Joy Takes Flight (9 page)

“Stop!” Kate shouted, realizing George wouldn't listen to her. She reached for her pack, but Angel was lying on it. She shoved the dog aside. Angel leaped off the seat and stood between Kate and the men, her hackles raised and teeth bared.

The prisoner jerked hard on the chain and Ted went limp. Was he dead? Kate's hands shook as she fumbled through her pack. Where was the revolver?

George grabbed Ted's gun, and standing hunched over in the crowded space, he pointed it at her. “Set the plane down.”

With a deep-throated growl, Angel moved toward George.

“Shut that dog up.” He turned the gun on Angel.

No. Not Angel!
Kate rested a hand on her dog. “It's all right, girl. Calm down.” Trying to keep her hand from shaking, she stroked the dog. “There's no place to land here.”

“South of town. I got a ride waiting.” He snickered.

Kate stayed on course. If she landed, he'd almost certainly kill her.

“Do it!” he shouted. Then, his voice low and menacing, he added, “You wouldn't want your dog hurt, now do you?” He laughed.

‘Okay. I'll land.” Kate turned back toward Unalakleet. She had to do something. The plane dropped into an air pocket.

“Hey. No funny business.” He pointed the gun at her. “You try anything and I'll shoot you.”

“You won't do that. You need me to fly the plane.” Kate figured he must not be very intelligent to think shooting her would help him. Maybe she could outmaneuver him.

“I don't have to kill you, just make you suffer a little.” He laughed, then turned the gun on Angel. “Figure this dog is pretty important to you. It'd be easy to put a slug in her.”

“I'm doing what you asked. We hit an air pocket. It happens all the time.” Her mind churned with ideas. How could she get her gun without him shooting her or Angel? She glanced at her bag, then at the prisoner. He kept looking out a window, but she knew the moment she reached for the bag, he'd be on her.
A lot of good target practice did me.

When Unalakleet came into view, he said, “Head east of town. There's a spot. You'll see it.”

Kate made a wide swing around the town. If she could knock him off his feet, she might have time to get her pistol. She'd have only one chance. Her heart battered her ribs. She was gripping the control wheel, but loosened her hold to give her a better feel of the plane.

George was still standing and gazing out the window.

Lord, I need you . . . now.
Kate pulled back sharply on the control wheel while increasing speed. The plane moved into a steep climb and she banked hard to the right.

G
eorge stumbled back and fell over one of the seats, a string of oaths flying from his mouth.

With a vicious growl, Angel jumped on him and ripped into his coat. With a big beefy arm, he knocked the dog into the back. Angel yelped and then didn't move. Kate felt sick. What had he done?

While bringing the plane back to level, she fumbled for her pistol, then pointed it at George. She pulled back the hammer. “Stay where you are,” she shouted. Her insides quaked, but she managed to hold the gun steady.

He clambered to his feet and his eyes went to the trooper's gun that had fallen to the floor.

“Don't even think about it,” Kate warned, her voice venomous. “If you move, I'll put a bullet between your eyes.” She hoped she sounded convincing. One session of target practice didn't make her an expert shot, but he didn't know that.

George didn't move, but his lips stretched into an ugly sneer. “So, how do you think you'll get this crate on the ground and keep that gun pointed at me?”

Kate wasn't sure how she'd do that. She hadn't thought that far ahead. “Get up here and sit down,” she ordered.

He moved gingerly toward the front. Kate knew he could easily overpower her. Maybe she ought to wound him. But what if she missed and the bullet put a hole in the plane and hit something vital? She didn't want to take the risk. She needed another plan.

“Stop right there.” With one hand on the control wheel and the gun in the other, she said, “Get the key for the cuffs out of the trooper's pocket.”

George's eyes widened.

Kate tried to look tough. “Give me any reason and I'll shoot you.”

George did as she told him. “I'm not going to hurt you. I just want a ride out of here,” he said, digging through Ted's pockets. He came up with the key. “Set me down and I'll be on my way.”

Kate ignored him. “Unlock the cuffs.”

He unlocked them. “Look, you're dog's fine.” Angel sat on her haunches in the back. “We're all fine. I figure this trooper here will wake up and he'll be fine too.”

Kate hoped that was true, but she was almost certain it wasn't.

“And I promise, I'll just get off and move along. You'll never see me again.”

“I'm supposed to trust you?”

“Sure. Why not? I got nothing against you. I just want to be free, that's all.” A grin spread across his face.

Kate shook her head.

His grin slid away and a sneer replaced it.

“Clasp one cuff around your right wrist and the other around the bar on that seat.” She nodded at the seat beside him.

George looked at the seat, then back at Kate. “No.”

Kate pointed the gun at his knee. “It's that or a shattered kneecap—which would you prefer?”

He didn't move.

“I'm not giving you any more warnings. One. Two—”

“All right. All right.” George moved to cuff his wrist, but instead he lunged at her.

Kate didn't want to chance a wild shot, so she turned the plane sharply to the right and headed into a dive. George lost his footing and fell forward, toward Kate. His head hit the interior wall and he fell to the floor, sprawled between the seats. He was close enough to reach Kate.

Struggling to pull out of the dive, Kate kept her gun pointed at him while watching their descent at the same time. The plane shuddered, and for a moment, Kate feared she'd asked too much of it. She quickly uncocked the hammer and, still holding onto the gun, moved her right forearm behind the wheel to get more control.

Gradually the nose came up and the engine evened out. George looked like he was unconscious. Kate hoped so. She didn't want to shoot anyone, not even George. If he was out, she needed to get on the ground fast, before he came around.

She circled Unalakleet and lined up with the airfield, hoping someone would be there to help. Still keeping an eye on George and on the controls, she came in with a hard landing. George didn't move. Neither did Ted.

As soon as she rolled to a stop, Kate approached George. With her gun pointed at him, she nudged him with the toe of her boot. He didn't respond. Afraid it was a trick and that he'd grab her at any moment, Kate quickly stepped over him. He remained still. She leaned over Trooper Jacobs and checked for a pulse. She knew he was gone—his color was bad, his lips blue. And there was no pulse.

Angel limped toward her. Kate buried her fingers in the dog's ruff. “Come on girl, let's get out of here.” She stood and moved to the door and opened it. With a quick look at the two men, she climbed out of the plane.

Her adrenaline kicking in, she ran for the radio shack, praying someone would be there. She threw open the door and relief swept through her like a flood. A man stood over a barrel stove.

He turned toward her. “What in tarnation? You okay?”

“No. I need help. I've got a dead trooper and an injured prisoner on my plane.” Kate was nearly shrieking.

The man wasted no time. He picked up his radio and called for help. His look steady, he said, “Name's Steven Marshal, ma'am. Why don't you have a seat.”

“Kate Anderson,” Kate said, but instead of sitting, she walked to the door and watched the plane. “I don't know how long that prisoner will remain unconscious. We need to truss him up.”

Steven grabbed a handgun. “I'll take care of him.” He glanced at Kate. “You said you have a dead trooper on board?”

“Yeah.” Kate strode along beside him. “Ted Jacobs.”

Steven's expression turned grim, but he kept up his pace.

“Did you know him?”

“Yeah. He came through pretty regular. He was a good man.” He squared his jaw, then asked, “How about the prisoner? Who is he? And what happened to him?”

“Name's George Ujarak. I was transporting him to Anchorage when he overtook Ted and killed him.” Kate's breath caught in her throat. “I managed to knock him off his feet by going into a dive. He hit his head and the last time I saw him he was unconscious.”

“We better get to him before he comes to.”

When they reached the plane, Steven cautiously climbed the steps and peered inside. With his gun ready, he stepped in. Kate followed, her own gun in hand.

When she stepped into the plane, Steven was leaning over Ted. He rested a hand on the dead man's shoulder, then moved to George, who was still sprawled out on the floor. Kate wondered if he was dead too.

With his pistol pointed at George's head, Steven nudged him with the toe of his boot. “Hey, you. Get up.” He kicked him harder. “I said get up.”

A moan came from George. He pushed up on one arm and looked over his shoulder. Blood seeped from a gash on his forehead.

Steven took a step back, keeping his gun aimed at George. “On your feet, you piece of filth.”

George put a hand to his head. “I'm bleeding.” The fight had gone out of him.

“Yeah. And if you don't do what I say, it's gonna get a lot worse.”

George pushed to his knees, then grabbed hold of a seat and wobbled to his feet. Steven backed toward the door. Figuring he had everything in hand, Kate made her way down the steps to the ground. Her legs quaked. Angel leaned against her. Kate rested a hand on the dog's head, but kept her eyes on the door.

As Steven made his way down the steps and George appeared in the doorway, Kate said, “Watch him. He's tricky.”

“He ain't gonna get away with nothin'. He'll hang, that's what he'll do.” Steven's anger seethed. “Takin' someone's life is frowned upon here. He'll pay.”

George stood in the doorway. He shielded his eyes with his hand. “My head hurts bad, real bad. I can barely see. I think I might've blinded myself.”

“Good. Get down here.”

Kate heard the sound of an engine and turned to see an old Ford pickup roll onto the landing strip. She'd never seen a car in this part of the country and figured they must have brought it in one piece at a time. Two men climbed out.

“Hey, Steven, you need some help?”

“Yeah. Get this man in cuffs and haul him off to jail. He's a prisoner and he killed Ted Jacobs.”

Quaking inside, Kate sat on a log and watched while the men secured George and tied him in the back of the truck. She stared at Ted as they carried his body out of the plane. Kate had seen more than her share of death. She never got used to it. Every time she was reminded how tenuous life is. Sometimes there was no tomorrow.

“We'll take care of things from here,” said the trooper who had been driving the truck.

Kate nodded. “Thanks for your help.”

“I'll need you to fill out some papers.”

“Sure. But I'm in a hurry—want to make McGrath today.”

“Won't take long. And hey, Steven told me what you did. Good work.” He gave her back a pat and walked with her to the truck.

After the paperwork was done, Steven dropped Kate at the airstrip. “You'll be notified about the trial.”

Kate nodded. All she could think of was home. “Come on, Angel. Let's go.”

Angel had recovered enough to take the steps with ease and disappeared into the plane. With a steadying breath, Kate climbed in to see Angel nosing around. There was blood splattered throughout the passenger section.

She grabbed Angel's collar to hold her back. “No, Angel, go sit!” She motioned toward the cockpit and Angel jumped up into her seat.

Kate pulled out a rag and wiped up what she could. The rest would have to wait until she got home and had time to give the plane a thorough cleaning.

She looked down at the bloodstained rag in her hands. Kate suddenly felt sick. She closed her eyes and leaned against the seat until the nausea passed, then she tossed the rag into a trash bag and climbed into the pilot's seat.

Kate was never so happy to see the Anchorage airport. She was tired, ready for normal and to be on her way home. First, she had to face Jack. She had no trooper and no prisoner and she hadn't radioed in. He'd want an explanation and she hadn't been ready to give it. She walked toward the shop, gearing up for the inquisition.

Jack worked at the bench and Alan was pouring himself a cup of coffee. Jack looked over his shoulder at her. “No passengers?”

Kate figured she'd keep things matter-of-fact. She signed in. “No. And I need a form for an in-flight incident.”

Jack straightened and eyed her suspiciously. “Why? What happened?” He glanced out the window. “Where's that prisoner and trooper you're supposed to have with you?”

Kate took in a breath. “Trooper Jacobs is dead and the prisoner, George Ujarak, is in custody in Unalakleet.” She faced him and braced her hands on her hips. She didn't want Jack to see how wobbly she felt.

He moved to the desk, pulled out a drawer, searched through some papers, and then slapped a form on the desk. “So, what happened?”

Kate grabbed a pencil out of a tin cup that was sitting on the desk and bent over the form. “The prisoner killed Ted Jacobs, the trooper, then tried to hijack the plane. I managed to knock him out with some fancy maneuvers and then set down at Unalakleet. Law enforcement took over there.” She straightened.

Looking startled, Jack asked, “You all right?”

“I'm fine. I just need to get home.”

Jack took in a deep breath. “Never knew anyone for getting into trouble like you.” He shook his head. “Glad you made it back in one piece.” Without another word, he turned and went back to work.

Kate thought she heard concern in his voice. Maybe he did care. She finished filling out the form, then dropped the pencil back into the cup. “If you don't mind, I think I'll take a couple of days off.”

Jack didn't look up. “Suit yourself.”

“I'll be in Anchorage tonight and then head for Robe Lake first thing in the morning.”

“No need. Paul called in for a flight this morning. He's home.”

“And the boy?”

“Guess he's gonna make it.”

Feeling as if she'd been drained of all her energy, Kate walked to her plane. She needed Paul. When she landed on the creek, Paul was waiting for her at the edge of the ice. He waved. All Kate could think of was his strong arms around her.

When her feet met the snow-covered creek, she wanted to run to him. Instead she made herself walk, and in as normal a voice as she could manage, she asked, “So, how is the little boy?”

“He's going to be fine.” Paul stared at her. “Did something happen? Are you all right?”

“I am now.” She stepped into Paul's arms. The tears came as she clung to him.

Paul smoothed her hair. “Whatever it is, it's all right, Katie. We can fix it. What happened?”

“You didn't hear about it on the Mukluk News?”

“Haven't had time to listen. What did I miss?” He held her away from him, concern etched into his face.

“Flying is a crazy business for crazy people. Maybe it's time for me to get out.”