The Ninth Day (27 page)

“I had enough fuel,” he said. He kept his eyes on the cup as it filled.

The other pilot outmaneuvered him, Banner thought. It was the only explanation for Sumner’s unsuccessful flight and return empty-handed. Sumner’s cell phone rang and he answered it, never taking his eyes from the coffee.

“Yes?” He propped the phone between his ear and his shoulder while he opened a container of cream and dumped it in the coffee. He paused in the preparation as he listened to the speaker. “I heard you. For now, no one enters that plane. Communicate that to whatever local police may be on the scene. We’re on the way.” He hung up and turned to Banner. “They found the plane in a field on a runway La Valle uses. I’m going to head over there. I think you should join me,” Sumner said.

“Sorry, but I can’t. I need to finish up with the Caribbean crew and then head back to D.C. I’m no longer any use to Caldridge. With a warrant out for her arrest and every level of law enforcement agency in three states looking for her, I lack any jurisdiction to help her.”

“Wasn’t she out there to begin with under a contract from the Department of Defense?”

Banner nodded. “Even so, I think I lost control once she crisscrossed the border between the States and Mexico. And I
really
lost control when she started a crime spree. The best I can do is be prepared to assist her once they pick her up. I’ll arrange for Ralston, Darkview’s lawyer, to be on hand. We’ll post bail and then find out what’s going on.” Banner started collecting his clothes and tossing them into the luggage that he’d opened on the bed.

Sumner stepped closer. “Don’t worry about jurisdiction. I have it—or at least the ATD has it—over the airplane. I really think you need to come with me.”

“Why? You’re just impounding another cartel jet, right?”

“This one’s spray painted with a skull and crossbones on the side.”

Banner rolled his eyes. “Drug runner art? Trying to scare the locals from getting too close?”

Sumner shook his head. “I think it’s more than that. I think it’s a serious warning.”

“Warning of what?”

“It could be wired to explode. It could be loaded with a toxic gas. I don’t know. But I can’t help but think it’s a warning we should heed.”

Banner moved to the bathroom and scooped up his shaving kit. He returned to the luggage and arranged it inside. “I’ll concede that you and your organization have a deeper understanding of the cartels in this hemisphere, but why assume they’re on the right side of things? Seems to me that they’d love to let some police officers be blown sky high with a booby trap of their making.”

“The image wasn’t on the plane when I chased it. It was added after they landed.”

“Still, I don’t think it merits both of us going there. I don’t see how I can help you.” Banner tossed a polo shirt into the luggage and picked up another.

“I think Caldridge had something to do with it.”

Banner stopped in mid-toss. The second shirt landed short of the suitcase. “What in the world makes you think that?”

“Call it instinct.”

Banner cocked his head to one side as he looked at Sumner. “I’m not buying that line. What aren’t you telling me?”

Sumner downed the rest of his coffee in one gulp. “If you can spare the time, I’d like you to come with me. Let’s leave it at that.”

Banner locked eyes with Sumner while his mind raced. He immediately reconsidered his earlier assumption that Sumner had been outmaneuvered. Clearly something occurred out there that was not ordinary. He finished piling the rest of his clothes into the suitcase and flipped it closed.

“All right, then. Let’s go.”

Sumner drove and Banner spent the entire journey wondering about the plane. He sent a short text to Stromeyer telling her that he wasn’t headed out just yet. When she asked why, he explained the situation as best he could in the shorthand required by texting. His phone rang.

“I know you’re in the car together, so don’t say anything, just listen,” Stromeyer said. “I just wanted to remind you that he could be violating ATD policy if he knows something that he’s not saying.” Banner couldn’t have agreed more.

“I think we need to see how this plays out and trust that we’ll know what to do when the time comes.” Sumner stared straight ahead. Banner thought he was doing his best not to eavesdrop on the conversation.

He heard Stromeyer sigh over the phone. “Just don’t let him jeopardize his job. There’s no sense having two in trouble. Assure him that if he brings her in we’ll do everything we can to straighten this out. I still believe that she’s being coerced in some fashion.”

“I agree and I’ll keep you posted,” Banner said.

“Great. I’ll manage the Caribbean situation for now.” When they reached the plane, Banner got out of the car and stood by the door, staring. The scent of wet paint hung in the air.

“It doesn’t get any clearer than that, does it?” Sumner said.

Banner nodded. “I didn’t expect it to be so graphic.” There was a crowd of local law enforcement busy taping off the area. Banner jerked his chin in their direction. “They know not to approach it?”

Sumner nodded. “Look there.” He pointed at a group of men dressed in yellow jumpsuits standing next to a truck with lettering that read H
AZARDOUS
I
NCIDENT
T
EAM
. Next to it sat an ambulance and one fire truck.

“Ah, I didn’t see that. Good,” Banner said. He squinted at the plane. “The paint is still wet. She close by?” Banner waited to see if Sumner would pretend as though he didn’t know who the “she” was that he was referring to.

“I don’t know,” Sumner said. Banner contemplated the plane. He hadn’t seen a Fokker in quite some time. They were long out of production and used primarily in Europe.

“Only guy I know who flies a Fokker is in Africa,” Banner said. “It’s not the usual cartel model, is it?”

Sumner shook his head. “I’ve actually never seen a Fokker this side of the Atlantic.”

“Strange,” Banner said.

Sumner nodded. “I’ve given up trying to figure out the cartel guys.”

The hazardous incident team waved the uniform police officers away. They turned to the plane and approached it cautiously. One, his head covered with a helmet and an air pack on his back, pulled the door down.

“That’s the unlucky guy who gets to go in first,” Banner said. “What if it’s wired?”

Sumner shook his head. “Bomb squad’s already been here. Determined that there isn’t a bomb.”

The man poked his head into the opening. After a moment, he disappeared inside. He was gone for a few minutes and reappeared at the entrance, holding up a wrapped brick in his gloved hand for everyone to see.

“Nothing more than a shipment of weed,” he said. He tossed the brick to a nearby colleague. “Check it?” He descended the ladder and stripped off his helmet. “Let’s get it out of there and burn it.” The rest of the team lined up to climb the ladder. They removed their helmets, but kept their gloves on. Within minutes they were throwing bricks of marijuana out of the plane into a pile.

“At least it wasn’t anything dangerous,” Banner said. Sumner, though, looked pensive, his face set in a frown.

“Why would she paint a skull and crossbones for a routine marijuana shipment?” he said.

Banner paused. The question was a good one. He watched the pile of marijuana grow. The officers were milling around, talking, some laughing now that the immediate danger was passed.

“You’re assuming she painted it. Maybe she didn’t. Maybe the pilot did.”

Sumner still looked unsatisfied with the explanation. “Dramatic, empty gestures aren’t her style.”

“I agree. She’s too logical. She wouldn’t waste her time unless it was important,” Banner said.

The hazardous incident team leader and another officer walked up to Sumner. “You from ATD?”

Sumner nodded.

The team leader waved at the marijuana pile. “The leaves checked out. Marijuana. We’re keeping one brick for evidence and some photos, then burning the rest. Take these.” He handed Sumner and Banner two packages. “They’re temporary face masks with about eight minutes of air pumped into them from that battery pack on the front. Less if you’re breathing heavy. You’re pretty safe here, but once we light the marijuana you should use these if you want to get any closer.”

“No one allowed to get high on the job?” Sumner said.

The man smiled. “Yep. Policy.”

Banner watched an officer wearing one of the temporary face masks pour a liquid over the pile. When the leaves were soaked he waved everyone back in preparation for lighting it. He tossed a match and the bricks lit up in flames with a whooshing sound. Smoke billowed into the air, but with the lack of a breeze, it continued straight up in a dark column. Banner watched it burn. Sumner stopped his conversation with the team leader to watch also. Several men hovered around the fire.

“You sure the plane isn’t rigged with a bomb?” Sumner asked after a few minutes.

“You mean inside?” The hazardous team leader shook his head. ”Nothing there. We’ll get the plane’s interior fingerprinted. Can you find out who owns it?”

“It’s an unusual model. That will make it easier.”

There came a choking noise. One of the officers closest to the bonfire grabbed at his throat. He was hunched over in obvious distress. A second ran to him, placing his hand on the man’s back and saying something. He staggered back, holding his throat. After a moment, he too, bent forward. His legs buckled and he fell to one knee.

“What the hell?” the hazardous team leader said. He made a move to go to the men, but Sumner held him back.

“Get your helmet on,” Sumner said. He cupped his hands to his mouth and yelled at the officers near the smoking marijuana, “Move back. Now!”

Banner ripped at his temporary face mask, opening the package as fast as he could while still keeping his eyes on the fire. Several more policemen appeared affected. The first two stumbled away. The clearing erupted in chaos, with policemen running to drag the affected men to the ambulance, and the others running away from the fire. The officer that had waited with the team leader started past Banner, heading toward the column of smoke.

“Wait!” Banner grabbed at the fireman’s arm. “Take this.” He handed the mask to the fireman, who shoved it over his head as he jogged to the scene.

Sumner pulled his own mask over his face and split off in the direction of the fire truck. The ambulance siren blared, underlaid with a beeping tone as it reversed away from the scene.

The team leader, helmeted and covered, reached the fire and used his hands in a push back motion to herd the officers far from the pyre. Two firemen tried to run past him to the fire truck, but their faces were uncovered and the team leader stepped in front of them. They retreated a safe distance away. Two more officers, closer than the others, started to hold their stomachs as if they were going to be sick, but instead drops of blood started from their noses.

Banner jogged backwards as he watched the fireman he’d given his mask to climb into the truck. It began to rumble. Sumner headed toward it and leaped on the running board while he spoke to the fireman. After a moment Sumner appeared at the truck’s top. He grabbed a stationary hose mounted on the roof. Water spouted from the nozzle and he directed it at the flames, using both his hands and focused on dousing the fire.

Within a minute the marijuana stopped burning. Two firemen returned to grab additional tanks. They sprayed a tamping foam onto the pile, effectively smothering it. The black column of smoke was reduced to almost nothing.

The ambulance turned around, its wheels churning up the turf, and went screaming down the road. The unaffected policemen hung back, with shocked looks on their faces. Banner could feel his pulse pounding and his breath hitch, but he couldn’t tell if it was from inhaling the smoke or the stress of watching the incident go down. He swallowed but his mouth was dry.

Sumner clambered down from the fire truck. He jogged to Banner, ignoring the firemen, team leader, and the remaining police officers. When he reached Banner, he stopped, pulled off the face cover and stood there, his chest heaving and a grave look in his eyes.

Banner leveled a stare at Sumner. “If you know anything about what I just saw, I expect you to tell me. Now.”

Sumner hesitated.

That’s right, Banner thought, think about what you’re doing.

“I don’t know anything more about what I saw than you do,” Sumner said, his words seemed carefully chosen.

“How much are you telling me? All of it?” Banner pressed.

Sumner gave him a shrewd look. “As much as I think is necessary.”

Banner sighed. “I hold her in high esteem, too, but you’re doing her no favors protecting her, you know that? She would be safer with us, even if that meant in custody. And something tells me she can explain what it was I just saw, because, I tell you, I can’t explain it.”

Sumner shook his head. “If she wanted to be in custody she would find a way to get there.”

“Maybe, maybe not. I’m going first to Kansas City and then on to the Caribbean before I get back to D.C. You need me, get me there, because I’ll be out of contact once I reach the Caribbean.”