Andrew Peterson - Forced to Kill

An hour later, they were checking into a modern condo overlooking the marina. Jeremy told them the entire area’s lodging had been sold-out since early spring. The condo project’s owner had graciously tendered his own three-bedroom unit to accommodate them. Of course, pocketing three times the normal rent might have swayed his decision a tad. The FBI had its share of faults, but a lack of resourcefulness wasn’t one of them.

The following morning broke bright and clear. Another scorcher in the works. Nathan and Harv took a twenty-minute jog around the marina. Three S ’s later and they were ready to meet old Mr. Houseboat.

Jeremy parked in a dirt lot to the east of the uncovered slips. “I’m not expecting our man to be real cooperative. The park ranger told me he was a first-class jerk.”

“He won’t be a problem,” Nathan said.

“If you say so.”

They walked across a connecting bridge onto the dock. “I might need you to play along with us. I want him to think you’re on his side, so do a little acting if we need it.”

Jeremy smiled. “Good cop, bad cop?”

“Something like that.”

At 0715 hours, most people weren’t up and around yet. They passed some buildings on the dock’s main structure that offered all kinds of recreational needs, from tackle to suntan lotion to groceries. Most of the slips hosted houseboats. A few fishermen were prepping their crafts for a day on the water. Twenty yards farther down the dock, one fellow already had his line in the water. Sitting on a metal folding chair and dressed in tan overalls, he glanced at the three of them before looking back at his bobber.

Someone was cooking bacon nearby.

The creaking planks under Nathan’s feet mixed with a newborn’s muffled cry. He didn’t know why, but the sound made him think of Holly. He kept his voice low. “This is a nice marina, not what I expected at all.”

“It’s a major hub for recreational activity.”

“I can see that.”

“I was afraid of this,” Jeremy said. “He’s not here.”

They stopped at an empty slip.

“You sure this is the one?”

“Positive. He was moored here yesterday. The bastard flew the coop. He knew we were coming. Wait… what are you smiling about?”

“Mr. Houseboat doesn’t know we have a helicopter.”

The man in tan overalls waited until the three men left the dock before pulling his cell phone.“It’s Arturo.”

“Report.”

“Three men came looking for the houseboat.”

“Describe them.”

“Two white, one Hispanic. One of the white guys was pretty big. Tall, I mean, and hard looking. The Hispanic guy was pretty tall too. I was too far away to see much detail, but the other white guy was FBI. I saw the lettering on his shirt. The two tall guys looked like government agents too.”

“Interesting.”

“I overheard them mention a helicopter. I think they’re going to look for the houseboat with it.”

“Get the tail numbers. Make sure you’re not seen following them. Park at a safe distance and use your field glasses.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And call me back immediately.”

During the drive up to the airstrip, Nathan asked Jeremy to call the park ranger and ask if the houseboat had any distinguishing features. It did. It seemed Mr. Houseboat fancied himself as something of a pirate. His party barge hosted a large Jolly Roger on the stern of the sundeck. His sundeck canopy was light blue. Shouldn’t be too hard to spot.

They lifted off just before 0800 hours.

Nathan applied power and climbed. “We’ll check the north end first and work our way south.”

Jeremy had a pair of field glasses slung around his neck. “I’ve cruised this lake many times. He’ll be hiding in one of the fingers off the main body. But when we find him, where do we land? This is pretty rugged territory.”

“If we have to,” Nathan said, “we’ll come back with a park ranger on the water.”

Nathan maintained 500 feet AGL. It gave them the most bang for the buck. Jeremy kept his eyes in the field glasses, calling out the locations of any houseboats he spotted. The north end of the lake didn’t yield their man. The few scattered houseboats beached or anchored in the inlets were all Lake Powell rentals with light burgundy canopies.

Jeremy said, “I have to admit, this is the coolest assignment I’ve had in a long time. Looking at things from above is totally different.”

Harv directed him to an inlet on the east side, but it didn’t contain any boats.

Nathan read the fuel gauges and ran a quick calculation. They had about ninety minutes left before reaching their half-hour reserve. “Harv, give Cal Black’s UNICOM a call and make sure the jet-A fuel pump is good to go. If it isn’t, we’ll need to head for Page within the next forty minutes or so.”

“You got it.” It took a minute for someone on the ground to respond with an affirmative reply. Jet-A was available 24-7.

Nathan looked at the chart on Harv’s knee board. “Let’s go directly to that long inlet on the west side. I’ve got a hunch he’s in there.”

“Heading… two-five-zero,” Harv said. “That should take us directly to the mouth of the inlet. If we find him in there, we’ll overfly his position and orbit at a distance while we decide where to land. With a little luck, we’ll be able to get close. Getting down to the water might pose a problem, though. These canyon walls are pretty steep in most places.”

Nathan said, “We didn’t check density altitude. Think we’re okay for a steep approach?”

“Shouldn’t be a problem, we’re way under gross.”

They reached the mouth of the inlet and initiated an east-west zigzag pattern, checking all the alcoves.

Several miles in, Jeremy said, “Houseboat at three o’clock. It’s got a powder-blue canopy. Could be our man.”

He turned right and flew up the canyon.

“That’s him. We’ve got a Jolly Roger on the stern.”

“I see him. He’s beached on a small island. What do you think, Harv?”

“It’s pretty narrow in there, but we should be okay. Let’s circle back to the north and come in low. I think we can set her down just south of his position. He’s gonna be pissed.”

“Screw him.”

“He might have a gun.”

“I seriously doubt he’d actually shoot, but he might wave it around. You stay on the controls after touchdown.”

“Don’t get yourself shot, partner. He’s not worth it.”

“I second that,” Jeremy added.

“I’ll be okay. I can always jump in the water if he gets trigger-happy.”

“You guys are something else. Do I want to know what you used to do for a living?”

They answered simultaneously. “No.”

He circled the ship around to the north, bleeding off altitude. “Power lines?”

“Negative,” Harv said. “We’re good.” He skimmed the south wall of the inlet by no more than thirty feet and dropped down to water level.

“Oh, man….” Jeremy said.

“You okay back there?” Harv asked.

“I think I left my stomach on the cliff.”

“The worst part’s over. Harv, you see any crossings? Cables or ropes, anything like that?”

“We’re good.”

The target LZ was straight ahead, several hundred yards distant. They were totally engulfed by the towering red walls above them. Nathan had done some confined flying before, but nothing like this. Total focus.

“It’s loud enough to wake the dead out there,” Harv said. “All this rotor noise must be reverberating like a freight train.”

Nathan concentrated on a flat spot near the middle of a rocky island and slowed his approach to twenty knots. “He definitely knows we’re here.”