”
“About the same,” she said. “He’s been staring out the window the whole time.”
Not surprising, considering what lay ahead for him. One way or another, this was a one-way trip for Ernie Bridgestone.
* * *
At I-90, Harv pressed the ninth preset button for the frequency Nathan’s father had given them. He toggled the transmit trigger on the cyclic control. “This is Civilian Delta on heading zero-one-zero crossing Interstate Ninety at eight thousand five hundred.”
The response came back immediately. “Civilian Delta, squawk three-two-two-five and ident.”
Harv repeated the instructions, entered the numbers into their transponder, and pressed the ident button.
The metallic voice came back. “Civilian Delta, radar contact confirmed. Maintain current heading and speed and await further instructions.”
They flew for another ten minutes before the controller came back. “Civilian Delta, your escort is five miles at one o’clock. Maintain heading and speed. Advise upon visual contact.”
Harv repeated the instructions. “You got him yet?” he asked Nathan.
“No, but we’re closing fast. We should see him in the next minute or two.”