Chapter 42

They'd been in the air, E'veen leading, less than 10 minutes, when she made a 180. Although he couldn't hear her communications with Pounds, he decided she was declaring an 'in-flight emergency'. She wasn't. The Lysander didn't have the most up to date radios, so, when his cellphone rang it was the Pounds tower.

"Sutherland."

"Bill?"

"Yup, who dis?"

"Pounds tower."

"She has an in-flight emergency?"

"No ... just come on back."

They landed.

"I want to talk to Alice." E'veen told Bill. So ... another call, another driver picking them up ... another trip to Tyler. Alice was still knitting.

"Alice? Can I talk to you?"

"Sure, Honey ... what do you need?"

"Privately?"

Alice handed Bill her knitting... "Mind the desk."

"What if something happens?"

"Nothing will happen."

Not that the denial did Bill a speck of good, but he sat there and tried to look official. The escaped prisoner detail, older men every one, walked in, and laughed at Bill and the knitting.

"Well?" asked Bill. "Did you get him?"

"Yes. Exactly where you said he'd be. Back road to Dallas. We took a beatup truck from the impound lot, loaded some irrigation pipe and drove out. He never thought a thing of it when I pushed back my straw hat and asked him what he thought he was doing.

"He got out of the car and walked over ... I slammed open the door. Down he went and 'the irrigation crew' had him cuffed in a second" He grinned..."You take over for Alice?"

"She's talking to E'veen. Nope ... here she is."

Bill knew better than to ask ... girl talk.

On the way back to Pounds Field. E'veen mentioned to Bill that they seem to be going to Pounds a lot. Bill agreed. Then he was worried about the spats and floats and mentioned that ... but E'veen suggested that she had that covered but they'd have to leave the wing tanks. unless she could figure out a way to stuff them in the Cessna.

"Empty, they're pretty light. I don't think they'll fit in the Lysander bomb bay But they could be strapped down in the 182."

"Why not put them back on the wings?"

"The floats go on the tank mounts." She smiled, "If the Park Service got everything for the floats they got the transport mounts. If they lied then we'll have to make the mounts."

"Otherwise," Bill commented, "we'll have to ship them by truck."

They hadn't been paying a lick of attention to where they were, but the Pounds Field gate was rolling back and they were soon heading for the rebuild and restoration hangar. The Cessna and Lysander were both sitting out on the hard. Someone had been nice. Better yet, the C-130 was just taxiing up to the military display. John!

'I wonder if he'd heard about the transfer?' thought Bill.

There was the normal on the ground procedure but it was soon over and the Tyler AIC hiked over to the rebuild hangar along with the C-130 crew chief and confronted Bill and E'veen.

He had heard. Shaking Bill's hand, he said, "wonderful stunt you pulled getting the blond to Dallas, I heard all about it. Hell, it's the talk of the service."

He looked at E'veen and hugged her. "Your shooting expertise has Washington sending new directives right, left and center. Two hand holds are all well and good, but now we all have to learn both right and left hand shooting.

"A deputy might be in a situation and unable to shoot dominant hand. If you can at least hit something with the off hand ... it's better than getting shot because you can't." John smiled, "I'm pretty damn proud of you both.

"I'm pissed too." His face changed from smiling to frowning in an instant. "What's this I hear about Alabama? Deserting me in my hour of need?"

"Hold that thought," asked Bill. He turned to the crew chief, shook his hand and asked, "wanna make a delivery?"

"I should smile ... the Colonel sent me over to thank you," he beamed at E'veen. "You saved our asses out there." Back to Bill again, "What do you need hauled?"

"These pontoons, or the spare tanks and those damn spats ... or all of it. You choose." Bill grinned at E'veen.

She said, "I take back every mean thing I ever said about you Bill. You're a genius."

Bill clutched at his heart and pretended to swoon.

"Quit it, Bill ... before I change my mind." She gave Sergeant Murphy her attention. "Is your Colonel in a hurry?"

"Nope ... he's planning to check out the aircraft on loan here. 'I'm going to fly them.' he said." Sarge continued, "I'm not sure if it's orders or playtime, but they're all going up this weekend, what help can I give you?"

"See if you can figure out how these pontoons go on, please. I need to chat with my boss." She paused, "there's manuals for everything in the dash box. It might make it simpler."

"Hell, missy, I'm a man ... we don't need no damn directions." Then he broke up at her look.

"Yeah, Right." She turned to John. "You gotta understand ... I'm with him," she pointed at Bill. "If he wants to stay here, I do, too. But, I'm going with him." She stepped up to Bill, put her arm through his and rubbed her right boob on his arm.

That got a look from the AIC ... and the crew chief.

"Ya know, John ... I like it here ... but I got to take my sisters Cessna back to Auburn ... or buy her another. What is there in confiscated aircraft?"

"Take your plane back, take a week. How do you plan to get back?"

"As soon as I have a chat with the curator, I'll either fly or drive." Bill was in a much better mood. A place for some of his better ideas.

"I'll tell Alice to put you back on the books. See you in a week ... and thanks for choosing Tyler."

The station driver loaded up the boss, drove over to the 130 and the three deputies who went down to Johnson, loaded them and left.

"You have an evil grin, what's up?" E'veen said.

"Let's go talk to the curator. I have a better idea." They grabbed the golf cart, cleared it with the tower and hot-rodded over to Museum