Orchid Blues (Holly Barker 2)

"He's listening to the Weather Channel," Harry said. "The seven-day forecast. I wish we knew for sure which city, and especially, which hotel."

"It's near a beach," Doug replied.

"Like half the hotels in Florida."

Ham woke up the following morning to find himself alone. When he had returned to the bunkhouse the night before, his companions and their luggage had gone.

"Hello!" a voice called from outside.

"Yeah, hello!" Ham called back.

A young man Ham had never seen before came into the barracks

carrying a cooler. "Breakfast," he said.

"Breakfast in bed?"

"If that's where you want it," the young man replied. "It's all there, what you usually have. John said to tell you you're to stay here this morning, until he sends for you."

"Something special about Saturday mornings?" Ham asked.

"Just the gun show. But you're confined to barracks until further notice." He smiled, waved and left.

Ham opened the cooler to find hot scrambled eggs and sausage, juice and a Thermos of coffee. He ate breakfast slowly, then showered and shaved and lay back down on his bunk in his shorts. He had nothing to read, no television to watch. He was bored. Then he noticed his blue suit hanging on a hook near the door. Someone must have put it there during the night, he thought. He decided to go back to sleep.

Harry was eating breakfast when Eddie waved at him and turned up the volume on the radio. Lake Winachobee was on the air again.

"Good morning," John's voice said. "This is November one, two, three, tango foxtrot. Would you please brief me for an IFR flight from Vero Beach to Miami, Opa-Locka, departing at seven p.m. local? I'll go low, six thousand." There was a wait as John listened to the forecast. "I'll file," he said, finally. "IFR, November one, two, three, tango foxtrot; I'm a PA forty-six stroke golf, departing Vero Beach at seven p.m. local, at six thousand. My route of flight will be Palm Beach, direct; destination is Opa-Locka; time en route, one hour. I have two and one-half hours of fuel. My name is John Wills, based Vero Beach, my phone number is (561) 555-0022. The airplane is white over gray; there will be four souls aboard. Under comments, note that I'll take off VFR and pick up my clearance in the air. Thanks, goodbye." He hung up and apparently left the room.

"You get all that?" Harry asked Doug, who was taking notes.

"Yep."

"Get somebody at the FAA out of his backyard pool and check out the ownership of that airplane, then check out the local phone number and the name John Wills. We're on the move."

"Hang on," Doug said, "the event isn't scheduled until Monday, and we don't know if Ham is going to be on that airplane."

"We'll find that out from a stakeout at Opa-Locka," Harry said. "We'll be following them wherever they go." He got on the phone to his office and his deputy. "Mark, I want you to get the loan of one of the DEA's tracking helicopters. I want the pilot to follow, but not interfere with, a light aircraft, a PA forty-six, whatever that is. I believe it's going to take off from a grass strip west of Vero Beach, heading for Opa-Locka, Miami, and the pilot will probably pick up an IFR clearance in the air. Tell him to listen in on Miami Center and get the squawk code that the Center assigns the airplane; that will make it easier to track. Set up a radio link with the chopper, so that we're in constant touch, and warn the pilot to be ready for the aircraft to suddenly change airports and go somewhere else. Above all, he is not to lose that airplane!"

"Got it," Mark replied.

"Next, I want you to set up a multiple-vehicle surveillance team to meet that aircraft at Opa-Locka and follow the occupants wherever they go. There should be four aboard. They're departing around seven o'clock local and should be landing in Opa-Locka an hour later, but you be ready two hours before that, and be prepared for a later landing."

"You got any idea of their destination?"

"A hotel near the beach. That's all we know."

"Anything else?"

"Yes, access the military service record of one Hamilton Barker, retired army chief master sergeant, get his photograph and try to determine if he's one of the four men aboard. I want you to photograph all four men when they land, and I'll want to see those shots the minute you take them."

"Where are you going to be?"

"I want our airplane to meet me at the Vero Beach Airport at six o'clock. I want to land ahead of the PA forty-six, and I want you to have a car there so I can run the car surveillance."

"I'll have him there."

Harry gave him the scrambled cell phone number. "Use that number when I'm on the ground. You can call me on the sat phone in the airplane. Now get going!"