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Back Loitering With Intent Save as PDF
Chapters (64)
  1. Stuart Woods
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  64. AUTHOR’ S NOTE

“I’ve missed twice there; it’s bad luck.”

“I’ll see if I can get him to Miami,” Gigi said. “You’ll have a very nice payday when we get that done.”

The three split up and went their separate ways.

58

58

TOMMY SCULLEY SAT in the right seat of the amphibian Cessna 182 and watched the Intracoastal Waterway a thousand feet below them.

“You gotta get lower,” Tommy said, looking at the map, “and right now.”

“Okay,” the pilot replied, reducing power. The airplane, with the drag of the floats, slowed immediately and began to descend.

“Man, everything looks different from the air,” Tommy said.

“Always,” the pilot replied. He pointed at the map. “Is that the creek right before we get to your buddy’s house?”

“That’s gotta be it,” Tommy said. “That’s where the marina is.”

The pilot reduced power further and put in a notch of fl aps.

“Then we better get down fast; we’re nearly there. Watch for boats and other obstructions.”

Tommy peered ahead. The sun was low in the sky, and the western half of the waterway was in shadow. “Damn, we’re really cutting it close,” he said.

“We had headwinds,” the pilot replied, putting in another notch of flaps. “I see a dock up ahead. We clear of traffic?”

Tommy checked ahead. A large cabin cruiser was moving south on the waterway, but was not a factor for them. “You’re all clear, as far as I can see,” he said.

The pilot touched down smoothly and slowed. “How can we tell if this is the right dock?”

“It’s the first one up from the creek,” Tommy said. “Can you turn around and come in with my side to the dock? Then I can hop out and hold the plane. Leave the engine running, so you can take off immediately if this is the right place.”

The pilot made a wide turn, set the engine at idle and approached the dock. As he did a man came jogging down the dock.

“That’s Mike!” Tommy yelled. “He’ll catch us.”

The pilot maneuvered closer until the wing was over the dock. The man reached out, grabbed the strut under the wing and pulled them until the floats brushed the fenders attached to the dock. Tommy opened the door and tossed his overnight bag onto the pontoon, then hopped out and closed the door. He gave the pilot a thumbs-up and, with Mike’s help, pushed the airplane away from the dock. A moment later the airplane was picking up speed, and a moment after that it lifted off and headed south, climbing.

“Hey, Mike!” Tommy said, shaking his hand and clapping him on the shoulder. “How you been?”

“Not too bad,” Michael Levy replied. He was a little over six feet tall, on the slim side, wearing shorts, sneakers and a polo shirt. He grabbed Tommy’s bag and started up the dock. “C’mon,” he said.