The Ransom of Black Stealth One

THIRTY-FIVE

“I’m not even asking for Ullmer,” Dar said into one of the Navy’s scrambler phones. “He’s waiting for a Lear to return him to Elmira already, Abe…. Certainly I know,” he replied to the CIA Director after a pause. “In the past two days, Ben Ullmer’s had so many trained observers say they’ve seen something they couldn’t have seen, he simply doesn’t believe tonight’s sightings from a couple of frightened civilians. He believes Black Stealth One is down in the Gulf.”

It was after midnight at NAS New Orleans, and as he listened, Dar sipped his third cup of bitter coffee. He had consumed only two ales and an aperitif at Brennan’s. He would have consumed more, perhaps, had the Commander’s beeper not started the train of events that electrified Dar, made him dizzy with hope and sober with resolve as they sped back to the naval base.

He picked up his cup, but when he had it halfway to his lips, he forgot the steaming brew. “I’ll tell you why, because those two sightings were in line from Corbett’s last known course, and the time fits the parameters we know, and the descriptions fit too, if you bear in mind that they thought it was some kind of feathered monster. All of the other recent reports failed one or another of those criteria, especially the descriptions, everything from lights in the sky to little green men.

“What? I don’t know the exact number; Unruh simply told me they had logged over three hundred reports, thanks to all the media coverage.”

Now Dar had time to sip, injecting a “yes” at one point. But he kept shaking his head and finally cut in: “Ullmer says the airplane could not possibly get that far on the fuel it carries. I say it is foolhardy to underestimate what Kyle Corbett can do in an airplane….Ullmer is, naturally; but I have expertise with the man.”

Again, Dar checked his impulse toward a headlong passionate plea, loath to risk losing the support of the man who could allow or forbid his pursuit of his own daughter. Abe Randolph, he knew, mistrusted too much passion in his people.

He waited until the DCI had finished, this time. “Absolutely no personal conflict between us; none from my end, at least. I have only the highest regard for Ben Ullmer as a man and as a professional, and I will so state in writing.” Dar let his voice slide from formal tones into the more habitual way in which he spoke with Abraham Randolph. “Frankly, I’d say Ben is in mourning for that airplane of theirs. For your ears only, Abe, I think he means to resign…. No, Sheppard canceled NSA’s end of this thing because our man called the bad news in from Mazatlan; they feel, quite rightly, that they’ve lost our whole damned joint operation in Mexico, their pilot and the aircraft included. They’re just hoping the Mexican Federales don’t learn about Regocijo for a week or so. Give us all time to build a cover of plausible denials. The blunt truth is, from here on it’s purely a CIA operation—or none. I say we still have a chance.”

He sipped this time as he listened, jotting cryptic notes in his personal shorthand. Then: “I certainly have, it’s only midnight here and all I need is your blessing to proceed. And Unruh, of course, to screen any fresh reports and coordinate the possibilities with me.” Pause. “A fisherman on Matagorda Island and a teenager in his dune buggy, a few miles northwest of a coastal town called Rockport. Black Stealth One may be damaged because they both reported a hundred-foot bird practically skimming the surface. Scared the hell out of them both.”

Dar drew a long breath of relief at Randolph’s reply and began to itemize the jottings before him. “We should have a press release from your end, announcing we’ve canceled the interagency operation, which we have. Citing solid evidence that the fugitive aircraft was forced down in the Gulf. Meanwhile, I need your recommendation to the Secretary of Defense that I get every rotary-wing and hovering fixed-wing aircraft in the region. I can fly the back seat of a Harrier…. Yes, I checked, they’re right here on the base and a couple are two-seaters for training…. We fly east of San Antonio, refuel at Chase Naval Air Station nearby, and re-form before dawn in a line from Padre Island to Freer. Then we start a very slow sweep, converging toward the coast at Rockport.”

A grim smile twitched at his jaw. “Well, he can’t hide that cockpit, you saw it yourself in Elmira; it’s how we spotted him in the Gulf and I intend us to be several squadrons strong, virtually touching wingtips within a thousand feet of the ground by the end of that sweep. He won’t get past me this time, Abe.”

Dar set the empty cup down and stood up as he heard his director’s penultimate words. He replied, “If he’s flying at night, yes; I could miss him, assuming he manages to get fuel nearby. But he didn’t fly last night, and I think he could be overconfident. Say again? … I know that, Abe; I’ll be happy to resign if I’m wrong, but this time we’ll bring overwhelming force to a small area, and we can force him down by sheer numbers of hovercraft. This time,” he announced, “I’m going to get the son of a bitch.”