Skyhook

FORTY SATURDAY, DAY 6 VALDEZ, ALASKA 3:42 P.M.

Jim Dobler’s coastal tug was closing on the Valdez dock when Scott McDermott’s Widgeon appeared overhead, maneuvering for a landing. They tied up almost simultaneously, Scott shaking his head as he alighted from the nose hatch after securing the lines.

“No ships in any direction?” April asked.

“Quite a few, actually,” he replied. “But none of them were candidates for carrying the wreckage. Whoever snatched it is probably already in port and the wreckage has been removed somewhere.”

“Can you fly me to Anchorage?” April asked.

“When?”

“Now.”

She explained the unexpected phone call from a man named Ben Cole, and the reservation she was holding on an evening flight back to Seattle.

“You’re… heading back?”

“Yes, why?” she asked, momentarily puzzled at his startled reaction.

Scott recovered and shrugged. “No reason. Just a lot happening.”

“Scott?” she probed, watching him carefully. “What are you thinking? Am I missing something?”

He laughed and tried to wave her away. “No! No, nothing.”

“Okay.”

“And yes, we can get started as soon as Jim puts some fuel in my aerospace vehicle.”

“The Widgeon is an aerospace vehicle?”

“Well, a bit on the suborbital side. Real low orbit.”

“I would think.”

He turned away, then turned back. “You… planning on coming back up sometime soon?”

“To Anchorage, you mean?”

“Wherever. Alaska.”

“Why?” April asked, suddenly understanding the uncharacteristic shyness she was misinterpreting.

“Well, you owe me a date, Miss Rosen.”

“I do?”

“I got you off that lake alive. That was the deal. And I’d like you to wear a tiny black leather miniskirt.”

“You don’t get to pick what I wear, Scott. Good grief!”

“Well, at least you’ll go out with me.”

“We’re here together right now. Can’t we consider this the date?” she asked. “After all, I just kinda spent the night with you last night.”

“Yeah, with me as your hired help. I wasn’t the dater, so it doesn’t count.”

“Dater?”

“Yes. I’m the dater, and you’re the datee.”

“Now, that’s romantic,” she said.

Jim Dobler had turned with a fuel hose in his hand headed for the Widgeon. “Did I miss something, kids?”

April inclined her head toward Scott. “How long have you known this horn dog?”

“Too long.”

“He always been like this?”

Jim chuckled. “We used to lock up our daughters and wives when he’d come to town.”

“I thought so,” April said, turning and putting a finger gently on Scott’s chest. “Get me to Anchorage, please, and we’ll arrange something next time I’m up here or you’re down there.”

“Great. By the way, a low-cut see-through blouse works really well with the miniskirt.”

“Scott! Enough?”

He winked at Jim as he turned to help him with the fueling, leaving April to her cell phone and the task of arranging the meeting in Anchorage.

The sun was on the horizon by the time the Widgeon soared over the top of the Regal Alaskan Hotel and settled smoothly onto Lake Spenard. Scott backtracked to the hotel dock and helped April out with her overnight bag and purse, then pulled himself up to the dock to stand awkwardly for a second trying to decide how to say goodbye. She suppressed a smile as she watched the process, and kept a neutral expression when he finally extended his hand to shake hers.

Instead she stepped forward and hugged him, pulling back with a smile and looking in his eyes.

“I really appreciate everything, Scott, and if that check doesn’t cover your fees, I’ll send you the difference.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“But I thank you for going above and beyond.”

She kissed him, quickly and suddenly, pulling away before he could reciprocate.

“And we’ll go on that date.”

She slung her bag onto her shoulder and waved as she found her way into the hotel and onto the front drive. April pulled the information out of her purse, matching the description of the car she was looking for with the one sitting near the entrance to the hotel and making sure the license number was the same. She walked quickly to the passenger side and got in, offering her hand to the driver, while she kept the door ajar.

“Hi. I’m April. And you’re Ben Cole?”

“Ah… yes,” Ben said with a startled expression. “I’m sorry… I didn’t see you coming until the door opened.”

“You wanted to be circumspect, and I want to be safe,” she said, her right hand firmly on the door handle. “So please don’t be insulted, but I’d like to see some identification.”

He began fishing for his wallet.

“I’m… with a company called Uniwave Industries, Ms. Rosen.” He pulled his ID badge from his shirt pocket, and then handed over his driver’s license, waiting until she handed them back. April closed the door then and nodded.

“Okay. I think you probably are who you say you are.”

He grinned. A good sign, she thought. He was in his mid to late thirties, nicely dressed and groomed, and altogether a good-looking man who would look even better with contact lenses. She was well aware that he’d been careful not to walk his eyes up and down her chest, and that restraint was appreciated. Instead, he met her gaze dead on.

“I assure you that I’m me, although quite often I’m also beside myself.”

“Yes, me too,” April chuckled. “You want to stay here, or…”

“If you don’t mind, let’s… just drive somewhere close.”

“Fine.”

He maneuvered the car out of the lot and turned northeast on Spenard.

“My dad briefed me on your call,” she said.

“Good. I understand you have a flight to catch tonight, right?”

She nodded. “In about two hours. We don’t have long.”

“Okay.” He pulled into the crowded parking lot of a restaurant called Gwennie’s, letting the motor run. He turned to begin talking at the same moment her cell phone rang. April glanced at the screen, recognizing her father’s number.

“Could you excuse me to answer this? It’s my dad.”

“Certainly. Should I step outside?”

She shook her head as she punched the button, her face hardening as she listened to Arlie’s unexplained request that she come home immediately.

“Dad, I’ll be on my way in an hour. What on earth is spooking you? Gracie said…”

She nodded in response several times before speaking again. “Look, let’s… let’s discuss this when I get home, okay? No… later, Dad. Just hang tight. Whatever’s got you worried, we’ll get past it. I love you, Dad.”

She disconnected and tried in vain to turn her full attention back to Ben Cole, but a significant portion of her mind was churning over the panic she’d just heard in his voice.

“I’m sorry. Go ahead.”

“Ms. Rosen, what I need to tell you has some big gaps in it because I am under severe legal constraints from my company because we do a lot of top secret defense work. If I cross a line and say too much, I could lose my job and go to jail, so I’ve got to be careful.”

“Okay. You’ve got me very curious.”

He looked around carefully and checked the rearview mirrors before continuing.

“You are concerned, aren’t you?” April asked, immediately chiding herself for needling him, then feeling a flash of unfocused apprehension herself.

“I have a lot at stake,” he replied. “Okay, this is what I can tell you. I’ve seen the raw radar data from the air traffic control radar station nearest to where your father went down. I have a copy of it on a CD, but it’s only for you to see, because you can’t use it in court or even admit you have it. If you can obtain the same thing directly from them, you’ll see that your father’s aircraft crossed the path of a jet Monday night just before his aircraft disappeared from radar and crashed. The jet aircraft can be seen clearly continuing on. He doesn’t.”

“Does the tape show the altitudes as well?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No. But I know for a fact that the jet was at precisely fifty feet above the water until just before its course change, and then he began climbing.”

“My dad was flying under a hundred feet.”

“I thought so.”

“What was a jet doing that low?”

“It’s… a long story, and one I absolutely cannot tell you.”

“Was this a private aircraft?”

“Uh, yes and no. It’s… a civilian aircraft, but it’s involved in some, ah, government research.”

“It’s a modified business jet, right?”

She could see the color draining from his face. “What?”

“It has a T-tail, like a Beachjet, or a Gulfstream?”

“How… I mean… maybe.”

“But I’m not supposed to know that?”

He nodded. “Look, what’s been keeping me awake at night is your father’s plight. I read the newspaper story. I know your dad said he didn’t know why his propeller broke, but that the accident stemmed from that. And I know the FAA is trying to hang him and is discounting his version.”

“They sure are. Among other things, they’re saying he was reckless and just flew it into the water, which is absurd.”

“That’s why I called. That’s why I had to call. The story I read indicated that they didn’t believe the propeller broke. But, even though I can’t prove it did, I can tell you a midair collision is a real possibility because there absolutely was another aircraft right there that night.”

April shook her head and sighed. “I went to the FAA two days later, and they told me the tapes would show nothing because their radar wouldn’t be able to see an aircraft that low. So I didn’t push.”

“Not being a pilot or a controller, Miss Rosen, I don’t know whether that was a lie or an uninformed statement.”

“April.”

“Okay, April. Frankly, the FAA may not even know what they have.”

“Tell me how you got to look at this information.”

A trapped look clouded his face and he turned away.

“Are you protecting the FAA?” April challenged.

“No.”

“Then who?”

“Me, primarily, since I can be… arrested if I say too much.”

“Arrested? How could anyone arrest you?”

“Well… when your company works for the military, there are certain projects that require a higher level of secrecy.”

“So, it’s your company or whatever government agency they’re working for that’s hiding this computer record?”

“No, no, no. They’re not hiding it. They don’t even have possession of it. It’s just that the computer record I looked at and copied for you is still in the FAA facility. I had a friend show me how to electronically sneak in the back door of their computer and get the file so I could look at it. Not change or damage it, but just… just view it, right from the database.”

“And that’s illegal, even though it’s public record?”

“Probably.”

She looked away and nibbled her lower lip for a moment. “All right, so what you’ve seen tends to establish that the planes crossed, number one, and number two, you know the jet was at my dad’s altitude, as bizarre as that seems.”

“I know that for a fact.”

“At first, we thought he might have clipped the antennas of a passing ship,” April said. “Now, I’m not so sure.”

“Hitting a ship is possible, I suppose, but if the radar target on that computer record was your dad’s plane, the most likely scenario is that he clipped the jet.”

“That could certainly break a propeller blade.”

“I would think so.”

April turned sideways in the seat to look him in the eye. “I don’t understand something, though, Ben. You say there was no data block or altitude information, and yet you know for a fact that the jet was fifty feet above the water. How?”

“I can’t—”

“Yes you can! You’ve come this far, you’ve told me this much, and I need to know. My father’s coming apart with worry down there in Washington state.”

“Look, April, please listen. My purpose was to give you and your dad the best lead I could. You have to take it from here. I can’t stand to see someone railroaded, but I’m also in serious jeopardy here if I say much more.”

“But how can I use what you’ve told me?”

“Now you know what information you need to get from them. Maybe you need a lawyer.”

“We have one, and we’re filing actions. Can you come testify if we sue the FAA?”

“Good grief, no!”

“What if we sue your company? What was the name?”

“Uniwave. They’d deny everything, and the FAA would back them up.”

“Why?”

“Well…”

“It’s some sort of secret government test, isn’t it?”

“I can’t tell you! I’ve said all I can, and… I’m beginning to think this was a dumb Boy Scout mistake.”

She reached out and touched his arm. “Okay, look. I’m sorry. I appreciate what you’ve done, and we’re not going to get you in trouble. I promise you that. I’m just very frustrated.”

“I can completely understand.”

“But, Ben… I should tell you something as well. I should tell you why I know it was a Beechjet.”

“Gulfstream,” Ben said flatly.

“Okay. A Gulfstream.”

“How can you know about the aircraft? I mean, I know it takes off in the clear from Elmendorf, but where it goes is not supposed to be public knowledge.”

She watched him in silence for a few seconds as the tumblers fell into place. She inhaled sharply. “You were aboard Monday night, weren’t you?”

“I’m sorry?”

“No, Ben, you heard me. That’s how you know the airplane was at exactly fifty feet, because you were there, right?”

He licked his lips and looked down in thought, taking a ragged breath before meeting her eyes again and nodding. “You’re spooky, lady. You know that? I’ve got a friend here who’s just about as frightening with his insights.”

“Oh?”

“Native Alaskan.” His right hand went out, palm up. “Okay, yes. I was aboard. But don’t ask! Do not ask me what I was doing on board that airplane, except my job.”

“All right. What’s important to me is that you know what you’re talking about when you say the jet was at fifty feet. Did you hear a collision?”

“Absolutely not,” he said. “I heard nothing. That does not mean we didn’t hit the prop, but I just didn’t hear anything or feel anything. In fact…”

“Sorry?”

He waved it away. “No, I can’t get into that.”

“I understand that I can’t ask what you were doing, but I do happen to know it’s some sort of low-altitude, high-speed test, and a secret government, or military, test of some sort.”

“Well, you can speculate.”

“Yes, I can. For instance, were you aboard last night’s flight, too?”

She could see his eyes flare again in surprise as he started to speak, then closed his mouth and studied her.

“How do I know that, right?” April asked.

Ben nodded.

“Because that same Gulfstream almost collided with the airplane I was in last night at about two thousand feet out over the water when it came screaming out of the restricted area.”

“I had no idea there was a near miss.”

“There was. But what I want to know is, why are they covering this up? Is the FAA responsible for keeping all this secret? Is this somehow a vendetta to get my dad, or was he just in the wrong place at the wrong time?”

Ben shifted around in the seat to see her better. “The latter, as far as I know. April, secret flights that officially don’t exist cannot be allowed to surface publicly. Therefore, if there really was an interaction between a civilian aircraft and a secret flight, the incident itself has to be officially nonexistent. I think that’s what you’re up against.”

April started to tell him about the missing wreckage, but decided to hold back for no reason she could discern.

Ben dropped her at Anchorage International’s terminal a few minutes later, bidding her goodbye with a short list of phone numbers she could use to reach him.

“You can call me anytime, but please don’t expect anything more than I’ve already told you,” he said.

April thanked him and melded into the crowd as she pulled out her cell phone and called Gracie, catching her on the way to the judge’s house.

“So, this guy was aboard the plane Monday night?” Gracie asked.

“Yes,” April replied, repeating what Cole had revealed. “But he was trying to point us to the telltale radar information. The copy he gave me is unusable as evidence.”

“Damn. April, I’m still having a lot of trouble with this. We needed a picture of a broken prop, but when you got the shots, the Coast Guard took the tape. Then you found the wreck itself, but now they’ve snatched it away, taking our best evidence with them. You said we can’t use this guy as a witness?”

“No, we’ll kill him professionally if we try.”

“Okay, but we know the FAA is withholding evidence, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then that becomes the focus, and maybe a trade. They can keep their damn little secrets if they let the captain off the hook.”