Mango Key

by Bill H Myers

  I enabled stealth mode and we slowly crept down the road, craning our necks trying to see what was beyond the curve. When the road finally straightened out, there was a small airstrip directly in front of us. To the right of the airstrip sat a camping trailer with a sign saying, “Office.”

  Next to the office stood a twin engine aircraft— just beyond it, parked on a patch of gravel, a white school bus with the Wiener Girl trailer in tow. It looked to be in good shape, pretty much the way it had looked back in the alley in Key West.

  All we had to do was to get it back there. But first we needed to figure out what we were seeing. Near the office, we could see Freddie talking to a middle-aged man wearing cut off shorts and a tie dyed T-shirt. A little further away, near the front of the school bus were two young girls. They didn't look happy.

  Freddie and the man he was talking to hadn't seen us and I figured it would be wise to stay out of their line of sight until we had a better idea of what was going on. I put the Prius in reverse and backed up until we were hidden by the bushes on the side of the road. If we leaned forward, we could still see Freddie, but I didn't think he could see us.

  We watched as he talked with the man who we assumed was the owner of the small plane. At first, the man was shaking his head no. Whatever Freddie was asking him to do he wanted no part of it.

  Freddie reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. He peeled off several bills and handed them to the man. The man took the cash and nodded yes. He shook hands with Freddie and walked over to the plane. He removed the cover from the windshield and pulled the blocks away from the wheels.

  I turned to Buck. “It looks like they're getting ready to go somewhere.”

  Buck nodded. “Yeah, it looks like Freddie is running. If I was him, that's what I'd do. The feds probably won't be happy about it if he flies off. I wonder if they know what he's up to?”

  Hull had warned us not to talk to Freddie or do anything that would interfere with their ongoing investigation. He said they'd been working on it for months and they didn't want to lose him. If they were doing their jobs, they'd know he was at the airstrip. But if they weren't monitoring him and didn't know he was about to fly away, they'd probably want to know.

  I pulled out my phone, found the number Agent Hull had called me from earlier in the day and hit redial. After six rings, he answered.

  “This is Hull.”

  “Yeah. This is Walker. You talked to me today about Freddie. Said not to contact him.”

  “So you haven't, right?”

  “Right, I haven't talked to him. But figured you might want to know he is at the airport with his two daughters. Looks like they're about to fly off. You know about that, right?”

  Apparently he didn't. “Freddie shouldn't be anywhere near an airport. You sure it's him?”

  “Yeah I'm sure. I'm looking at him right now. He's got his two daughters and they're about to board a private plane. Looks like they're going to be taking off in a few minutes.”

  “That can't be. We've got people at the Key West airport. They'd know if he was there.”

  “He's not at the Key West airport, he's at a private field.”

  “A private airport? Where?”

  “Sky Dive Key West on Bat Tower Road. They've got a private airstrip here and the pilot has just made a deal with Freddie. Looks like they're getting the plane ready for takeoff. You want me to try to stop them?”

  “No. Don't do anything. I'll get back to you.”

  He hung up.

  I turned to Buck. “You hear any of that?”

  “He said not to do anything, right?”

  “That's what he said. You okay with that?”

  Buck shrugged. “Suits me. But if Freddie comes back this way hauling the trailer, we're going to stop him.”

  I nodded. Yeah, we would.

  Two minutes later, my phone chimed. Agent Hull returning my call.

  “Walker, Freddie isn't supposed to be flying. We're sending agents to stop him. But if he gets off the ground before we get there, we'll probably lose him. Officially, I can't ask you to do anything. But unofficially, if he gets on that plane, I want you to stop it. Don't let it take off. Do whatever you have to do as long as the girls don't get hurt.”

  “So, you're giving me permission to intervene?”

  “No, not officially. But unofficially the FBI and your nation would be very pleased if something or someone prevented that plane from taking off. As long as no one gets hurt. Understand?”

  “I do. How long before your agents get here?”

  “Ten minutes. Don't let the plane leave the ground.”

  “We'll try.”

  I ended the call and told Buck what Hull had said.

  He smiled. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let's do it.”

  I put the Prius in drive and eased forward a few feet so we'd have a clearer view of Freddie and the plane. At this stage in the game it didn't matter whether they saw us or not.

  From our new vantage point we could see the man who we assumed to be the pilot had started the motors and moved the plane onto the runway. It was facing away from us and would be taking off into the wind. If we were to stop it, we needed to get in front of the plane. But not until it started rolling down the runway. Hopefully Hull and his agents would arrive before then.

  We continued to watch as they made their preparations. Freddie stepped out of the school bus dragging two duffel bags. They looked heavy and he struggled as he pulled them across the runway toward the plane. His daughters were nowhere in sight.

  When Freddie reached the plane, the pilot slid open the side door and helped him with the first bag. The pilot had Freddie's two daughters, who were already on the plane, move to the front to make room for the second bag.

  “Buck, did you see that? The girls are already on the plane. The pilot has the engines spooled up and when he gets that second bag loaded, they'll probably leave. We need to stop them.”

  Chapter Fifty-One

  We had been told by agent Hull not to let the plane take off. He said his agents were on the way, but they hadn't arrived. It looked like it was going to be up to us to keep the plane from flying.

  I turned to Buck. “You ready?”

  “Yeah, let's do it.”

  Being a private airstrip, there was no fence between the runway and the road. Just a patch of grass, maybe a hundred yards wide. I put the Prius in gear, floored it and headed across. The grass was still wet from the morning's rain and when we hit it, the front tires started to spin. I could see the plane had started rolling down the runway and I wanted to catch it. But first I needed to get across the wet grass.

  I eased off the power giving the tires a chance to gain traction. It was tough to watch the plane leave us behind as the Prius struggled to cross the wet grass, but finally we reached the tarmac. The plane was a hundred yards in front of us and pulling away.

  Buck pointed. “You got to catch it.”

  I floored the Prius and it took off, but not nearly as fast as it should have. Something was wrong. I looked down and saw that we were still in EV mode, all electric. In that mode, the car's top speed was limited. I quickly pushed the “Power mode” button, and the car accelerated. With the pedal to floor, both the gas and electric motors were working to give us maximum power and for a moment it looked like we might be able to catch up with the plane.

  I kept the Prius floored and watched as the distance between us and the plane closed. The Prius was actually catching up. But even if we caught up with the plane, the runway wasn't wide enough for us to get in front of it. All we could do was follow it down the runway until it took off.

  Our only hope was to get the pilot's attention. If he saw us running close behind him, maybe he'd abort. Unfortunately, he was focused on his instruments and the runway ahead. He wasn't looking behind. To get his attention, I switched on the car's emergency flashers and laid on the horn.

  For such a small car, it had a loud horn, but not nearly lo
ud enough to be heard over the plane’s two engines. With all the noise inside the plane, it was unlikely either the pilot or his passengers would hear us.

  But the little Prius continued to accelerate and we were able to get closer to the plane. Almost close enough to touch it. I didn't want to crash it, but I wanted to get the pilot's attention, so I pulled the car as close as I dared to the plane's right wing.

  We were doing eighty and the prop wash from the plane was keeping us from going much faster. The wash was affecting the Prius's handling, pushing the little the car dangerously close to the fuselage. At one point, we were close enough to see the girls. They were sitting in the back, holding on to each other, eyes closed. They didn't see us.

  The pilot hadn't heard our horn or seen our emergency flashers; the plane was starting to pull away. The Prius had tried valiantly but simply couldn't keep up.

  Seeing we were in a losing battle, I steered out of the prop wash and let the plane pass us by. When the tail section cleared, I steered directly behind the plane and again laid on the horn hoping to get the pilot's attention.

  From behind, I could see the pilot operating the controls, his eyes focused on the runway ahead. I figured it was a losing cause, but I kept the Prius close, flashing the headlights, trying to get his attention.

  About halfway down the runway, I saw the pilot look over his shoulder. The expression in eyes showed surprise followed by anger. He waved at us to get out of the way then he throttled back. He was aborting the takeoff.

  When the plane slowed, Freddie looked behind, saw us, and started shouting at the pilot. Probably telling him not to stop, to go ahead and take off. But the pilot was shaking his head; he wasn't flying until he found out why two crazy guys in a Prius were chasing him down the runway.

  The plane slowed and rolled to a stop. The pilot was the first one out. He ran over and shouted, “What the hell were you thinking? You could have killed us. This is a private runway. You are not authorized to be here. I'm calling the police.”

  Buck and I didn't get out of the car. It was safer to stay in. The pilot was mad and I couldn't blame him. We'd put his life and the life of his passengers in danger. Not to mention the damage we could have caused to his plane had we hit it.

  The pilot was in the process of calling the police when four black SUVs with sirens blaring raced onto the runway and headed in our direction. The cavalry had arrived.

  Twelve men, most with guns in hand, poured out of the SUVs. The pilot, not knowing what was going on, raised his hands and went to his knees. An agent ran up and cuffed him. Six agents went to the plane. We stayed in the Prius and watched as they removed and handcuffed Freddie. Two helped his daughters out and comforted them as they watched their father being led away.

  They put Freddie in one of the SUVs and the girls in another. After uncuffing the pilot, they put him in the third SUV. The agents retrieved Freddie's bags and three of the four SUVs left the airfield.

  Agent Hull stayed behind. He walked over to the Prius and ordered Buck and me to get out. He moved us over to the front of the SUV he had arrived in, and had us stand with our backs against the hood.

  “So tell me what happened. How'd you know Freddie was here and why were you following him?”

  I explained. “We weren't following Freddie. We were following the Wiener Girl trailer. It was stolen earlier in the day and we followed it here. We had no idea Freddie was involved until we saw the trailer hooked up to his bus. When it looked like he was going to fly out, I called and let you know.”

  I wasn't sure Agent Hull believed my story but I was pretty sure he was glad that Freddie didn't get away. He didn't arrest us but did say we'd have to go to his office and make a statement.

  “Come by tomorrow morning. Make sure you both tell the same story. Don't talk to anyone about this, especially people from the media.”

  After he left, Kat arrived driving her father's one-ton dually pickup. Lori and Summer were with her. They asked about the black SUVs they'd seen leaving the airport and I told them we didn't know anything about them. Not sure they believed me, but they were happy to see the Wiener Girl trailer sitting unharmed.

  It took us half an hour to get the trailer unhooked from Freddie's school bus and hitched to Kat's truck, then another half hour to get it back to Key West. Once there, we had to stop traffic on Caroline Street so Kat could get the trailer backed into the narrow alley where it belonged.

  A crowd of tourists had gathered and watched as Kat maneuvered the trailer into the tight space. When she finally got it in, the crowd rewarded her with a round of applause.

  After Summer checked and was satisfied the trailer hadn't been damaged in the move, we all headed back to Kat's father's place on Mango Key. On the way there, I learned that Lori and Summer had checked out of their room at the Ocean Key and had moved into Boris' guest house.

  I also learned that when Kat went to get the truck, she left my motorhome parked in front of the garage at her father's place. She said she liked driving the motorhome and wanted one of her own. She also said they had full hookups at her father's and I could spend the night there in the motorhome.

  Boris was outside waiting for us when we arrived. He spoke to Kat and then came over to speak to me. I wasn't sure he'd be in a good mood, considering I had just gotten his daughter involved in an FBI operation.

  His first words were, “Walker, I think you and I need to have a private conversation. Wouldn't you agree?”

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  While Kat, Summer, Lori and Buck waited in the big house, Boris and I went to the boathouse. I was still wearing the same clothes I had on earlier and had the photos of Freddie and his girls folded up in my pocket.

  I pulled Freddie's photo out and showed it to Boris. “You recognize this guy?”

  He looked at the photo then back at me. “Yeah, he's the one who robbed our boat. What's his name and where do I find him?”

  I'd hit pay day with the photo. Boris was impressed.

  “His name is Freddie Tuttle, and right now he's being held by the FBI. Chances are good they're going to be holding on to him for a long time.”

  Boris' smile disappeared.

  “The FBI? You got the FBI involved in this?”

  “No, I didn't. The FBI has been investigating Freddie for months. Something to do with picking up shipments and making deliveries using his boat.”

  “So they're not investigating me?”

  “No, not unless you're doing business with the same people Freddie is.”

  Boris thought for a moment then smiled. “No, I'm not doing business with them.”

  “What about my computer? You know who hacked it?”

  I nodded. “I do.”

  I pulled out the photo of the two girls, Freddie's daughters, and handed it to Boris.

  “Here are your hackers.”

  He looked at the photo then back at me. “These are the hackers? These two kids did it?”

  “Yep, they're the ones.”

  “Why? And why they'd ask for money?”

  “I don't know the full story, but here's what I think. Freddie kidnapped the girls from his ex-wife. He told the girls their mother was broke and she didn't want the girls around. I don't think that was true. He and the girls lived in his converted school bus. He had it parked on Sandpiper Key, which is close enough to tap into your Wi-Fi connection. The girls didn't have a phone so they used your internet connection to try to contact their mother. But they couldn't reach her. Thinking she needed money, they tried to get you to send it to her in Mississippi. They pretended they were hackers when, in reality, they were just girls who wanted to get back to their mother.”

  Boris nodded. “Okay, so they were just kids. But do they still have my files on their computer?”

  “No, I deleted them. The files are gone forever.”

  “Good. One more question. Why did Freddie rob our boat? How did he know we had a meeting that day and how did he know there would be money there?�
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  “I don't know. What was the meeting about?”

  “Politics. Some of my associates were deciding who we wanted on the Key West zoning board. We were raising money for his campaign. We'd each kicked in five thousand cash. Thirty thousand in all. The guy who robbed us took it all.

  “We were out in open water and only the six of us knew about the meeting. It had to be an inside job.”

  “Probably was. The person who hired Freddie, that's who you need to find.”

  Boris reached into his desk and pulled out a thick envelope. He slid it over to me. “There was a reward for finding out who robbed my boat. Looks like you earned it.”

  I didn't know what was in the envelope, but it looked like a stack of cash. I didn't pick it up. “How about you give it to the homeless shelter? They need it more than I do.”

  He shook his head. “You take it. If you want to give it to the homeless, you do it. I don't care. Just take it.”

  I didn't want to offend him, so I took the money.

  He smiled and said, “Katrina is somewhat taken with your motorhome. You want to sell it?”

  His question caught me by surprise. When I didn't immediately answer, he said, “Katrina says you're spending the night here, so think about it. Let me know your price in the morning.”

  He stood and pointed to the door. “The others are up in the big house. We should join them.”

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  That evening, after spending some time in Boris' home listening to Buck talk about our airport adventure, I retired to my motorhome and checked on Bob.

  Kat had said that while she was waiting for us at the marina, she'd made sure he had plenty of food and water. She'd also said that when she took off in the motorhome, he'd come up front and sat in the passenger seat beside her. She thought that was nice.