Sheriff Porter
Chapter 105

Copyright© 2013 by carniegirl

Just before dark we took the Bicycle out of the bed of the truck. I checked it out and it looked fine. "Looks like you done good again, Wilson," I said.

I got on the lightweight bike and took off on the slightly over five mile run. I left the bike in the pine thicket about a hundred feet from road. It was still a hundred yard walk to the freight company's fenced building. I found a comfortable tree to lean against and wait. I waited in the bushes near the freight terminal for a few hours. Right on time at almost 4AM, the importer threw a package over the fence. The spot he chose was in line with the laser pointer I aimed at him."

I recovered the package, then placed it in the small backpack. The one I had purchased from Walmart at the same time I bought the light weight mountain bike. The five mile ride back to the grassed air strip was a piece of cake. I had found the airstrip listed on the Internet. I had also arrange for fuel and a tie down spot at the small grass airfield over the internet.

I had to open the wings in the dark but I managed to get it done. I sat in the plane until the sun came up. When it did, I pushed the plane so that it faced into the wind. The canary yellow bird stated to roll and very soon it took to the air. It had been in a very short roll out, which I found comforting on the strange field.

I flew the plane a few hours to another grassy field somewhere in the middle of Virginia. The little bird did beautifully. I found the spot easily thank thanks to the on board GPS. The system made navigation almost unnecessary. I was still thankful that it was taught at the flying school. You know if it can happen it will someday.

I wasn't at all surprised, when I looked down and saw the candy colored truck. Wilson was waiting for me at the side of the small grass field. He hadn't had to wait for sunup or me to recover the package. Since he had left as soon as he delivered the bicycle, he must have napped in the truck overnight.

He helped me secure the the airplane before we drove off to New Jersey. The drive was uneventfully, since if there was anyone we had lost them. The combination of the hand off at the docks, the bike ride along the back roads and the few hours in the air, would have left anyone confused and frustrated.

It was a few hours later that Wilson sent the man who was paying us, the GPS coordinates for a diner just off the Jersey Turnpike. They were informed of the location for the transfer thirty minutes before it was to happen. Wilson also advised him that if he was late, we were going to be out of there.

We were on our second cup of coffee when an armored car showed up. I kept my hand on the butt of the .22 mag, until I compared the driver to his photograph, The picture had been sent me by the armored car company. I delivered the package to him, then Wilson and I had dinner. It was too late to make it back that night, so we drove south till we were about two hours from the grassy field. Then checked into a motel six.

"Wilson I'm so fucking tired. How about we drive out for pizza and bring it back with a six pack of beer," I suggested.

"Yeah, that sounds good to me," he said.

During the drive to the Pizza Place Restaurant Wilson asked, "Who do you think got that $250 bike?"

"I have no idea but I left it at that grassy field in SC with a note. The note said simply 'use it in good health." I replied.

We took the pizza to the motel. There we ate it while watching TV. I just didn't feel like playing on the computer. We also went to bed early and left two beers untouched. Needless to say nothing happened between Wilson and me. It truly was as if nothing had ever happened. Which suited me just fine.

The next morning after breakfast, we drove the final two hours to the grassy strip where my plane was tied to the tie down rings buried in the ground. The guy who ran the place collected my fee for parking there over night. Wilson and I had brought five gallons of gas with us. I checked the milk bottle colored gas tanks. I could see that with the five gallons, we added, the small plane's gas tanks were almost full. I took off figuring I would need six of the ten gallons to get me home. I had never flown that plane, or any plane as much as I had in those two days. That engine had been remarkably dependable. To say that I was happy with it, would have been an understatement. I landed at my grass strip near New Wales and waited almost an hour before Wilson showed up.

"Hey Wilson are you okay?" I asked.

"Sorry I'm late, but the traffic was a bear," he said.

"Well let's get home. I want to go out to dinner," I suggested. "We haven't eaten a good meal since Monday and it's Thursday now.'

"Good can we finally go to a hotel restaurant on Jefferson Island?" Wilson asked.

"Sure why not, as long as it isn't some thing that only serves sushi or Indian. I want steak," I informed him.

"Okay the 'Steak and Rib' in the Sea Breeze Motel," Wilson said.

"Did you check to see if we had a deposit from out New Jersey friend?" I asked.

"Yes, 10K as we agreed," Wilson said. "I moved $2,500 to my account. Is that okay?"

 
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