Hit List

51

They were halfway to the Bahamas before Faith’s copilot spotted the yellow Navaho. “Ten o’clock and maybe twelve thousand feet,” she said.

Faith retarded the throttles, and tried to keep the smaller airplane in sight. The Bahamas loomed ahead. She got on the radio and requested twelve thousand feet, then turned toward Stone, who was occupying the jump seat behind her. “We don’t have a clearance to land,” she said, “because of the hurricane.”

Stone had forgotten about the recent hurricane. He ran back to where Dino was sitting. “Get on the satphone to the head of your aviation department and tell him to call somebody at the FAA and get us permission to land, which is being denied, because of the recent hurricane. Tell them it’s a pursuit of a dangerous fugitive.”

Dino grabbed a phone and went to work.

Stone went forward to the jump seat. “Are we still with him?”

“Yes, and he won’t be able to see us. No rearview mirrors in airplanes.”

“Dino’s working on a clearance.”

“There are three airports,” Faith said, “and I think they are all up and running by now. Look, the Navaho is descending.” Then she answered a radio call. “Wow!” she said. “We’ve got clearance to land anywhere.”

“Land where the Navaho lands.”

She began to descend again. “Looks like he’s headed for Marsh Harbor,” she said.

“Drop back some more, so we can land behind him. We could lose him, if we have to go around.”

Faith followed his instructions. “All right,” she said, “this is as slow as I’m going to go; any slower, and we risk a low-altitude stall.” She swung left. “I’m going to give him more space,” she said, then after a couple of minutes she turned right again. “The instrument approach isn’t working yet, but I can use our onboard synthetic vision; that will keep us pointed at the airport, until I can see it.”

“Good,” Stone said. He picked up the Navaho again. “He’s about twelve o’clock and four or five miles.”

“Got him.”

As the Navaho slowed further, the distance between the two airplanes grew shorter. “We may have to go around,” Faith said.

“Just do your best.”

She put down some flaps and lowered the landing gear, slowing the airplane further.

“He’s over the numbers,” she said, “except there aren’t any numbers left after the storm.”

Stone let his vision wander ahead, and he was stunned by what he saw. There didn’t seem to be a building standing in the Abacos Island group.

“He’s been waved off by the tower,” she said, “climbing and turning left. Maybe he’ll try for Nassau. That’s in the best shape of the available runways.” She followed, staying at three thousand feet. Shortly, Nassau Airport appeared in the distance. Stone could see a large aircraft setting down, probably a storm-relief craft.

“We’ve got clearance to land,” Faith said. “Strap in, the runway may be bumpy.”

Stone yelled at Dino and Herbie to strap in, then did so himself. Faith turned downwind, then started a turn for the runway. The yellow Navaho was turning off the runway onto a ramp, where a police car waited.

“You deal with customs and the police,” Faith said to her copilot. I’m keeping my eyes open for the occupants of the Navaho.” She set down and slowed as fast as possible. The runway wasn’t bad, and she taxied back to the ramp.

Stone saw the Hawaiian shirt talking to the policeman on the ramp, then they gave him some papers, and he strode toward what was left of the airport buildings.

Faith came to a stop.

“Dino,” Stone shouted, “pave the way for us, will you?”

Dino unbuckled and ran forward to the door. Stone had it open the moment the engines stopped. Dino walked down the stairs waving his badge, with Stone and Herbie right behind.

“Come on,” Dino said. “I’ve borrowed us a police car and a driver.”

They piled into a battered patrol car.

“Man in a Hawaiian shirt,” Dino said.

“I saw him go into the building,” the driver said.

“Drive around to the other side, and let’s try to pick him up.”

As they emerged from behind the building, Dino spotted Sig getting into a van. “He had a vehicle waiting,” he said.

Stone was in the shotgun seat. “Please don’t lose him,” he said to the driver, sticking a hundred into the man’s shirt pocket.

The driver grinned. “Are you trying to bribe a public official?” he asked.

“I’m encouraging one,” Stone replied.

“And he is encouraged!”

Then the van was gone, lost in traffic. Stone was amazed at how much traffic there was.

“Where are the banks on the island?” Stone asked.

“Straight ahead, those that are still standing. You know, that man came in yesterday on a Hawker from Teterboro. It’s still on the ramp, and I’ll bet that when he cashes his check, or whatever, he’ll be heading back to the Hawker.”

“Then let’s go back to the airport,” Stone said. “And thank you!”

The man turned on his lights and spun the car around.

“No lights,” Stone said, and he switched them off.

“Sorry about that,” the driver said.

Traffic was still heavy, but the driver took a couple of shortcuts to get them back sooner, and shortly, they were driving onto the ramp. “There’s the Hawker taxiing,” the driver said.

“Take us to the Gulfstream, there,” Stone said, pointing. He called Faith on her phone.

“Yes?”

“Start engines, we’re following the Hawker.”

Stone gave the driver another hundred, and they hit the ground running. Soon they were taxiing, and the Hawker had taken off.

“He came from Teterboro,” Stone said to Faith. “He could be going back there.”

“He can clear customs there, or he can stop at an official arrivals airport on the way back, like Fort Pierce.”

“Do the best you can to follow him.”

“I’ve got his tail number on my traffic screen,” Faith said. “So we’ll know what he decides. Also, we’re likely to be on the same frequencies, so we may be able to hear his radio calls.” She took off and followed the Hawker. “He’s calling Miami Center. He’s been cleared direct to Richmond, which is where the Jaike Three arrival procedure starts for Teterboro.” She requested the same.

Stone had flown that arrival dozens of times; it lined up traffic and kept separation until a landing clearance had been issued, usually for runway six.

“You may as well go relax,” Faith said. “We’ve got three hours or more to go.”

Stone went back into the cabin and flopped into a seat next to Dino.

“I think we’re going to bag him,” he said. “Can you arrange a reception committee?”

“I believe I can manage that,” Dino said, and reached again for the satphone.