|
47.
Along with two dozen Navy SEALs and a San Diego City and County police SWAT team, Linsey and Jack sat in a large U.S. Navy helicopter. Not counting pilots and crew members, about 40 persons waited on board three U.S. Navy Knighthawk heavy lift choppers, most of them men. The choppers were undergoing final flight checks on a concrete runway at North Island Naval Air Station.
Jack whispered to Linsey: "This is the first time I've been in uniform since my navy days. Geez, what have I signed up for?"
"You asked for it, honey."
The ground crew waved their last signals, and the flight master pulled the door shut. The interior was air tight and heated. The crew members wore distinctive gray flight helmets and olive drab flight suits. The SEALS wore dark watch caps, Marine Corps-style fatigues with Kevlar flak jackets, and plain black combat helmets. They carried their usual variety of weapons, but each had some form of side arm and assault rifle. As a matter of routine, they handed around cylinders of dark, matte face paint. The SWAT people, which included a number of women, wore dark blue jumpsuits, Kevlar vests, web gear, and combat boots. Instead of face paint, they wore dark ski hats the left only eye and mouth holes open. They carried their police 9mm side arms and standard U.S. military M-16 assault rifles. Linsey was dressed like the SWAT people, while Jack wore his personal Glock. With them also was an official FBI camera crew of two women and one man toting lots of sophisticated, portable equipment. Navy and police personnel were purposely mixed together to develop some quick rapport on the half hour flight.
As if to complement their mission, the weather had turned raw. The heavy marine layer had suddenly rolled in, making the air gray and moist, visibility poor, and the airstream cool and damp. With a gut-wrenching twist and deafening noise, the chopper roared off the field at NAS North Island. As it rotated, Linsey saw the city skyline spin by. It looked like looming black buildings swathed in a fog of tiny dots of light.
It was late afternoon with two hours of daylight left. Louise had confided to Linsey that she didn't like the launch hour, but she didn't want to wait another day for fear the suspects at Volcan Mountain would remove the planes. More than anything else, what they were after was some residue from the cloud seeding mechanisms of those Cessnas. That clinches any doubt about the relationship between the yellow fungi, Anaconda Chemicals, and the death of people like the roofer, Hugh Milton.
Under the joint command of a Navy SEAL captain and a County Sheriff's Inspector, the flight rose up in unison. The choppers leaned nose-down toward the Pacific Ocean as they gained altitude. Approaching a cruising altitude of just over a mile, which put them above the marine layer and into bright sunshine that made the clouds below glitter like mother of pearl, the choppers headed due east in an arrowhead formation.
The team commander for their chopper was a young Navy lieutenant with a map in hand. He had a throat mike that fed into the main public address system, and with this he lectured his personnel on the mission ahead. "First thing I want to warn you about is that Volcan Mountain has a reputation for some nasty plane crashes over the years. We may run into some turbulence, because it's raining and thundering out there. That's a mountain climate that can be quite different from what you're used to on the coast. Classically, in the winter, people may be surfing and sailing in the bay, but an hour inland, where we are headed, they may be sledding and skiing. Up around Volcan there can be conflicting air masses pushing different ways. The mountain has very rugged terrain, with thick fogs, and just tends to suck planes in to their death. We'll be fine because we have experienced local pilots, and they're following all the proper safety practices. That said, let's talk about the mission."
Fifteen minutes into the flight, with I-8 a thin ribbon far below when the clouds lifted, Linsey was just beginning to soak up some of the information about how they were going to land in the middle of the runway, secure the planes, get test samples, seize this building and that, and wait for a battalion of combat Marines to arrive in trucks to take over the facility from the shock team.
An announcement came in an indistinct voice, at least from Linsey's viewpoint amid the huddled troops all around her. The team leader said, "New orders. We're turning back. Mission has been scrubbed." There was an audible sigh of disappointment from the gung-ho troops. "Sorry," the team leader said, "I don't know if it's the weather or what, but the circus is off." He turned slightly to listen to another bit of information. "Okay, rumor has it some Congressman has ordered us to stand down while an investigation goes on. Seems there has been a lawsuit filed against the task force to prevent them from employing folks like us on Anaconda Chemicals' property." He shrugged and grinned. No skin off his back.
Linsey was furious.
By the time the helicopters landed, and their teams dispersed, night had fallen. From across the harbor at NAS North Island, the city skyline looked magnificent. The green neon hexagons of the Emerald Plaza Hotel had become a signature of the skyline, amid a hazy wash of gold lights among brooding high rises. The marine layer had thinned late in the day, but now started rolling in again for a heavy morning fog.
Jack drove, and Linsey fumed in the passenger seat. "We were so close!"
"I don't understand it," Jack said as they cruised high up on the Coronado Bay Bridge. "That had to be raw politics. I can make some phone calls, Lin."
"No, better not. I'll talk with Louise first." She dialed, but ended up leaving a message on Louise's voice mail. She wondered how Louise was feeling about the news that her pet raid had been aborted. "The unknowns are probably moving the Cessnas to another state, if they haven't already."
"Not in this fog," Jack said. "And not at night."
That gave Linsey an idea. "Jack, are you game?"
"Huh?"
She explained her plan.
|