Choppy Water - Stuart Woods Page 0,13

Stone said. “When you’re ready.”

10

Stone stood behind the cockpit seats; he knew the airport better than Faith. “Cross the FBO ramp, then turn left, then right. That will put us parallel to runway 4/22. The windsock favors twenty-two.”

“Got it,” she said, taxiing along beside the runway, until the taxiway came to an end with a left turn to the runway entrance.

“Announce your presence and intention,” Stone said, “but don’t use our tail number.”

Faith ran her pre-takeoff checklist, looked right and left to be sure there were no approaching aircraft, then pressed the push-to-talk button. “Aircraft entering runway 22 for takeoff. Anybody in the pattern?” She released the button and listened. No answer.

“Aircraft taking off on twenty-two,” she said, then taxied onto the runway, checked her flap settings, put on the brakes, and pushed the throttle slowly forward, holding the aircraft in place. When the gauges showed full power, she released the brakes and began her takeoff run. She watched the screen before her, which displayed a synthetic image of the runway; it showed her on the center line. Ahead and to her left, a nearly full moon was rising, illuminating the landscape remarkably well.

“Rotate,” the copilot said, and Faith pulled back on the sidestick. The aircraft left the ground and began to climb rapidly.

“Okay,” Stone said, “you can light up now.”

The copilot flipped switches and the exterior and interior lights came on. Faith turned on the autopilot.

“Call Boston Center at ten thousand feet, then we’re on our way.” Stone walked back and joined the others. The president-elect of the United States was serving drinks, and his was on the table before him. “You do good work,” he said to Holly. “We may keep you on here.”

The airplane made a turn to the right, and Stone looked forward at Faith. She gave him a thumbs-up.

“We’re on course for Naval Air Station Key West,” Stone said.

“Expect a warm reception,” Bill Wright said. “We’ve had a word with them, and they’ll have vehicles waiting to take you to your destination. Faith has probably already been cleared direct to Key West.”

“Nothing like having the way paved for you,” Stone said, taking his seat and picking up his drink.

“Stone,” Holly said, “do you really believe these people missed us because they took the wrong road?”

“Makes sense,” Stone replied. “If they’d taken the right road, they would have found a suspicious black SUV blocking the driveway at the dead end, and that would have been a tipoff, wouldn’t it?”

“I suppose it would,” she said. “I’m looking forward to being in your Key West house again.”

“It’s not bulletproof, but the place was built on the outside of the lot, around two courtyards, so there are no views of the streets or the neighbors, nor any for them of us.”

Bill Wright held up an iPad with an aerial image on it. “Is this the place?”

Stone studied the image. “That’s it. Google Earth?”

“Right.”

“Well, at least it’s a still image. Nobody can watch us having a drink around the pool. It’s also a few years old. I bought new pool furniture recently, and the old furniture is in this satshot.”

“Good to know.”

“By the way, Bill, I don’t know what your plans are for housing for your people, but one of my cars is in my hangar at Key West Airport, so you could put cots in the empty garage. Its rear entrance is off the laundry room, and there’s a full bath in there that they can use.”

“I’ll take a look. One team will be housed on the naval base, anyway. They’re already there.”

* * *

—

Holly and Viv warmed up roast chicken in the galley’s oven, then served it with rice and vegetables, while Stone retrieved a couple of bottles of good California cabernet from the wine cooler and poured them. The airplane leveled off at their assigned altitude and cruised on south through the darkness.

Looking out one of the big windows, they could see towns and villages lit up, and eventually cities, as they sped down the Eastern Seaboard at 490 knots. They picked up an offshore airway, after crossing Long Island, and got a look at the coastal cities from well out at sea.

* * *

—

Three hours and a half after takeoff, they set down on runway 9 at Naval Air Station Key West, on Boca Chica Field. Stone noticed a fire truck and other emergency vehicles parked near the end of the runway.

“Is that equipment for us?” Stone asked Bill.

“We’re carrying precious cargo,” Bill replied. “They’ll follow