Shoot Him If He Runs (Stone Barrington 14)

“That makes a lot of sense.”

“Where could he get to in a light airplane?”

“Do you know what kind?”

“Before, he had a Cessna 182, the one he blew up.”

“Well, in a similar airplane he might have a range of five to seven hundred miles. He could go north to other islands, but it would make more sense to head for South America. You say you think you hit him?”

“I know I missed on the first shot, but the second one felt right, and I thought I saw him jerk. That was just before he flew into the clouds.”

Holly turned around and sat silently in her seat.

“What are you thinking about?”

“I’m thinking, I wonder if I can get our pilot to stop in Florida and pick up Daisy.”

“Jesus,” Stone said.

An hour into Teddy’s flight the undercast was still there, and he began to invent an instrument approach for his destination. Nevis was straight ahead, another thirty-five minutes, according to the GPS, but the tear in the right wing was getting worse, and the little aircraft kept trying to turn right. One thing he didn’t have, Teddy reflected, was a life raft, or even a life jacket. He was going to have to make land or die, and he was going to have to descend through the cloud cover without running into a mountain.

He loosened the tourniquet until the leg began to bleed again and feeling returned to his foot, then he tightened it again and concentrated on keeping the ultralight on course. Nevis grew larger on the GPS, but much more slowly than he would have liked. He created an approach waypoint three miles east of the airport; his second waypoint would be the end of runway 28. He meant to be under the clouds by the first waypoint.

Thomas drove into St. Marks airport with a wave at the guard on the gate and stopped in front of the terminal. Everybody got out of the car. The jet was nowhere to be seen.

Holly looked up to see Bill and Annie Pepper, in the company of James Tiptree, coming out of the terminal.

“We heard our Hawker talking to the tower,” Bill said. “The pilot has declared an emergency; I hope nothing is wrong with the airplane.”

“Probably not. Lance told them to declare a fuel emergency if they tried to keep the plane from landing.”

“I don’t like the look of that low overcast, either,” Bill said. “I hope to God they have an instrument approach here.”

Now two uniformed policemen came out of the terminal and marched up to them. “No airplanes landing,” one of them said, “and no airplanes taking off.”

“Oh, shut up, Harvey,” Thomas said. “These people have a private airplane coming, and it’s going to land. Sir Winston authorized it himself.”

The two policemen looked at each other and said nothing.

“Look,” Stone said, pointing. An airplane had just popped out of the clouds. “It’s a Hawker.”

They watched as the airplane touched down and taxied to the ramp. The engines were shut down, the door opened, and a pair of uniformed pilots got out.

Stone waved to them.

The two pilots walked up. “We’re looking for

Stone Barrington and Holly Barker,” one of them said.

“I’m Stone, and this is Holly,” Stone said. “This is Bill and Annie Pepper.”

“Hi, I’m Ken Smith,” the pilot said, and this is Bob Harkin, my first officer. Bob will get your luggage loaded while I see about refueling.”

Teddy descended through the undercast and, to his delight, popped out of the clouds at his first waypoint, but the tear in the wing was now a gaping hole, and he was having great difficulty flying in a straight line; he couldn’t get it to point at the runway. The ultralight was slowing down, too, and he was worried about stalling. He increased power; there was no other choice.

The drag on the right wing was moving him to the right of the airport as he approached, and he knew he would not be able to turn left without stalling. In desperation, he allowed the little plane to make a right turn, hoping to gain some ground. He made a slow 360-degree turn, and 30 degrees before he completed it, he let the craft descend toward the airport. He didn’t care if it made a runway; all he wanted was level ground.

In the end, he made a taxiway next to the runway, bounced a couple of times and was finally in control again. He taxied the length of the runway toward the hangars at the other end, then turned behind a row of them, out of sight of the tower. With luck, they wouldn’t have seen him at all.