Chapter 25

“This sucks. I don’t like turning my shit over to unknown shippers and flying away to parts unknown ... Do you believe Jonathon, gunny?”

“I do not know the man. Major Hegstrom had nothing bad to say about him. So this will be your call.”

“How far back will this push my bug-out date?”

“Less than three days.”

“So how will we ID this guy?”

“Johnson said that you will recognize this person.”

“That narrows it down to a few hundred people ... Okay, I’ll do it, but I’m taking Nyota with me.”

“Actually, I prefer that you do take her. That cat looks at me like I’m lunch.”

“Would you look at this shit, girl. Can’t see much past the other end of the runway. No way I can make a VFR departure. Gonna have to file on the phone and hope I can get a release on the deck ... Nyota! Quit fucking with that cord.”

“Denver center, this is november seven zero zero charlie sierra, looking for my IFR clearance to Golf November Tango.”

“November seven zero zero charlie sierra, cleared as filed to Grants-Milan airport. Maintain eleven thousand five hundred. Expect one six thousand, five minutes after departure. Center frequency is 128.375, squawk 5224. Hold for release.”

“Departure, zero zero charlie sierra as filed, eleven point five, expect sixteen thousand in five, departure eight point three seven five. I am number one and will hold.”

“Gonna be a bumpy climb-out, girl. Ya ready?”

“Grants-Milan traffic, TBM seven zero zero charlie sierra is six northeast for landing, full stop, intercepting the RNAV for one three.”

The good doctor would be really pissed about this blind approach. Whatever. Just gotta avoid that big fucking mountain to my starboard.

“Ya know what be cool, Nyota? If civies could use GPS as principle nav-aids? That would make IFR into uncontrolled fields totally tits. What ya think, Nyota? Would you fly an approach using GPS?”

She doesn’t look convinced.

“Grants-Milan traffic, zero zero charlie sierra on one-mile final, full stop.”

Wonder if this clown is gonna be waiting, or if I will have to find him. So Jonathon says that I’ll recognize him? Fucking feebies and their weird shit. I’m betting that Jonathon is hiding something.

“Grants traffic, zero zero charlie sierra is clear active.”

Not one damn living thing out here. Not even a rabbit ... I should chock the wheels at least ... Nyota has the right idea - it’s nap time.

“Fuck!”

What the fuck is that banging on my airplane? Knocking on the hatch? Where’s my gun?

“Be cool, little girl. Stay there ... Oh shit. Double shit. Triple shit.”

“Were you asleep in there, Mark?”

“What are you doing here, Dianne?”

“Oh, Nyota! Come here, baby girl ... Hello, Mark ... Put the gun away. What is your problem?”

“You.”

“Do you see a gun on my person? Put it down. What do you expect me to do while I am holding Nyota? You are being ridiculous and paranoid.”

Look for the crazy eyes. Need to get Nyota away from her. Why the fuck is Nyota getting all fuzzy with psycho-bitch?

“Give me Nyota and get out of the airplane. Keep your hands open ... Stay here, girl.”

Traitorous little furbag. Why is she happy to see that crazy bitch?

“Coat off, drop it on the deck.”

No gun? That’s not normal for Dianne. Whatever.

“Why are you here?”

“Same reason that you are here. Do you want to see your instructions from Major Hegstrom?”

“Major Hegstrom? You know him?”

“For about nine months.”

“No longer working for the Treasury Department?”

“Yes. But, as Jonathon is, I am on detached duty.”

“I don’t know what that means. Where are these instructions I’m supposed to get?”

“In my bag. I am not supposed to provide them until we both stand down. Just calm down, Mark.”

“Why the fuck should I?”

“Jonathon predicted this as your most likely reaction to seeing me. He wanted you to be stable before we departed.”

“Be stable? Fucking spook weirdness ... So guessing that I’m gonna be your bus driver.”

“Yes, and other things that Gunny Scott and Jonathon had in mind.”

Fuck me. Why do I feel that the major, the gunny, and Jonathon are all piling on? Might as come right out and ask.

“Dianne, look at me ... Are you safe to be around?”

“Mark? Why would you ask that?”

“You tried to kill me. Why wouldn’t I ask that?”

“Why don’t we sit down for a while? Will you listen to me, Mark?”

“I dunno ... fuck it, go back aboard and sit down. Say hi to Nyota while I go through your bags.”

“ ... so, between the mild sedative and having a beer at that cop bar, I had no business going to see you, at least at that time. I am certain that I had no intention of doing any harm to you ... Mark, we were engaged. I loved you. Maybe I still do. At the same time, I was in mental disarray from the bullshit coming from my parents, which severely contradicted the State Department brief on my father. Perhaps I was drawn to you because of my mental disarray.”

“Disarray? Drawn? This some sort of mystical thing? Some religious shit?”

“Not at all. I was drawn to the one person that had seemed to love me unconditionally.”

“That was the rationale for going for your gun?”

“Call it training. Call it muscle memory. It was pure reaction. There was no thought. I saw your revolver pointed at me and I reacted.”

“Jonathon said you were sent to some feebie shrinks. Did those quacks cure your crazy?”

“There was no ‘crazy’, Mark. We did talk about you.”

“Me? Bullshit. You’re the one that went bonkers. Don’t blame me for this weird shit.”

“I am certainly not. One of the FBI psychologists wanted me to explore my relationship with you to understand what makes me feel safe.”

“More psycho-babble. Fuck the bullshit. We’re burning daylight. Where am I supposed to take ya?”

“Eureka, California.”

“No can do. Too many people there that could identify my dumb ass.”

“That is precisely the reason. This first leg will not be easy for you. It is, of sorts, a rescue mission.”

“Who’s being rescued?”

“Sandy Collins.”

Rescue Sandy from what? What the fuck is going on? Did her own father go batshit? Yeah, let’s go get little Miss Music Teacher. Shit, gotta go find that Jet-A re-fueler.

“Nick, I can’t let you get into this shit. You’re still active duty.”

“Tell him, Scotty.”

“MAG-11 detached him by order of COMNAVAIR, where he received DUINS orders, with instructions for reporting to a representative of the Justice Department.”

“I’m gonna guess that rep is you, Jonathon? And why ya want Nick in this cluster-fuck?”

“Yes, I am said representative. Master Sergeant Nick Sons is our shooter.”

“Say fuckin what!? ... Shooter?”

“Nick, you can go for it however you see fit, but I ain’t gonna do no Ruby Ridge shit.”

“Fuck you, Mark. You can just gag on my shit-stained skivvies. I’m over-watch and cover to back up your dumb ass. Nothing else.”

“And the FBI or Treasury department don’t have people that do this shit?”

“You did not brief him, Dianne?”

“Gunny Scott said to not provide particulars.”

“I did so instruct her. And I still do not want Watson to know shit. There is valid rationale for this.”

“How do we plan this shit without Mark in the loop?”

“Watson only needs to get us into the security system then into the data servers.”

“Do ya ass-bites know that Nyota and me are standing right here while all of ya are talking about us?”

“Shut up, Watson.”

“Your new design does not require a separate software download?”

“Nope. It’s not working at the OS-level. My code is embedded on the PCI board. It both steals an interrupt line and enables in-band signaling.”

“I am not an engineer, Mark.”

“Uh, we’ll have to talk about that later. Let’s get this other board installed. It’s gonna replace the SCSI controller boards on the security back-up boxes on that back rack-mount.”

Why the fuck is Jonathon my shadow? Should be the gunny. A feebie as worthless as tits on an M1 tank around this sever-farm stuff.

“It’s done. Hopefully no one fucks with the antenna wire ... Find Sandy yet?”

“No reports.”

“Let’s go to my office. I bet ya twenty that she is there.”

“That is at the opposite side of the building, Mark. We cannot get there without walking into somebody.”

“I got a different route. We go back down that passage-way. It exits to the south courtyard. Then we-enter this palace through a basement port on the southeast corner.”

“After that?”

“There’s a ladder-well that goes up the southeast corner. There’s a door that opens only a few meters from the outer office, which is where she used to work. It’s a side door to her office. The inner office was mine.”

“Lead on, Mark. If we are stopped, do not say anything. Step aside and let me proceed.”

He’s gonna ‘proceed’? What the fuck does that mean? If someone gets in my face, I may as well cap him. Fucking ‘proceed’ my ass...

“Wait, gonna turn the passage-way lights out, so we can look into the office window.”

Well, beat me with a cow turd, it’s mister ace shooter himself. Why’s this asshole standing over Sandy. Doesn’t look good. Fuck this shit, my gun is coming out. Time for the rescuing heroes to make our entrance. Drum-roll, please.

“Mark? What are you doing?”

“I’m gonna get that asshole, Jonathon...”

“You pull out that gun and I’m gonna put two or three center-mass! Mister, you still owe me a hundred bucks, asshole. I beat ya fair and square. Where’s my...”

“Shut up, Mark. Miss Collins, I am FBI Special Agent Johnson. We are here to verify your status and condition. Would you like to come with us?”

“Mark? It is so good to see you. How did you know what they are doing?”

Damn, that woman is looking good. Wait, how did I know what?

“Hey, Sandy. Know what?”

“Miss Collins, I would prefer to not have this conversation here; and Mark, I would prefer that you do not further question Sandra Collins.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever ... Ya gonna give my hundred, asshole?”

“SHUT. UP. Mark. Put these cuffs on him. We need to leave ... Over-watch Two, we have Collins, move to romeo-one. Over-watch One, status ... Roger, standby for our exit.”

“We have not been observed so far, Mark. What are you doing with his gun?”

“Taking it apart. I hate these Barretta pieces of shit. Ya know what? There’s not one good reason we couldn’t have done a new iteration of a 1911. Did you know that the exterior ballistics of a forty five at under twenty meters, when compared to the nine millimeter 120 grain...”

“Shut up. Why me, God? Please, Mark, I need you to focus.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry, Jonathon. Ya wanna go with us, Sandy?”

“Of course, Mark. It is so good to have you back. Can I get my dog?”

“Sure, where is the guy?”

“In your office.”

“Yeah? ... Hey there, Darcy. Miss me? ... Does he fly okay, Sandy?”

“He does fine in airplanes.”

“Let’s go people!”

“You want me to what!? No can do. You don’t just fly into a Marine Corps airfield uninvited.”

“One, they are expecting us. Two, we are not staying on the military airfield, but will operate out of a public airstrip to the south of the base.”

“Shit, should’ve known. Fuck, I hate the stumps. Ya couldn’t have found us a better, place? Whatever. Gonna need to stop at Sonoma County airport for fuel.”

“Dad has fuel trucks here.”

“Jet-A? or 100 avgas?”

“Not sure. Probably both, because he refuels both his Cessna and the JetRanger.”

“Okay. His people owe me one hundred. We’ll call it even.”

“Someone stiff you, Mark?”

“Yeah, this asshole owes me for a bet. Never paid up. So what are we gonna do with this dirt-bag, Jonathon? We could give him to Nick for target practice.”

“That would be for Major Hegstrom to decide. Let’s get this moving, people. We are running late.”

“Relax, Jonathon. I can’t fuel this up any faster.”

Late for what? Doubt that Jonathon has a hot date waiting. Wonder if he ever did ‘hot’ dates with his ol’ lady; does she let him cum on her tits? Do people even fuck after they have children? How do people fuck when they’re pregnant? Probably doggy-style. I wouldn’t like doggy-style all the time, can’t see the tits bounce ... Pregnant tits, milk-filled tits. That’s gotta result in a different mass distribution, probably less density forward as the tits get bigger, but still increased mass. But could be countered by increased aft mass as a pregnant woman gains weight, but that’s dorsal, so fore/aft axis effect only. I guess differential mass distribution could be countered if a guy stands vertical while banging his woman while she is prone, so being oriented ninety degrees to his normal axis would result in...

“Mark? Mark? What are you thinking about? How have you been?”

“Uh ... thinking about flight planning, watching my fuel level. Ya gotta be careful with the pumps on these Jet-A trucks. So what ya been doing?”

“I am teaching part time in Eureka, and working for my dad.”

“Yeah? Cool ... Ya know, I don’t think I’d want ya as a teacher.”

“That is awful. Why would you say that, Mark?”

“Geez, Sandy. Think about it. How would a guy be able to learn anything from a woman that looks like you? Too much of a distraction.”

“You are so sweet, Mark.”

Say what? I’m Fucking ‘sweet’? And Nick probably heard that. I’m gonna whack the boy good if he says anything to Tim or Joe.

“Watson!”

“Over here, guns.”

“Let’s get mounted up. We’re gonna meet the major in Twenty Nine Palms.”