Chapter 25
Minutes after their stop in Winnemucca, Nathan’s cell rang. It was close to 7:00 am. Harv patched it through the NavCom.
It was Stone McBride. “I’ve got the satellite intel all set up for you.”
“Great work, Dad. Thanks.”
“I’m glad to do it. When you get within one hundred miles of Malmstrom, change to this frequency and announce your call sign as Civilian Delta.” Stone rattled off the numbers and Harv programmed the frequency into the ninth preset on the NavCom unit.
“Got it,” Nathan said.
“An Air Force Black Hawk will intercept you and escort you onto the base. It would be useful if I could tell them when to expect you up there.”
“Wait one,” Harvey said and began scrolling through menus. “We’ll be crossing Interstate Ninety in approximately… four hours, assuming our fuel stop in Idaho Falls goes as expected.”
“Got it,” Stone said. “Once you’re at Malmstrom, they’ll fuel you up and give you the latest photos of the area. They’ll probably be twenty-to-thirty minutes old by then, but that’s the best they can do. Also, if anyone shows up at the location after you leave Malmstrom, they’ll radio you.”
“Perfect,” Nathan said.
“Major General Mansfield is the base commander. I told him this is a classified operation on a need-to-know basis. The number of people involved is minimal. He assured me there will be no leaks or quote, ‘heads will roll.’ Don’t take any unnecessary risks. Bridgestone isn’t worth your life, or Harvey’s.”
“Thanks for your help, Dad. I’ll call you later.”
“Be careful, Nathan.”
* * *
After a quick refuel and head call in Idaho Falls, they were on their way north again. The weather was perfect, not a cloud in the sky, and it looked good all the way to the Canadian border. Nothing was forecast for the next forty-eight hours. Nathan wondered why he hadn’t flown up this way before. It was truly beautiful territory. He made a mental note to go camping up here. River-washed valleys and rocky canyons dominated the landscape. In the distance off to the west, snowcapped peaks lined the horizon.
Harv worked the NavCom. “We’ll be coming up on Interstate Ninety in about twenty minutes. That’s a good place to call our Air Force escort.”
“Sounds good.”
“How’s the arm?” Harv asked.
“A little sore, but the bleeding has almost stopped. Thanks for the TLC, Grangeland.” She’d insisted on changing his bandages at each fuel stop.
“You’re welcome, I wish I could do more.”
“How’s our passenger doing?”
“About the same,” she said. “He’s been staring out the window the whole time.”
Not surprising, considering what lay ahead for him. One way or another, this was a one-way trip for Ernie Bridgestone.
* * *
At I-90, Harv pressed the ninth preset button for the frequency Nathan’s father had given them. He toggled the transmit trigger on the cyclic control. “This is Civilian Delta on heading zero-one-zero crossing Interstate Ninety at eight thousand five hundred.”
The response came back immediately. “Civilian Delta, squawk three-two-two-five and ident.”
Harv repeated the instructions, entered the numbers into their transponder, and pressed the ident button.
The metallic voice came back. “Civilian Delta, radar contact confirmed. Maintain current heading and speed and await further instructions.”
They flew for another ten minutes before the controller came back. “Civilian Delta, your escort is five miles at one o’clock. Maintain heading and speed. Advise upon visual contact.”
Harv repeated the instructions. “You got him yet?” he asked Nathan.
“No, but we’re closing fast. We should see him in the next minute or two.”
“There he is,” Harv said. “One o’clock high.”
Harv’s eyes were better than Nathan’s. It took him another ten seconds to find the tiny black spec. “Got him,” Nathan said.
Harv called in the visual contact and for the third time, they were told to maintain heading and speed. The black speck grew into the recognizable shape of a gray UH-60 Black Hawk. It began a sweeping 180-degree turn, dropping altitude as it formed up off their port wing.
“Impressive sight,” Harv said.
Grangeland leaned forward to look out Ernie’s window. “He’s awfully close to us,” she said.
“He’s just looking us over, making sure he likes what he sees.” Their escort was about one hundred feet away, matching airspeed and altitude. Harv gave the Air Force pilot a crisp salute, which was returned.
A different voice came through their flight helmets. “Civilian Delta, this is Air Force Escort Five. Maintain position off our starboard side.”
Harv copied the instructions.
This was the first time Nathan had ever flown in formation with another helicopter. He liked it. Forty minutes later, with Great Falls off their port side, they were approaching Malmstrom Air Force Base. Their escort handled all the radio communication with Malmstrom’s tower and they were given clearance to land. The two helicopters made a straight-in approach from the south. Malmstrom’s huge runway ran diagonally from the southwest to the northeast. They crossed it and settled into controlled hovers over a large expanse of concrete near some off-white hangar buildings. Once on the tarmac, Nathan went through the shutdown procedure, flipping switches and turning off avionics. After the engine had cooled, he shut it down. Harv opened Grangeland’s door and she climbed out, keeping her attention sharply focused on Ernie.
An Air Force sedan parked between the two helicopters and a major climbed out to meet them. The pilot’s door of their escort Black Hawk swung open and a two-star in flight fatigues began walking toward them. Major General Mansfield, no doubt about it. Out of habit, Nathan and Harv issued salutes. Mansfield, a six-footer with cropped gray hair and pronounced crow’s-feet at the edges of his hazel eyes, returned their salutes. “At ease, gentlemen. Welcome to Malmstrom.” The general introduced his aide as Major Reid and handshakes were made all around.
Nathan looked at the Black Hawk and then back to Mansfield.
Mansfield smiled. “Would you like to give her a test drive?”
The Black Hawk was significantly bigger than his own ship and far more powerful. He’d love to strap her on for a spell. “We’re in a time-critical situation, sir. May I have a rain check?”
“That’s a promise. Your father’s a good friend to the military. He fights for every red cent we get.”
Nathan nodded.
Mansfield addressed his aide. “Top off Major McBride’s fuel tanks.”
“Thank you, sir.” Nathan asked Grangeland if she’d guard their prisoner for a few minutes.
“Who’s your handcuffed passenger in the backseat?” Mansfield asked. “He doesn’t look real happy to be here.”
“For your ears only?” Nathan asked.
“My ears only.”
“Ernie Bridgestone.”
“You’re kidding. He’s been all over the news. I heard he escaped from the Fresno truck stop. That was some show. The live news clips looked like a napalm attack.” Mansfield addressed his aide. “Major Reid, you didn’t hear any of this.”
“Hear what, sir?”
