Magnolia Gods (River Sunday Romance Mysteries Book 2) (31 page)

This would be like his father’s combat during the war. His father had said that when the battle started, right and wrong became irrelevant. All that mattered was winning and winning meant killing the other guy.

When Mike got to the village, night had come on, and as he drove among the fields he had to use his headlights. Strangely, the beams began to pick up large shapes along the side of the narrow roads, shapes like great rectangular boxes. As he passed the strange containers, he slowed down and began to see that the boxes were not boxes at all but huge harvesting machines, great combines with small windowed driver’s areas in the front. More than twenty of the machines were parked along the way up to the village entry, intermixed with as many flat bed trucks. Each was pulled carefully to the side of the road, the huge ribbed tractor tires perched on the sides of the ditches so as to keep the machines almost level. No men were near the machines, although the equipment appeared primed for a major harvesting effort. Some of the machines were parked so that he could see the markings, Lawson Harvesting Company, on the sides. Jesse had told him he had work in this area. Mike had not realized it was so close to the village. Mike suspected these machines were easily enough for ten or more large farms.

After he passed the last of the silent machines, he drove slowly through loblolly woods near Hobble’s village and parked in a small clearing. He shut off the engine and listened. The night was quiet. He wondered why he heard none of the usual animal and insect noises.

He left the truck and began to walk toward the village, feeling his way. He thought about a flashlight but decided that he should be more careful and not show a light until he knew what was going on. Slowly, using starlight, he felt his way along the woodland road.

Suddenly he heard a branch snap. He stopped and brought his fists up into his boxer’s stance. In the darkness he could see nothing.

“Mike, it’s me, Jesse,” came a familiar voice. Mike put down his fists and waited for Jesse to come forward. In a moment he could make out his form in the starlight.

“Relax,” said Jesse. “I’m on your side.”

“Jesse.”

“I’ve been waiting for you,” Jesse replied. “Come on. They’re all down at the creek working on the plane.”

The village was deserted as they crossed the open common in front of the silent darkened village houses.

“Where is everyone?” asked Mike. “Is Robin all right?”

Jesse nodded. “Hobble’s kid, the one with the blonde hair, well, he ratted us out, Mike.”

“When?”

“He told Bullard where the plane was,” said Jesse.

“Why?”

“Who knows why kids do anything?” Jesse said. “Anyway, he came home afterward. It didn’t take the boy long to figure out they were not the kind of people he could trust. He feels real bad about it. He came back and told his father. His father forgave him, but that didn’t help us. We decided the villagers would be safer out of here, away from the seaplane if Aviatrice tries to take it.”

“Where are they?” asked Mike.

“The villagers are staying at a farm nearby.”

Jesse smiled and said. “I figured Hobble deserved all the help I could give him. I called in my people on the radio I have in the Jeep.”

“That’s a lot for employees to do,” said Mike, sounding surprised. “They must realize the danger in this.”

“Not a man or woman declined to help,” said Jesse, pride in his voice. “Came right in here like a rescue squad. Got them assembled and marched them out.”

Jesse went on. “You ask why the kid did it. I think he thought he’d get a job from Aviatrice.”

“I can imagine how happy Bullard was to see him,” said Mike.

“They’ll come at night, I figure,” said Jesse. “That’s why we’re trying to get the plane off. Once the plane is gone the village will be all right.”

“Hobble still here?” asked Mike.

“He went with the townspeople. He left Regal to run the airplane. Robin is studying the flight controls and Jeremy is still trying to keep the plane from sinking.”

Jesse paused then added. “His father told the kid to come along with the villagers, but the boy wanted to stay and fight.”

Mike thought back to the day he had failed to fly the rescue mission. He knew how the boy felt. He knew about trying to get the record corrected. Hobble had done the right thing. He had forgiven his son. Mike had not been so fortunate. His father had said nothing, never referring again to the moment of his own son’s mistake. As a result it stayed there between the two of them, until his father’s death, and it still rotted in Mike’s brain, unresolved. Yes, Mike thought, this kid is lucky.

“Jonathan and the kid are holding a boat for us to row out to the plane.”

“You got her out into the river again?” asked Mike.

“Jeremy got her leaks stopped after a fashion,” said Jesse.

“Did you tow her up the creek enough for takeoff?” asked Mike.

“Robin did the math. We’ve got a flight path cleared,” Jesse said. He signaled to Mike to be quiet. They were moving into the cornfield that led to the river. Two figures came out of the corn.

Jonathan said from the darkness, “It’s me and the kid.”

They greeted each other and spoke in low tones.

“Who was there,” Mike asked the young man, “when you met with Aviatrice?”

The teenager’s voice shook, a far different voice from the angry one Mike had heard at the store. “I went down to River Sunday and asked around. One of their guys was in town watching the Lawson Company. He made a call and then we waited for a few hours. Finally, he took me to the Chesapeake Hotel, up to the second floor. A big security guy in camo clothes met us in the hall, looked at me for a moment and then pushed me into a room.”

“A woman was in the room, a tall mean looking person, and the security guy said to her, ‘This is the kid says he knows about the plane.’”

“That would be Jessica Veal,” said Mike.

“Yeah, he called the woman Jessica,” the kid answered. “She called him Bullard.”

“So Jessica came down here for this,” said Mike. “She doesn’t want any mistakes made.”

“They sat me down and asked me over and over about where the plane was. I remember Bullard said one time, ‘That’s how we missed it. It was under that tent all the time.’

“She said, ‘You get paid to think of these things.’

“I started to tell them about the village and that they should be careful about the people living there but Jessica didn’t want to hear. I began to realize what I was up against. She wanted to know about the diary too and what it said about a man named Wall. I told her what I remembered. She got furious. She told Bullard that if he had been doing his job this never would have happened and the plane would be taken care of long ago.”

“Then Bullard said, ‘How was I supposed to know these fanatics had the thing. That was Hiram’s job. Face it, even the Navy couldn’t find the seaplane.’

“I asked when I was going to get a job with Aviatrice?”

“Bullard looked at Veal and said, ‘We got another one to take care of.’

“I realized real quick they weren’t going to do me any favors, and I was not going to get any job. I figured out I had made a real dumb mistake coming to these people. I started to stand up to leave.”

“Bullard said, ‘Where you going, boy?’

“I didn’t even look at him. I started running. I ran right out the door before they could get to me. Outside on the porch of the hotel two other men began to chase me. Bullard called from the window upstairs, ‘Get that kid.’

“I knocked down a woman tourist and her baggage fell in front of the two men chasing me. They tripped and went down, cursing me and the tourist, who started screaming. I got away. That’s all that happened.”

“Look, son,” said Mike. “What we have to do is to correct the effect. Nothing we can do about the cause.”

“I’ll help any way I can,” the kid said.

“By the way,” said Mike. “What’s your name?”

“Jim.”

“Jim, we’ll get through this, I want you to know that.”

“Yessir.”

A distant rumble made them stop and listen. The noise grew louder and in a few moments the tassels of the corn plants were lit in sparkles of white light. Winds whirled from every direction around them.

Two big helicopters were above, searchlights circling the field. The machines slowly moved away from Mike and the others and towards the river.

“Here we go,” said Mike.

“They haven’t seen us yet or they would be coming in here,” said Jesse.

“The real worry is whether they see the seaplane,” said Mike.

“To see it, they’d have to be right on top of it,” said Jonathan. “We put that tenting over it pretty good. Looks just like the river from up above.”

“Let’s hope you’re right,” said Mike.

One helicopter rose high and its lights blinked well up into the air. As it rose Mike could see the woman in the passenger seat. Jessica Veal was talking to the pilot. The other machine landed across the field from them. The rotor wind swept the corn flat against the ground, tearing some plants out of the earth and tossing them through the air.

“Bullard came down in the first one. I can see him out there,” said Mike.

“What do you want to do, Mike?” asked Jesse.

“We’ve got to stop them,” answered Mike. “They will keep us from getting the seaplane off the creek. We have to disable them long enough to escape. I’m sure Robin has seen them come in so she’ll be ready to go when we get down there.”

Mike thought for a moment, then said, “Let’s get the one in the field.”

“They’ll have shoulder rockets,” said Jesse.

“What about the other helicopter?” asked Jonathan.

“We’ll worry about her when she comes back,” Mike said. “Jesse, take Jim and Jonathan to the other side. I’ll try to divert Bullard. Then you move in and see if you can take out the helicopter.”

“How?” asked Jesse.

“Try to start a fire near her,” said Mike. “That will delay them. They’ll have to work hard to put out the flames near all that helicopter fuel.”

“All right, “said Jesse. He reached down to his waist and pulled out an automatic pistol. “Here, Mike. Take this. You’ll need something like this to get the job done.”

Mike hefted the weapon.

“That was the Captain’s sidearm,” said Jesse. “He left it at the farm when he disappeared.”

Mike smiled as he flicked off the safety and chambered a cartridge. “I won’t disappoint the Captain. See you at the beach,” he said.

After they left Mike found an old tree at the edge of the field and climbed to a lower branch. He could see the helicopter clearly. Light was coming from the pilot’s compartment as well as the cargo area and illuminated the mashed cornstalks under the long rotor blades. These men are careless, overconfident, Mike thought. He counted five of them, outfitting themselves with weapons by the helicopter door. One had a shoulder fired rocket he was unpacking. Mike could not mistake the large man who was directing the others, even though he was dressed in camouflage and his shoulders supported several bandoliers of cartridges. Mike knew the man was Bullard.

The other helicopter came back and was hovering above and in front of Mike. Inside he saw Jessica sitting next to her copilot who was controlling the machine. She was talking into a mike and pointing at the helicopter on the ground. Bullard was adjusting his earphones and waving at her. So far so good, Mike thought. If she’s here, she hasn’t seen the seaplane yet.

Jessica ordered her machine back up and was far above Mike in a few moments. The men on the ground assembled in front of Bullard as he gave orders. Mike knew what he had to do. If he could not manage to divert the men toward his position, Jesse and the others had little chance to attack the helicopter from the other side.

One of the security men was coming directly toward Mike’s hiding spot. Mike could no longer see Bullard. Mike raised the pistol and took aim. A thought of his father flashed across his mind. His father would have described this as the moment of danger. Mike knew that after he fired, he would have no way to turn back. As his father would have said, Mike would be committed. His safety would be gone. He wondered if this was how his father felt after he launched his bombs at the Japanese? He had no fear, no trembling. He felt aware of every sense in his body and he knew what he had to do. He knew that his father must have been this way too when he went into battle. Mike slowly aimed low, not wanting to kill the man, just slow him down, just hurt him enough to make him stop in pain, just make enough noise to attract and draw the soldiers away from the machine.

He pulled slowly back on the trigger. The gun went off and the man immediately fell, holding his knee. The lights of the helicopter went off. Mike jammed the pistol in his belt and fell to the ground just as several shots ripped at the tree above him. Torn pieces of branches fell around him. He crawled into the brush behind the tree and moved slowly away from the helicopter. He could hear the men calling behind him.

“You son of a bitch. You’re going to be dead.”

Vines tore at his face as he tried to move faster. He heard more shots, then another voice, “We got one of them.” Then more shots were fired.

He heard an explosion and intense light bounced off the brush and leaves. His body was struck by the force of a strong wind. He felt the wave of heat from the white hot fire. He looked back for a moment and saw the wild flames bursting up from the helicopter. He knew Jesse and the others had done their job.

He heard thrashing in the bushes behind him. The man had almost reached Mike’s location. Then Bullard yelled, “Let him go. Come one back here and help us with the fire.” Mike heard the man curse and turn back.

He looked up. The other helicopter had stayed high. Jessica was no fool, Mike smiled. She would not know how many men she was up against. She also knew that the flames would attract outsiders. Probably every farmer in the area was calling in to the local fire department, reporting a large fire at the Tabernacle, near Magnolia Creek. The fire department trucks would come out the highway and would be followed by reporters and television cameras. Mike guessed that Jessica would stay back out of sight, that publicity was the last thing Jessica wanted, at least until she had the seaplane.