Chapter 48

The TV was playing with a cheery female newscaster telling about the overnight news on a local cable channel. Another lady came on to give traffic information, followed by the weather person.

I had a headache and I had to pee really bad. Probably too much booze, but I usually don't have hangovers. It must be a combination of the wound and the booze.

I was still in my pants, so I stripped and headed to the bathroom where they had a mini coffeepot. The first thing after a big drink of water was to make coffee. I did the toilet stuff and shaved. I was considering what to do about the bandages when the coffee was ready. I took a mug into the room and sat on the couch, enjoying the coffee while I watched the news.

I suddenly remembered the airplane. I wonder what was wrong with the gear. I used my cell phone and called out to the maintenance people I had talked to yesterday. The man told me that a nut was loose on the strut and wore down one of the hydraulic hoses. They had replaced the bolt, the nut, and the hose. The aircraft owners had already paid the bill, as well as for the fuel and airport fees. The man wanted to know if they needed to prepare the airplane for takeoff. I told them to hold off as it didn't take much to get it ready. I had to do a preflight inspection anyway.

Deciding to look at the wound, I opened the bandages to look at the area. It was a little bruised, but not too ugly. There didn't appear to be any seepage around the stitches, so I left the bandages off and took a shower. It sure was sore, as were my ribs. I couldn't make any quick movements either, as every time I did, the ribs would hurt. I put the same bandage back on after applying some of the goop the nurse had given me.

I put on my last shirt, thinking I would have to either buy another, get the only other one I brought washed, or go home.

It was still before seven, so I went downstairs for a big steak and eggs breakfast, along with some biscuits and gravy. If I couldn't exercise I was going to have to watch my intake, but right now I needed the strength.

After eating, I went to the station so I could use their printer and make my calls. I had a donut and some coffee while I listened to the briefing. When the men had gone, the Chief called me to his office. He put a disc in his video machine and pushed the buttons. There was no sound, but the camera showed me on the bottom left, the seven men walking out from the hangar, and three deputies coming out from the side of the hangar at the top. The airplane was on the right of the screen.

You could see the two guys that I had supposed were bodyguards, pulling their guns and looking around. The one didn't turn completely and while he was pulling his gun, he looked back at me as I was reaching to pick up my Glock. The guy was fast as you saw his muzzle flash and me flying backward off the tow motor. Both turned and fired at the deputies, then turned back to me. I had made it back up, reached my gun, and fired at each of them, and as they were going down, I fired a second time at each of them. Both head shots. Not bad on a moving target.

The second pair had looked confused, and when I had shot the first pair, they were pulling their guns. It showed me smoothly going from the first two to the second two, just like a firing range course.

The other man, a convicted and sentenced man that we came to arrest, had pulled a gun, and when you saw my muzzle flash, he fell and rolled. When he got back to his knees and brought up his gun, you saw another muzzle flash from my gun, and you actually saw the top of his head come off, messy, not a center shot. You could see several sets of legs on the other side of airplane and several deputies running up to the downed men. One of the deputies who looked at the dead prisoner, tossed his cookies right there. At least he didn't get any on the dead guy, so the cleanup crew didn't have to smell it.

The rest of that video was our vans driving up to do the cleanup and reports.

Just as the ambulance pulled up, the video shut off.

Another video started and was from a reverse angle. The same thing, but it was clear that I had no choice but to shoot. The third was a video by a deputy with a good handheld. It showed everything and included sound. I had let out an audible "oof" when I was hit. From his angle you could see me come right up, reaching for my gun. When the video went black, it shut off.

The Chief said, "That evidence is as good as anyone will ever need. Did you hear my idiots trying to yell a warning while the bad guys are shooting? Christ, the goody two shoes in the organization are going to get us killed. You heard me this morning, reminding them to read and catch up on SOPs and your past memos on when to shoot. You made it easy, see a threatening weapon, shoot."

The clerk came to the door and said, "Deputy Johnson, John Scott is on the phone for you, he said for you to pick up now, and he emphasized now."

I smiled knowing he had just seen the video.

"Yes Sir, how may I help you?"

"You dumb shit; you didn't tell me you were the casualty. Are you all right? You took a direct hit. Did you break a rib since you obviously had a vest on, thank goodness?"

"I'm fine, John, a couple of cracked ribs."

"What about the bullet wound, how bad?"

"Who told you about that?"

"The Director of the FBI did when he handed me my set of the videos. We watched it together. I had to listen to him laughing at my deputy who didn't know enough to stay down when he was hit. I had to tell him that you were a Marine and wouldn't stay down unless you couldn't get up. He just said that he knew, he had read your file. So what about your wound, where is it?"

"The arm, the fleshy part above the elbow. The round came off the vest and went through. An old military doc and his wartime nurse repaired their first bullet wound in thirty-five years yesterday. They did a hell of a job."

"You're going home, you're wounded, injured, and should be home in bed."

"I'm not going anywhere until we have this problem under control. Let me give you my idea. Get the Director back in your office or go see him and tell him we need his help. Wherever we have a problem, assign a dual force. If we need more men, we ship some in. If we get on this immediately, we can have dual units in the field today, hunting down people. We know how to do it, let's put it in play."

"Probably better than you and me trying to handle everything. That's why you're the field boss now. I'll go talk to the Director. I'll call you back as soon as I can."

I walked back into the Chief's office and asked, "When you guys list that plane, give me a call. If I can, I'd like to have it. It's a real rat now, but it wouldn't take that much to fix it up. Those are really nice airplanes. As a matter of fact, it's what I flew up here yesterday."

"You flew yourself up here? No charter, no D.C. jet?"

"The D.C. jet is too expensive and the charter service was out of people, so I flew. It's paid off so far, as I've been able to move around really fast."

"You want that bird, you got it. I'll get a buddy of mine out at the airport to declare that thing as salvage. Get a flying mechanic to get it home and you can have it for salvage."

"Is that legal? Shouldn't it go out for bid?"

"Not this one, there are no keys, and they can't get the cabin open so they had to tow it to the salvage yard until someone tears the lock off the door, then the plane isn't airworthy."

I pulled the keys from my pocket. "I have the keys. I forgot to give them back. I took them in the first place to slow the pilot down."

"You did slow the pilot down, but I'll check with D.C. and see if I can just dump it. I'll let you know."

I went for more coffee and another of the endless supply of law enforcement donuts. The clerk said that John was on the phone.

I answered by asking, "Did he go along with you?"

"He wants you as an agent and said he'll fight me for you. Yes, he'll be sending a special secure message right now to all branches and will call the eleven branches that need special attention. Can you imagine how they will feel? The Director of FBI calling your agency. I'd shit if I didn't know him. I hope he calls the Regional offices first."

"Okay then, let's split up the offices and call them so we get the word out."

"It's already done. I had the staff here start calling them before I saw the Director. I even have two Marshals calling. You've earned another star, my man. Keep coming up with the good ideas."

"What else, is there another hot spot not related to this?"

"There is, but you can't go, I'm going and even taking my wife."

"You son-of-a-gun, what do you have, a station change in Hawaii?"

"You are sharp, aren't you? Besides, you need to get home and get to bed. You're wounded and you're injured. Tell your pilot to hurry and get you home."

"I flew myself, the charter service was short of pilots."

"You flew yourself, in that slow thing you have?"

"I used one of their turboprops. The thing will do over three hundred. Almost as fast as some of the new business jets."

John sighed, "I should have known, you're becoming too much for us. Now you're flying fast planes, pretty soon you'll be flying jets."

"I'm already taking lessons. It will be a while, but one of these days."

"Okay then, Chuck, this thing is in the works. Check with your office then get home. I've forwarded a copy of the video so you'll have your own. Pretty cool, don't you think?"

"I wish you wouldn't have. That's pretty gory stuff. It would make me worry about a person like me."

John said, "It would make me want you to be with me all the time, now go home."

"John, one more thing, the plane that was in the video we confiscated is pretty ratty. The airport towed it to their salvage area, I'd like to buy it and fix it up. Can I have it for salvage?"

"Sure, have the Station Chief fax me the numbers and I'll release it to you. Can you get it back to Florida?"

"I'll get a mechanic pilot to fly it there. The guy was going to fly it to Canada, so it should reach Florida."

"Do that now and I'll turn it around for you and get it released. You did good to ask, a lot less hassle and no questions."

I was smiling when I talked to the Station Chief. He typed up the information and both e-mailed and faxed it to John. I was talking to the clerk about the turnaround of the Bureau chief when John's fax came in with the airport federal salvage yard's telephone number.

I said goodbye to everyone and caught a ride to the airport. First thing was to put my stuff in the airplane and walk over to the salvage yard. I called the phone number John had given me and I actually heard the phone ring. A man answered and I told him who I was. "Oh yeah, you're the buyer for this junk we got in yesterday. I think the plane's in better shape than it looks. It has good rubber and the skin all looks good. It really needs a paint job. I'll bet the inside is original and is terrible."

"If you'll let me in, we'll look, I have the keys."

The man came right out. He reminded me of Hank. All business, but he loved airplanes like Hank does cars. The inside of the plane was smelly and did look nasty. I said picking up the plane's log book, "See what you can find and let's see how it starts."

There was no checklist, but I remembered it item by item. Both engines started easily and came up to power quickly. I flipped on the pressure units and air conditioner to see if it worked. Everything came on fine. The radios seemed to be working and the old instrumentation seemed to be working. All the interior lights worked and even the little fridge that you could reach from the cockpit worked. Not bad.

The salvage guy said, "He's had both engines rebuilt in the last three hundred hours. That would be your biggest expense. It looks like he's kept the plane up mechanically, but has never touched the inside. The guy was obviously a smoker, you can see ashes everywhere, that's another reason the planes so ratty. The smoke deteriorates the upholstery really fast. What are you going to do with it?"

"I'm going to get it back to Florida and fix it up. I'll order the interior and replace it myself. I'll have the folks where I'm at paint it for me. Maybe they'll paint it like the crazy plane I flew up here."

"Is that your Beech B200 King Air over there in the government slot? That plane's a hoot. I spent over an hour looking at it."

"That's the one. Perhaps they will do something for me."

"You need a certified flight mechanic?"

I nodded, "I do."

"My kid just happens to be one and is even checked out on one of these. He'll work cheap as he's saving up for his own plane. I promised him I would keep an eye out when he gets about twenty in the bank. He's not working right now because the charter service he was working for went out of business. You know where he can get a job?"

"I might, let me call."

I called the charter office and spoke to John. "Thanks for paying for the fuel, the repairs, and the fees."

"That's part of the service. Always tell us and we'll take care of you. When are you coming home?"

I'm going to leave in a while but I have some news and a question."

John said, "Question first."

"How is the company set for mechanics? I know of a young flying mechanic that's looking for a job."

"What school did he go to?"

I turned from the phone and asked, "What school did your son go to?"

"Wichita, then took the two year Cessna school and graduated in the top ten."

I repeated that to John. He said, "Bring him in and let us talk to him. We do need another man right now. We are really busy and have taken in a couple of more planes to keep. Any more and we're going to kick the helicopter boys over to the new building behind us. Steve built two more hangars and is talking another two."

"He really is big isn't he?"

"More than you would ever believe. So what's the news?"

"I bought a ratty B200 or at least I think it's a 200. It has the same engines yours does. It appears nice, sounds good, the inside stuff all works and the rubber looks new."

"How much?"

"I'll tell you about it later okay?"

"I see, okay, later."

"I'm bringing the plane along with the flight mechanic. We should be there this afternoon depending on how fast this kid can get rolling."

John asked, "How's the instrumentation?"

"It's all fairly old. I think it's all King."

"The old instrumentation isn't that bad. What else does it need?"

"It needs a paint job and an interior."

"A patch job or whole interior."

I answered, "John, I think it would be better to change it all. There were heavy smokers in it. Even some cigar butts in the back."

"If the interior is bad, you're right, replace it all. That won't be cheap, but we can order it in at cost and you can do the work."

"I can do that."

"Well, get it here and get it fixed up. We need the plane. We'll be paying you instead of the feds paying us pretty soon."

"Not hardly, not the way I'm moving around."

"See you this afternoon."

I turned to the salvage yard operator and he was smiling. "I called my kid and told him to pack everything he needed to move to Florida and could fit in a 200. He said he would be here in thirty minutes. We live just across that runway in the houses by the airport. My wife doesn't like the noise sometimes, but I love airplanes. She says I'm always a better lover if the planes are making a lot of racket, so she said she can put up with it."

Too much information, but it did make me smile.

Sure enough, a young guy came roaring up in a Jeep Wrangler. He hopped out, zipped up the top and handed his dad the keys. "I'll be up to get it as soon as I can if the job works out."

His dad said, "Check to see if you can replace it cheaper down there. If you can, I'll sell this one and you can get one without a lot of salt damage."

"Good idea, Dad."

"You got any cash?"

"You know I do. I've saved every dime I get for how long now to buy a plane. I've paid off all my student loans and I've paid you back, but I'll never be able to pay you back for what you and mom have done for me though. Let me get to Florida, get a good job and I'll bring you down for a Florida vacation."

"Not necessary, Son, but if you do, wait till January when I'm freezing my butt off. Your mom will love it. You know how she loves to parade around in her swimsuit and getting a tan."

The two shook hands and hugged. We stuffed his few belongings into the ratty plane. He stuck his nose up a little and said, "Is there any paperwork to go with this?"

I said, "There a log book but run over to that fancy 200 and get the checklists, copy them, and put mine back. Your dad and I will do the paperwork and I'll bring you the papers for the logbook. I'll register the plane down in Florida when we get home. I'll call and get some insurance on it before we leave."

The boy took off and the salvage guy and I went to his office. He was filling in information on a PC when the son came in, copied all the checklists and left. I called my insurance agent and insured the new plane, telling her the original insurance was for ferrying the plane to Florida. She said she would put a binder on it for me. I was going to worry about the money but then remembered I did have some extra now.

The salvage guy printed out a dozen sheets of paper and had me start signing. When I was done he said, "Can you write me a check or do I send it through the Marshal Service?"

"I have a check, how much should I write it for. The guy looked up a chart for the price of aluminum and said, "Since you have to haul it, make it for seven fifty."

"Huh?"

"Seven hundred and fifty dollars. That's what it's worth for scrap, unless someone wants to tear the engines out. That's more work than they are worth."

"Is that legal?"

"Damn right. I was told to get salvage out of it and I'm doing it. Just because my kid is going to fly this thing out of here, doesn't mean shit. He's flying the salvage out to be salvaged. Sounds fair to me."

I wrote the check, feeling guilty. My lucky horseshoe was lodged deep up my ass lately. After yesterday, I was feeling really lucky. Wait till the Florida Department of Revenue saw this. They would have to let me pay tax on only what I paid for it as salvage, even though it was an airplane.