“This question might seem a little premature, but when we get up to
Maine, do we have a place to land this thing?”
Kaplan nodded. “There’s a regional airport in Portsmouth but that’s
several hours from Bell Harbor by car. That’s in good weather.
I checked the maps when I filed our flight plan. There’s an abandoned
military airfield ten minutes outside of Bell Harbor. I verified with
the state police that transportation will be waiting for us.”
“Did you say ‘abandoned’?”
“It’s still usable, Lee. The good thing is there’s no air traffic to
worry about because of the weather. We’ve got a pretty straight shot
all the way.”
“You mean nobody else is this crazy?”
Kaplan grinned. “Anyway, the bad news is there’s no operating tower at
the airstrip. We’ll be on our own for landing purposes, although
they’re going to put lights out for us outlining the runway.
It’s okay, I’ve gone solo like that plenty of times.”
“In weather like this?”
“Hey, there’s a first time for everything. Seriously, this plane is
solid as a rock, and the instrumentation is first-rate. We’ll be okay.”
“If you say so.”
Through several thousand feet the plane bumped and swayed sickeningly as
the snow and high winds pummeled it. One sudden blow seemed to halt the
Saab in its tracks. All on board gasped collectively as the plane
shuddered from the assault and then suddenly dropped a few hundred feet
before being hit by another gust. The aircraft turned sideways, almost
stalled and then dropped again, this time even farther. Sawyer looked
out the window. All he saw was white: snow and clouds, he really
couldn’t tell which was which. His senses of direction and elevation
were completely gone. For all he knew, terra firma was about six feet
away and coming at them way too fast. Kaplan looked over at Sawyer.
“Okay, I admit, this is pretty bad. Hang on, guys, I’m going to take us
up to ten thousand feet.
This storm system is really strong but not that deep. Let’s see if I
can get us a smoother ride.”
The next few minutes were more of the same as the plane lurched up and
down and occasionally to the side. Finally, they broke through the
cloud cover and emerged into a rapidly darkening, clear sky. Within a
minute the plane assumed a level, smooth flight pattern due north.
From a private airstrip in a rural area forty miles west of Washington,
D.C., a private jet had rocketed into the sky about twenty minutes ahead
of Sawyer and his men. Flying at thirty-two thousand feet and at over
double the speed of the Saab, the jet would arrive in Bell Harbor in
less than half the time it would take the FBI to get there.
At a few minutes past six Sidney and her father pulled in front of the
Bell Harbor Post Office. Bill Patterson went in and this time he exited
carrying a package. The Cadillac sped off. Patterson pulled open one
end of the package and peered inside. He hit the interior light so he
could see better.
Sidney looked over at him. “Well?”
“It’s a computer disk, all right.”
Sidney relaxed slightly. She reached her hand in her pocket to pull out
the paper with the password on it. Her face turned pale as her finger
probed through the large hole in her pocket and, for the first time, she
noted that the inside of her jacket, including the pocket, was slashed
open. She stopped the car and frantically searched all of her other
pockets. “Oh, my God! I don’t believe this.” She smashed her fists
into the seat. “Dammit.”
“What’s wrong, Sid?” Her father grabbed one of her hands.
She slumped back in the seat. “I had the password in my jacket.
Now it’s gone. I must’ve lost it back at the house, when that guy was
doing his best to carve me up.”
“Can’t you remember it?”
“It’s too long, Dad. All numbers.”
“And nobody else has it?”
Sidney nervously licked her lips. “Lee Sawyer does.” She automatically
checked the rearview mirror as she put the car back in gear. “I can try