Gray Ghost (The Bill Dix Detective Series Book 1) (24 page)

He fought to remain conscious.
Son of a bitch. My son finally came through.
An overwhelming sense of pride overcame him. It was short-lived. Shaking his head in an effort to stay awake, he noticed strike teams advancing in tight formations onto the tarmac. They broke into two lines to flank him and the jets.

He suddenly wasn’t so certain he’d make it off the island with the cocaine. It also dawned on him that he didn’t know for sure which jet actually contained the drugs. The confusion and confrontation with the remaining DOG members, and the assault from law enforcement on the airport had been too much for Calhoun to digest. He just wasn’t sure of himself at that exact moment but assumed the dope was in the jet with his son. Moving as fast as his injured leg would take him, he tried to get on the plane with his son in the pilot’s seat.

A paid-for-hire mercenary pilot, one used several times by Calhoun over the years, was making last minute preparations to taxi and take off in the other jet. As Calhoun had planned, one of the strike teams broke containment in an attempt to intercept the decoy jet. Calhoun chuckled and wondered how the advancing team intended to stop a jet while they were on foot.

The second team leader noticed the split in forces, and they moved forward as if to stop the second plane. Calhoun watched now as a few light Jeeps and trucks filled with snipers roared onto the tarmac. He had not prepared for this. Several loud shots echoed from a higher location as bits of asphalt exploded near the wheels of the jet.

Calhoun’s leg throbbed. The wound was pretty bad, and he was functioning on pure adrenaline dragging his leg to make it to the plane.

The mercenary pilot changed course to avoid the bullets and tried to take off. Officers converged on foot and in vehicles. Law enforcement personnel surrounded the small airport and continued to add to the firefight.

As Calhoun pulled himself up into the cockpit, his son shot him a look. “You have to your promise that we’ll keep the business going, with me in charge.”

Calhoun was not in the mood to negotiate. He scowled. “You can take over the business. I’m done. Just get me the hell out of here.” A loud explosion rocked the decoy jet. A fireball larger than he had ever seen rose from the tarmac, and he felt the intense heat and noticed the law enforcement people could not move forward. The decoy jet lay shattered and split in half from the explosion. It was engulfed in flames and blocking part of the runway.

“
Dammit, we’ll have to get around that plane,” Junior shouted.

Calhoun looked at the kid. “Whatever it takes. These guys mean business. Get us out of here, now.”

His son maneuvered the jet onto the main runway. He increased speed to get the jet off the ground. Dodging debris was proving to be a problem and it made it difficult getting up to speed.

Calhoun wore a grim smile. From the cockpit window, he noticed the blast from the other jet had disabled two law enforcement vehicles.

He counted several more men and one tiny Jeep converging on them. They were close enough for him to read their jackets. He saw several federal agencies were involved, which caused him a great deal of concern. Their involvement meant they had concrete evidence against him. He had no way of knowing how they’d obtained it.

Nevertheless, he was confident they were mere yards from taking to the air. If they didn’t make it, he’d already decided he wouldn’t go to prison. He’d commit suicide first. He watched the driver of the utility vehicle miscalculate how much room he needed to negotiate the new crater in the runway. The right front wheel caught the lip causing the Jeep to roll. Bodies flew.
Oh well
,
just more collateral damage,
thought Calhoun.

Calhoun watched as his son finished the short taxi and turned the nose of the jet toward freedom. The plane was now taking rounds from advancing law enforcement. The seats and other material within the plane exploded as bullets ripped through the fuselage. Calhoun wondered if the plane would hold together even if they could get it airborne.

The runway was littered with debris, but his son found enough room to maneuver the jet. Continual smaller explosions from flash bangs and hand grenades lobbed at the fleeing jet filled the area.

All the guys I hired for this operation were imbeciles. None of them could be trusted.
Calhoun began to think he’d have to put a bullet in his own head. It was his fault for trusting others to carry out his plans.

* * * *

As the intensity of the flames from the burning jet dissipated, the first strike team converged on it with the airport’s lone fire truck. At best, the scene could have been described as utter pandemonium.

Petersen focused on the second jet and pointed. “I see two men, one looks like Calhoun and one who looks like that assistant he brought. They’re both in the cockpit.”

Dix ran in the general direction of the occupied jet and noticed a small Jeep barreling toward him to his right. Petersen ran close behind.

As the vehicle skidded to a stop in front of them, Dix and Petersen jumped in.

Dix grinned at Roger, who was seated in the driver’s seat. “Where the heck did you get this thing?”

“
Snagged it near a gift shop after I got my bearings back.

Now, let’s get this bastard.”

Dix had feared Roger might have been killed in the earlier blast at the storage facility and was happy to see him alive.

More fire trucks from the city and ambulances arrived at the airport. Nevertheless, the few local Bahamian resources were quickly depleted.

Dix turned to Roger. “Keep the jet from getting into the air. Pull in front of it. Do whatever you have to do, but that bird isn’t flying today.”

Roger stepped on the accelerator, and the Jeep’s engine roared to life. Dix asked Petersen if he had a phone. Petersen tossed his to Dix, and he speed dialed Wilfred, who picked up on the first ring.

“
Where’s Bubba?”

“
Working on a Plan B,” Wilfred yelled. His excitement came through in his voice.

Dix wasn’t sure what Plan B was. He hoped whatever it was, it would happen soon.

“
Wilfred, whatever you guys came up with, act now! We need the jet disabled. Petersen, Roger, and I are on the tarmac headed right for it.” A loud boom caused Dix to drop the phone. He frantically grabbed for it as it bounced on the floorboard of the Jeep. “We’re in the small Jeep headed right at the jet. We may not be able to keep the plane from taking off but we’re gonna try.”

“
Here comes Bubba. He’s in a huge Peterbilt Truck.” The line went dead.

Roger spotted the crater created when the DOG SUV had blown up. He tried to miss it, but the front tire caught as he was checking out the dump truck. The Jeep rolled one time and ended right side up, but all three occupants were ejected.

Roger’s left leg had a nasty gash, and he was losing a lot of blood. He was unconscious but still breathing. Dix checked himself and realized he’d probably broken his left arm. The pain in his chest indicated some broken ribs as well. He could taste blood in his mouth. He looked for his partner. Petersen was walking off to his left and appeared relatively unscathed. In the distance behind Petersen, Dix spotted two Stingray Coast Guard helicopters heading toward them. The excitement was getting out of hand.

Petersen looked at Dix and started to run his way. Dix yelled “Are you all right?”

“
I feel fine. I must be the luckiest son of a bitch in the world right now. You okay?”

“
A couple broken bones, but nothing serious. Roger’s hurt bad.”

Petersen assessed the situation. “We need to get him out of here ASAP or he could bleed out.”

Dix pointed at the Jeep. “You think it’s operational?”

“
Only one way to find out.”

“
Get Roger in it, and get him to the hospital.”

“
Bill, you’re hurt. He’s hurt. Get in the damn Jeep so I can take you both to the hospital.”

Dix shook his head. He had a score to settle. “I outrank you and order you to get that man to the hospital.”

The jet had positioned itself at the end of the runway and began to accelerate for takeoff.

A few DEA and FBI agents fired rounds at the wheels. Others screamed on their radios for more backup. Calhoun fired suppression rounds from a window already shattered from law enforcement fire.

Dix was feeling weak and his vision had begun to blur. He wanted to take Calhoun into custody in person but knew his body wouldn’t allow it.
Not this time.

An international criminal and political catastrophe were unfolding right in front of him, and he was unable to stop it. He’d experienced defeat before, but this was personal.

The Coast Guard helicopters had arrived overhead and tried to prevent the plane from taking off by getting low. Dix thought he saw a bright light and what he thought was a smile on Petersen’s face as he fell to the ground. Then he lost consciousness.

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

Dix opened his eyes and instantly knew where he was. The sounds, smells, and bed always felt the same. He glanced around the hospital room and spotted balloons and flowers. A stack of envelopes sat on the bedside table… get well cards. To his right, Roger sat, propped up with several pillows watching the television.

“
I’m glad to see you made it, Roger. You didn’t look so good out there on the runway.” Dix grinned.

Roger chuckled and then grimaced. “Look who’s talking. I’m quite well. They saved my leg, but I’ll be here for a while. We can spend some quality time together.”

Dix started to laugh but felt a sharp pain in his side. His left arm was immobilized in a cast, and his vision was still a little blurred. He had the mother of all headaches. But he was alive and stable. He knew he’d eventually walk away from yet another serious injury.
Well, I managed to make it through another battle.

He was thankful to be alive, but the positive thoughts didn’t last very long. He assumed Calhoun had slipped away or was dead. All the planning and cooperation from so many agencies and they couldn’t snare one guy.
What a joke
.
A very bad one.

Not really wanting to ask, but knowing he had to, he said, “Roger, what happened to that bastard, Calhoun?”

Roger wrinkled his forehead. “I haven’t heard a word. When they brought me in, I was out cold just like you. I came out of surgery before you, but the sedatives and painkillers they used were pretty strong. Petersen’s been here checking on you almost every hour. He just left to get a bite to eat. I’m sure he’ll know.”

Dix realized what a great partner Petersen was. He decided to take it a little easier on him from now on. He felt some remorse about teasing him about his ex-wife.
Steve deserves to be happy.

Twenty minutes passed, and Petersen still hadn’t returned. Dix grew anxious. He needed to know what had happened at the airport. If it hadn’t been for the cast on his left arm and all the tubes and wires hooked up to him, he’d have left to track Petersen down himself.

Then he realized the story would surely be on the television.

He looked at his roommate. “Hey, can you change the channel to the local news?”

“
This silly television only gets
The Price is Right
and
Golden Girls
. Sorry, mon.”

“
Great. I’m stuck on an island with two TV channels. This is killing me. Which one of these buttons will bring a nurse?”

“
Hit the red one, but before you do, I’ll clue you in. The lady who’ll show up isn’t pleasant, just so you know.” Roger grinned.

Dix hit the button about ten times anyway. He dared some nurse to give him any problems right now. He was in pain and wanted questions answered.

The door to their room opened. Petersen strolled in with a grin on his face. He walked directly to Dix’s bed.

“
Hey pal, how are you?”

“
Man, I’m glad to see you. I assume you got me and Roger here. I owe you my life now, but don’t let it go to your head.”

Petersen chuckled. “Yep, judging by that attitude, you’re closer to a full recovery already.”

“
All kidding aside, Steve, thank you for taking care of me and Roger. I’m sorry I mess with you so much.”

Petersen shrugged. “You’d have done the same for us. I don’t like sentimental crap. I prefer grumpy Bill Dix. How come you haven’t asked me what finally happened on the tarmac?”

“
I was getting to that, but I’d better lie down. I feel a little light headed. While I suffer, could you fill me in?”

Petersen pulled up a chair close beside the bed. “I dragged you and Roger in the Jeep. It wasn’t easy, and I wasn’t in the best of shape either. But I managed. As I raced toward the closest hospital, Calhoun’s jet was about to take off. The runway was filled with debris, but it looked like they might make it.”