Chapter 115: Kidnapped

Friday, June 11, 1971

“Vickie! Talk to me, Sweetheart ... talk to me,” I thought back immediately as I sprang to my feet and began running towards the restrooms. Tommy, who was the only security person still with me, looked at me and knew something was wrong, so he followed.

I could feel Vickie’s panic, so I quickly scanned for the others.

“It’s them, Michael. The guys from this morning! They took Abby and Vickie!” Ileana told me.

Her words chilled me. I realized that I had made a bad mistake. After sensing no danger for the last couple of hours, I had gotten lax and failed to continue scanning as frequently as I should have. But I didn’t have time for self-recrimination at this point.

“Where? Which way did they take them?” I asked in a panicked voice.

“They were waiting on us. They busted into the women’s bathroom, snatched Vickie and Abby, and ran down the hall towards the side of the building. I think they had a car waiting on them,” Penny supplied.

I changed direction and headed for the front doors. Coming to a halt outside the front doors, I began looking for a car to borrow. Tommy, still on my heels, had figured out what I was doing.

“Follow me,” he said, leading me to the closest Sheriff’s car.

“Get in!” he said, jumping behind the wheel.

“Which way?” he asked as I closed the door.

“I think they ran out the side door. They must have had a car waiting.” I told him.

Tommy started for the corner as several Agents and deputies, their guns drawn, followed us on foot. Someone recognized Tommy and told the others. Several thought he had gone mad, and was retaliating for this morning’s suspension. However, one of them realized that something must be wrong and headed for his own patrol car.

“Michael, can you hear me?” Vickie asked in a panic.

“I’m here, sweetheart. Take a deep breath and tell me where you are,” I thought to her.

I made a snap decision and immediately tied Tommy in.

“What the fuck!” Tommy cried, swerving as he heard Penny in the background giving orders.

“Stay calm, Deputy Clark. You’ve just been sworn in to a very elite agency. We use special communications and I don’t have time to explain,” I told him.

Then to Vickie and Abby, I said, “Girls, say hello to Tommy. He just got initiated into our little troop.”

I was right. Vickie and Abby both calmed down as they began to welcome Tommy to the family. Abby actually giggled a little.

“Where are you now,” I asked.

“I don’t know Michael. They have us in the back seat, but I don’t know where we are. Hang on a minute, there’s a street sign...” she paused. She was trying to see the sign. “We’re getting on the interstate. I-610 North,” Vickie told us.

“Hang on, I gotta make a U-turn,” Tommy said. I was glad he was driving. Even with his red lights flashing, it was harrowing.

“Okay, Vickie. We’re coming. Hang in there!” I told her.

“Kip, you and Karla make sure the others are protected, especially Deedee. Penny, get me some back up. We’re following them north on I-610,” I told everyone.

“Help’s on the way, Michael,” Penny said.

“Michael, we’re getting off. No, we’re getting on I-10 now. Headed west. They’re taking us to an airport, to take us back to New Orleans. It’s Abby they want,” Vickie said in a rush.

“You get that?” I asked Tommy. He just grunted in reply, focusing on weaving in and out of the Friday night downtown traffic.

“Okay, Vickie, stay calm. We’re about a mile behind you. I need you to stay calm,” I told her.

“That’ll be West Houston. It’s a private strip and the runway is long enough for small jets,” Tommy said.

“You don’t have to talk, Mr. Tommy. You can just think and we’ll hear you,” Abby explained.

Tommy smiled and shuddered. “This is gonna take some getting used to,” he thought to himself.

“That’s okay. We’ll all be glad to help you,” Abby thought back to him.

“Oh, no. They’re ... they’re ... discussing what they are going to do to me!” I felt Vickie shudder.

“Vickie!” I shouted. “Listen to me!” but she was really beginning to panic as they discussed what they were going to enjoy doing to her once they got them on the plane.

“Victoria!” I commanded sternly.

“Yes, Master,” she replied weakly. “I’m sorry. I just got scared for a moment. Talk to Abby. She’s scared to death too, and I can barely focus on your voice right now.”

“I’m all right. Michael is coming,” she thought to Vickie with surprising confidence. Vickie seemed to calm down a little.

“What kind of car are you in?” I asked, trying to get her communicating.

“I don’t know. It’s big. And it looks like its black, but its dark out and I can’t tell for sure,” Vickie said.

“It says Impala on the dash,” Abby added.

“Good girl, Abby. Just stay calm. We’re coming,” I told her. Her description fit with the car Kip didn’t destroy this morning.

“Okay, Abby. How many men are there?” I asked her.

“There’s three, Michael. The two that grabbed us and one driving the car,” Abby explained.

“We’re passing mile marker 761. Where are you Michael?” Vickie asked with a quivering voice.

“They’re less than a mile in front of us,” Tommy said, still speaking out loud.

“Hurry, Michael,” Vickie thought.

“Penny has already notified the airport, Sweetie. The plane will never get off the ground,” I told her.

“Okay, but be careful, Michael. They’ve got guns,” Abby added.

“Tommy, kill the lights. I’ve got an idea,” I said suddenly.

As Tommy killed the emergency lights on the roof, a voice on the police radio, which we had been largely ignoring, said “Looks like I’m covering for your sorry ass again, Clark.”

Tommy looked in his rear-view mirror as he reached for the mike.

“Then kill the revolvers, Smitty. We got a kidnapping in progress and we don’t want to spook the bad guys. They’re in a black Impala about four hundred yards in front of me. They’re headed for West Houston Airport.”

“Roger that. What do you need?” Smitty asked.

“My guess is they’ll take Barker Cypress and go in the front door,” Tommy spoke into the radio. “Why don’t you take Texas Six, and head in the back way. I’ll stay with the girls.”

“Roger that,” Smitty said. “Smitty to the rescue!”

Abby giggled again at Smitty’s sign-off.

“The airport only has one wrangler and a security guard on duty. They’ve been warned and have locked themselves in the office. The wrangler reported a King Air landing right at sunset, got refueled and appeared to be waiting on someone. The pilot and another man have been standing by the plane for the last hour,” Penny reported. “We’re maybe five minutes behind you.”

“They’re going in the front way,” Tommy said as the black Impala sped past the exit for Texas Route Six. Then he relayed everything to Smitty.

“Please, Michael. Be careful,” came Catherine’s unbidden thought.

“Okay, here’s the drill, everybody. Tommy will close up and follow them in. When the car stops, I’ll take care of the kidnappers.” I thought to everyone. “I can’t do anything to risk Vickie and Abby getting hurt, so we have to wait until he puts the car in park.”

“You do realize that they’ll probably try to force a standoff, using the girls as hostages,” Tommy said.

“Did you get the firing pin fixed in your gun yet?” I asked him, changing the subject.

“No. But I have my spare with me. That was the weirdest thing, too. When I cleaned it last night, it was fine. Now, I have to take it in to be repaired. Thank god, you said something, or I might have been carrying it tonight. How did you know?” Tommy asked.

“Do you think that if the same thing happened to their guns today, that they would have them repaired by now?” I asked without answering him.

Tommy considered my question for a long moment. I could tell that it was dawning on him that it had not happened accidentally, nor only to his gun.

“Why do I get the feeling that they are suddenly outgunned?” Tommy asked with a grin.

“Welcome to the family, Tommy!” quipped Vickie. I could tell she was feeling much better now that she thought things were going to be all right.

We reached the West Houston Airport only a hundred yards behind the Impala. When we turned in behind them, they sped up, heading for the waiting plane. The propellers suddenly came to life on the aircraft as the Impala ground to a halt next to the extended stairs. I could now sense all four of the thugs from this morning as well as a fifth man, who appeared to be the pilot. This was the moment I was waiting for. I tapped the three kidnappers, then their accomplice next to the plane. I couldn’t do anything about the pilot with the propellers turning, because I couldn’t be sure what would happen with the airplane if I paralyzed him.

Smitty pulled to a halt directly in front of the King Air 100 only seconds later, and by the time Tommy and Smitty were out of their cars, it was all over.

“Cuff ‘em Tommy and then search ‘em. I know a couple of them are carrying spares,” I yelled in his ear over the roar of the propellers. “And check on the pilot.” The pilot decided he didn’t need this complication and shut down the engines, before making his way out of the plane with his hands in the air.

Meanwhile, I ran to the Impala and threw open the rear door. Vickie and Abby scrambled quickly out of the back seat, and into my arms. I stood there hugging two very relieved girls.

“I’ve got to nip this in the bud before someone gets hurt,” I thought as I made up my mind. “It looks like I need to pay a visit to Mr. Sam Dewey.”

“Are you sure they aren’t dead?” Tommy asked as he looked at the unmoving bodies.

“Yeah. I don’t want them dead just yet,” I replied. He just stared at me. A bulletproof train car, the firing pins, the talking in his head, and now four guys lying on the ground and unable to move, I could see that Tommy was having trouble digesting everything his eyes were feeding him.

Adapt and overcome. That’s what he had been taught. “Well, this may take some adapting!” he thought, as he went back to the patrol car to see how many sets of handcuffs he could find.

Smitty brought him some of the new plastic kind that came in the riot kits that the deputy’s all carried now. So while Tommy and Smitty secured the prisoners, I simply held Vickie and Abby. I overheard Smitty asking Tommy what had happened to the prisoners.

“Tell him its voodoo,” I thought to Tommy. “And it becomes a very deadly kind of voodoo, when someone messes with my family!” I added, mostly to myself.

I began to release the thugs when I heard the sirens in the distance. By the time the first police cars arrived, they were all stirring. At least as much as they could while lying face down on the tarmac with their hands cuffed behind their backs.

I don’t know which one arrived on the scene first, FBI Special Agent in Charge, Cecil Turner, or Harris County blowhard in charge, Sheriff Otis Stottlemeyer. But it was Stottlemeyer’s voice that I heard first.