Criminal Mischief

33

Stone looked out the window. “Is it my imagination, or is the weather letting up?”

“It’s not your imagination,” Dino said. “I can see the outline of the terminal across the way.”

“I think I can see the fuel truck,” Stone said, straining to see.

“I’m here,” a voice said.

Stone turned and looked. “Hello, Margot.” Felix trotted over and nudged him for a cookie. “Hi, Felix,” Stone said, supplying the treat.

“Where’s my luggage?”

“In that pile over there,” he said, pointing.

“Not aboard the airplane?”

“We don’t have an airplane yet.”

“Stone,” Dino said. “Look across the way.”

Stone looked out across the runway and could clearly see the terminal building and the fuel truck on the ramp. What he could not see clearly was a G-500. Then a faint rumble turned into a roar and the G-500 came tearing down the runway and lifted off. He turned and looked at the radar display behind the counter. They were on the rear edge of a big area of yellow and red precipitation. “Shit!” he cried. “He must have taxied when the weather started to lift. He was just sitting there, at the end of the runway, waiting for takeoff visibility!”

“That seems like a logically accurate assumption,” Dino observed, “especially the part about taking off, since we just saw it happen.”

Stone called the satphone on his airplane, and it rang and rang but was not answered. Then, as he watched, his Gulfstream set gently down on the runway and turned off toward the FBO.

“And that would appear to be your airplane,” Dino said.

They watched as it taxied toward them on the ramp, then turned 180 degrees. Linemen went out and chocked the wheels, and the airstairs door opened.

“Look who’s here,” Stone said, as Brio Ness emerged, briefcase in hand.

“Get it refueled,” Stone said to Faith. “And lock the doors so Ness and her people can’t get back aboard. And get your people out there and start your preflight.”

Special Agent Ness entered the FBO and looked around. “Is there such a thing as a drink around here?” she asked nobody in particular.

“At nine in the morning?” Stone asked. “The watercooler is over there.”

She went and drank two cups of water, then looked out the window toward the main terminal. A sunbeam illuminated it. “Where’s Zanian’s airplane?” she demanded.

“It took off about ten minutes ago,” Stone said. “It was quite a sight. I’m sorry you missed it.”

“How could he do that?”

“He simply waited for the weather to lift, then did it.”

“Where’s he bound for?”

Stone turned to Margot. “Any info on that?” he asked.

“Viktor said he was going to Acapulco.”

“Yeah,” Dino cut in, “that’s what he said before he flew to Honolulu.”

Ness had collapsed into a chair and was shouting into her cell phone. She hung up and looked at Stone. “I want a lift to Acapulco,” she said.

“Not until I have it in writing from you that I am entitled to the ten-million-dollar reward,” he said.

“But I haven’t captured him.”

“Not my fault,” Stone said. “I told you, correctly, where to find him, but you didn’t act quickly enough.”

“We couldn’t land in that weather! My pilot said you don’t have auto-land.”

“I don’t believe there is a weather limitation on the reward,” Stone said. “Let’s have it, and on the Bureau’s letterhead.”

“I’ll commandeer your airplane again!”

“Sure. Show me the court order.”

She looked at her watch. “The courts won’t open...”

“I’ll settle for the letter from you confirming that I get the reward.”

“No.”

“The papers will love this,” Stone said. “I can see the headline: FBI SPECIAL AGENT NESS (NO RELATION) FUCKS UP ZANIAN ARREST IN HAWAII!!!”

“No, no, no!”

“Or you can give me the letter, and I’ll fly you to Acapulco.”

She opened her briefcase, fished out a sheet of stationery and began to write.

“There’s a computer over there on the counter. Write it there and use their printer,” Stone said.

“You’re welcome to my computer,” the manager said, “and our printer is color. Is Microsoft Word okay?”

“Okay,” Ness said. She walked across the room, sat down at the desk, and began to type, while Stone looked over her shoulder and made suggestions about the wording. She used the print button.

“There you go,” Ness said.

“Just sign it,” Stone said, offering his pen. “And with your own name, not Amelia Earhart’s.”

She signed it and handed it to him. Stone read it again, folded it neatly, and handed it to Dino. “Witness that,” he said, “then guard it with your dear life.”

“Nah, I’m a party to it.” He got the FBO manager to witness it, then put it into his inside jacket pocket. “The letter is now witnessed and in the custody of the NYPD.”

“How much longer to refuel?” Stone asked Faith.

“Twenty minutes, or so. They didn’t use all that much.”

“File for Acapulco,” he said, “then unlock the doors.”

She sent someone out with the key, then got on the phone.

“Okay,” Stone said to the rest of the crew. “Get the luggage aboard, including Special Agent Ness’s, and prepare the cabin for takeoff.” They sprang into action, more or less.

“Can I take my SWAT team?” Ness asked.

“Order one up in Acapulco,” Stone said. “They speak the language.”

Half an hour later, they were taxiing.

They had been in the air for twenty minutes when Faith called on the intercom. “They’ve changed their destination to Oakland.”

“Change our destination to our final,” Stone said, then hung up.

Ness looked worried. “What is your final destination?” she asked.

“Well, since they’re not going to Acapulco, there’s no point in landing there, is there? Change your SWAT team to Oakland.”

“What if they change it again?”

“Then you can change your SWAT team again. Meantime, our final destination is Teterboro, New Jersey.”

“New York?”

“After a bit of a drive.”

“Oh, what the hell,” she said.