by Ron Hess
I went through the airport’s gate to where the single-engine light planes sat.
“Which one is yours?” I asked Jim.
Jim pointed out a beautiful red Cessna 185 sitting over in a corner of the field.
“That one,” he said with pride. “The red one with the three-bladed prop.”
I nodded. He had a right to be proud. The plane looked like it had just came out the factory door. I had no doubt he drove out and dusted it off every day after work.
I pulled up beside it and we bailed out of the Jeep. Emily walked ahead of us, like she wasn’t about to be left behind by a certain Leo Bronski, who had been known to pull a trick or two in his day. I almost laughed at the way her coattails flew out behind her, but realized that all of a sudden laughter was out of fashion. She threw her backpack through the open cargo door and turned to face me, ready for me to object at the last moment. Instead, I asked, “Uh . . .you have a weapon with you?”
And to my surprise, she hauled out a small .25 caliber automatic. “Will this do?”
“Sure,” I said, as matter-of-factly as I could. And indeed it would—up close, anyway.
While Emily and I secured our gear, Jim released the tie-down ropes, made a quick preflight check and started the engine.
Take-off in a Cessna 185 is exhilarating. There’s the low engine growl at first, then the roar as the prop comes up to speed. Your back is glued to the seat back as the plane moves down the runway.
The plane’s tail came up and I watched as Jim worked the control wheel and rudder pedals to keep her headed straight down the runway. Then we were off into the blue, the Cessna’s three-hundred-horsepower engine noise no doubt rattling the windows of nearby buildings. A pilot gets every bit of the thrill a car driver gets going down a drag strip.
We leveled out five hundred feet above the ground and began following the highway north. At cruise, the engine was much quieter. I looked back at Emily in the rear seat. Her eyes were closed. Bless her heart.
“The scenery is beautiful from up here, Emily.”
Slowly she cocked her right eye open and turned her head toward the window. She opened the left eye and pressed her nose to the window.
“Your first time in a light plane?” I asked.
She nodded as Jim banked the plane to stay with the highway. Immediately her eyes closed again.
“We can let you out if you want,” I said.
Her eyes opened and she gave me a first class glare. “Oh, no, you don’t, Leo Bronski. I’m staying. Don’t you tell Sam!”
I smiled. What a team they would make. Well, enough of the deep thoughts. I turned my attention to scanning the road below. Not a blue van in sight.
“I don’t see the van,” I said.
“You might not,” Jim said, “They may have switched vehicles. She drove a brown Buick, right?”
He was right. They probably had switched. It was time to do something different.
“Okay, Jim, lets make a beeline for that strip. We just might get there before they do.”
He nodded and shoved the throttle forward. Fifteen minutes later we were circling the strip where Ralph kept his blue Cessna 180. As we came in low to make a pass to scare off any moose that might be on the runway, I saw that it was still there.
“Did you see it?” Jim asked.
“Yeah, back in the trees,” I answered, and looked back again at Emily. Her eyes were closed again. Jim circled again and turned onto final approach, throttle eased off, with the wind whistling by the cabin of the plane. I turned to look back at Emily.
“Are you okay?”
She opened the eye closest to me.
“Yeah, as soon as we get this cotton-pickin’ thing on the ground.”
Was that sweet Emily talking?
“Emily?” I said, still looking in her direction.
“Well, this flying business has me stressed!”
I turned back to look out the front windshield. A stressed-out woman is best left alone. Jim was a good pilot. No thumps, no bumps to upset the woman in the rear. We were down, safe and sound. The engine had barely stopped ticking over before we were out of the plane and pushing it back into the trees. That is, Jim and I pushed, while Emily walked around, a dazed look on her face. I tried to be funny.
“Hey, Emily, we’re really on the ground—and in one piece.”
She gave me a look that would melt a steel post.
“Enough, Bronski, I’ll be all right.”
Jim raised an eyebrow in my direction and smiled as he handed me the short barreled shotgun.
“What’s your plan, sir?”
I didn’t answer him right away. While I was thinking, I busied myself putting three-inch double-ought buck magnum shells into my weapon. Up close these shells would stop just about anything the North Country could offer. Even a grizzly. Finished, I looked over at him.
“You have a cell phone with you?”
He shook his head. Hmm . . . that might be a problem. I had mine, but . . . wait a second.
“Emily!” I shouted. She was standing on the runway, coattails swishing back and forth in the breeze. She had her shades back on, which meant I guessed, that she was back in command of her senses. But standing in the middle of the gravel runway was a surefire way of being seen. She slowly turned to face me.
“What?”
Yep, she was back in command.
“Come over here!” I yelled.
She came, but she took her own sweet time. I decided not to yell at her about standing out in the open where she could be seen. She was in no mood for it.
“Emily,” I said quietly, “I need your cell phone.”
Her mouth opened in disbelief and then closed in a straight line.
“My cell phone?”
You would have thought I was asking her for her first child.
“Yes, I said, with a grin, “your cell phone. You are part of this team, right?”
She reached into an inside pocket of her coat and plopped it in my hand. I immediately passed it over to Jim who set to programming it so it wouldn’t ring out loud, but only vibrate in his pocket. Since he was so proficient at programming, I gave him mine. Within a minute, he handed mine back all ready to go. Just to make sure, we called each other to check them out. Emily stood there, a pained expression on her face.
“I better get it back in the same shape it was.”
“Don’t worry, Princess, if anything happens to it, I’ll buy you another one.”
Emily eyes opened in surprise. All her life she had thought of herself as a wallflower type, or I guessed she had. Now, because of Sam, she had to learn a little about being a regular girl. She became red in the face and smoothed her hair back. A little flustered, she said, “Well, just make sure you do!”
Jim winked at me. He was having fun. I sighed. Humans—they never quit being human.
“All right, you guys, here is what we’re going to do.”
I went on to explain that Emily would stay with me while Jim would disable the engine on Ralph’s plane by pulling a couple of magneto wires. Then he would hide out across the strip from us close to Ralph’s plane. With the wires pulled on the engine we should hear it grind as Ralph tried to start it. Even if we were asleep, the noise of the starter would wake us. I would be the one to tell them to disarm if in fact they were and then to lay down on the ground, etc. Emily would stay in our hiding place. If anyone were to get hurt, it would be me. Coming here was my idea and therefore my pain.
While Jim went to the plane and pulled wires, Emily and I found a log about fifty yards away and made a nest behind it. No sense in being uncomfortable. We had our sleeping bags and a thermos of coffee I had thought to bring to ward off the chill. This set me to thinking about the bottle of Jack Daniel’s sitting on the shelf back at the B & B. But that thought had to be set aside, alcohol and chasing robbers don’t mix. Emily watched as I poured myself a small cup. I motioned at her, “Want some?”
She shook her head. Prob
ably thinking about my germs on the cup. I shrugged and drank the whole cup, making all the appropriate noises of satisfaction. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her wilt.
“Uh . . . Leo, would you pour me a cup?”
“Sure, Princess.”
Whereupon she turned red and smoothed her hair back. I had to struggle to maintain a straight face as I handed her a cup.
“I hope black is okay?”
While she was busy gulping it down, I felt my cell phone vibrate in my pants pocket. After a few fumbles, I managed to retrieve it. Of all times to have a phone call.
“What?”
“Sir?”
“Yes, Sam.”
Emily looked up, eyes full of warm glow. She started to reach for the phone, but I gently moved her hand away.
“I tried Emily’s phone, but some guy answered. Is . . . is Emily okay?”
I managed to let him know she was when I heard a beep. This meant somebody else was trying to call. Sam was not a happy camper about not being able to talk to Emily. I had a hunch who the caller was and I was not disappointed.
“Bronski?”
“Yes?” I said, pretending I didn’t know who it was. But he knew I knew. That voice was unmistakable.
“Where are you?”
He was still playing it gentle, like to an errant child. I decided to be direct.
“I’m at an airstrip.”
“Where is this airstrip, Leo?” he asked.
“North of Fire Bay.”
I loved doing this to the Boss. Giving him just enough so as not to be legally insubordinate. Of course, the strip was north; south would have been in the ocean. There was a moment’s silence, a gathering of the storm to come.
“Damn it, Bronski! Of all the times I have to put up with you! Now where is that airstrip?”
I grinned. This was more like the old Boss.
“About twenty miles north.”
“And just what in hell are you doing there?”
“It so happens Ralph, who is a janitor at the P.O., has a plane here, and I’m betting on Ashley and Ralph showing up sometime after dark.”
“Leo, don’t you think that’s the local law’s job, to chase criminals?”
“Boss, I want Ashley to know that it was me that caught her, not some cop. She probably thinks everyone is too dumb to think about the plane. The local law was busy with witnesses so they couldn’t come. This isn’t Anchorage, you know.”
“Leo! You’re letting your ego get to you. Besides, aren’t you endangering other people in the process? Don’t you have a Postal Service employee with you?”
I sighed. Well, I had told Sam to be truthful, hadn’t I? The Boss went on.
“Leo, I’d like for you to go back to the post office and take care of things there.”
“What did you say, Boss? My phone seems to be on the blink. My battery must be low. Sorry, I’ll get back to you when I can.”
Whereupon, I clicked off. It was an old trick, but it was the only thing I could think of. I looked over at Emily, now looking pensive.
“You can go back if you wish, Emily.”
Even as I said it, I knew she wouldn’t. And I was right. She simply shook her head once. The die was set and the bed made. She was there to stay.
Chapter 35
By seven o’clock that evening, the sun’s rays were poking through the trees. After the phone call from the Boss, things settled down with only a call from Jim every half-hour. Emily looked up from making her notes.
“Do you really think they’ll come?”
I peered over the log at Ralph’s plane for maybe the hundredth time.
“Yeah, I think they will. By road, there’s only one highway out of Fire Bay and the Troopers will have checkpoints set up. That leaves boats or planes and, since Ralph has a plane and not a boat, then I think we’re in the right place.”
Emily continued making notes. I was beginning to think I should stick to one-word answers.
“You writing down every word I speak?”
She tapped her pen against her chin, a smile slowly forming in her eyes.
“Uh huh, just in case you’re right about the plane.”
My eyebrows raised with the first inkling of self-doubt.
“And if I’m wrong, then what?”
“Then we’ll have a good laugh,” she said.
Yeah, on me, I thought. But it wouldn’t be the first time. After that exchange, we became quiet again. The sun’s rays became an orange glow higher up in the trees as the day descended into twilight. Unlike the tropics, twilight lasts a long time in the North. Instead of an inky black as soon as the sun sets, the long twilight phases you into darkness, letting you and your eyes adjust to the night. This is especially helpful when you’re on the hunt. And we were definitely on the hunt.
Emily stopped her writing, whether because of the twilight or whether she had run out of words, I couldn’t say. But I sure as hell was not going to ask. My cell-phone vibrated again. Thinking it was Jim checking in, I answered more brusquely than I should have.
“Yeah?”
“Leo, it’s Jeanette. How’s it going?”
I whispered that it was going okay, that we were in a “wait mode.” She said the Boss had called and wanted her to “talk some sense into that guy.” So she was doing her wifely duty. Good old Boss. He knew and used all the angles to get me to come in. Except I wasn’t going to. Ashley owed me—big time—for that picture and I was going to whip her, one way or the other. But I didn’t tell Jeanette that.
“No, Hon,” I said, “We’re all set up here, so I think we’ll stay. Maybe they won’t come,” I said, hoping to erase some of her fears.
“I told the Boss I didn’t think you would go back to Fire Bay. It would be so unlike you.”
She was right. It would be unlike me. I whispered to her not to worry and we clicked off.
The temperature was starting to cool, maybe down into the upper thirties. Emily was starting to shiver and so we broke out our sleeping bags.
Time passed. It was dark now. I could see the outline of Emily sitting by the log, but not much more. So we sat there by the log, each lost in his or hers thoughts.
“I forgot my flashlight,” Emily said.
I smiled. “I guess you weren’t in the Girl Scouts or some such organization?”
“Nope, I couldn’t see the sense of it. I was going to be a writer. Besides, who wanted somebody like . . . ”
I didn’t prompt her to complete the sentence. I knew what she was going to say.
Because of her teeth, nobody wanted her around, or at least that was Emily’s feeling. I sighed. Kids can be cruel, and I probably would have been one of those kids that taunted her about her teeth.
I checked my watch with my flashlight. It was ten-thirty. They should be showing before long I reasoned. But, again, they might not.
“Emily, would you mind taking the first watch until say . . . twelve-thirty.”
I yawned. “Hope you don’t mind.”
There was a pause. I’m sure she had entertained the thought herself, but here the old fella had beat her to the punch.
“No, I guess not,” she said.
“Good,” I countered, and I rolled over in my nest of spruce boughs. Even if she fell asleep, Jim across the strip probably would remain wide-awake. He was used to waiting, first as a soldier, then as a hunter waiting on some moose to poke its head out of the trees.
I crashed, and was asleep before I could count to ten. Later Emily said I tossed and turned and shouted a couple of times about throwing a grenade on that machine gun nest. One of my old Vietnam dreams. Sometimes I don’t even know I have them. She asked me if I would be willing to give her an interview sometime. I could only shake my head no. Let the dead stay in their graves was my motto. One thing I did do was give her the phone with an admonition to use it sparingly. I could imagine Sam calling her every half-hour to make sure she was okay. She said that time really dragged when I went to sleep and wo
uld have gone to sleep herself except that Jim called a couple of times.
I came to when I felt something hit my foot.
“Bronski!” came a harsh whisper. “There’s something out there!”
“What?” I said.
“I said, ‘There’s something out there!‘“
I woke up, my mind whirling. It could be only a moose doing its nightly browse. I sat up, fully awake, and checked my watch. Well, what do you know, it was the bewitching hour.
“Bronski!” she whispered again.
“Okay, I hear you.” I whispered back. “Listen, and be quiet.”
For that, I received another kick. I suspect she rather enjoyed doing it, a payback for making her stay awake. Then I heard a clank with the sound of a muttered curse. I grinned. I recognized that voice. It was Ashley. Immediately, I rang Jim’s phone. For a few seconds I was beginning to think he had fallen asleep. Finally, he answered, and I told him to get ready, and to remember the fact he was to act as backup only.
“Uh-huh,” he muttered.
“Jim, are you awake?”
“Uh-huh,” he muttered.
“Well, try to wake up, I’m moving in.”
“Uh-huh,” he muttered again.
Some people take forever to wake up, I thought, and clicked off.
“Emily,” I whispered, “You stay here.”
It was light enough for me to see her head nod up and down.
I took a deep breath. Just like in the old days of Vietnam when we were going out on a night patrol. We members of the patrol knew it was likely that one or two of us wouldn’t be coming back. And each of us asked the question of himself: is it my turn to die?
One of the things I had done while it was light, was to make sure of the lay of the land, especially how to sneak around to Ralph’s plane from our hiding place. So I stood up, took the safety off on my shotgun and proceeded to make my way to the plane. Although I wasn’t sure why they hadn’t tried to start the engine. Maybe I could catch them standing together, then I could make them lay down on their stomachs while I used the tie-wraps to bind their hands. Sounded like a plan to me.
I began sneaking from tree to tree in a crouch, which was an automatic reflex learned from Vietnam. It may have saved my life, because at that moment a shot sounded and a piece of bark from the tree I was hiding behind flew down on me.
