"It's nice that you operate from our hotel," he said in a loud voice.
"I have to be close to the studio," she explained with mock seriousness as the contract pilot removed his headset and opened his door, "in the event that I have to scramble for a breaking news story."
Steve looked askance. "Right."
"Actually" — she turned to include Susan—"it's great publicity for the station."
Susan nodded in agreement and followed Steve to the vividly colored JetRanger.
After Theresa talked with the relief pilot, she helped Susan strap in while Steve nonchalantly climbed into the left front seat of Sky Nine.
With a crowd of spectators watching, Theresa started the powerful turbine, checked her engine gauges, then brought the JetRanger to a hover and moved out over the clear water. A minute later they were racing toward Honolulu Internationa 1.
When the helicopter was refueled at Air Service Hawaii, Sky Nine lifted off and headed directly toward Kahana Bay.
Once they cleared the top of the Koolau Range, Theresa slowed the helo and flew equal distance between the ridgeline and the shore. She studied the overcast, mentally noting the decreased visibility.
"We won't be able to stay long," she explained over the intercom. "The weather is about to clobber us and we don't have much daylight left."
"You're the boss," Steve said politely and cinched his restraint harnesses tighter. "Make it easy on yourself."
Susan was uncomfortable, but she decided not to question the pilot, at least not in front of Wickham.
Theresa handed Steve a tattered map of Oahu. "If you see anything suspicious, make a note on the chart."
"Will do."
"If you want to photograph anything," Theresa went on while she pointed to the metal container next to Steve's seat, "feel free to use the camera. We keep plenty of extra film on board, so shoot all you like."
"Thanks." He opened the case and removed the Pentax. "I appreciate it."
"No problem."
They continued along the coastline while Theresa pointed out two private residences that had heliports and small hangars. Steve photographed the lavish homes, then circled the locations on the map and made a check mark on the highway next to the shoreline.
He keyed the intercom and looked at Theresa. "Those mansions — the ones with the helipads — must be owned by Japanese."
"You're right," she confided with a wide grin. "They're in the twenty-five-to-thirty-million range, just in case you're interested."
"Not this month," Steve absently replied while he snapped photos of another massive home.
The opulent dwelling was new construction, complete with a huge free-form swimming pool with a large spa in the middle. A towering waterfall cascaded into a koi pond near a stone bridge that connected the marble spa to the large courtyard.
Next to the pool area was a tennis court surrounded by a row of tall trees and colorful flowers and shrubbery. Above the pool area was an elevated sundeck and wet bar with an unobstructed view of the ocean.
"Not a bad shack," Steve observed while he made a note and took a few more snapshots as they circled the home. He was surprised when he saw the camouflage-green landing aid near the tennis court.
"Down there." He pointed and Theresa banked the JetRanger. "That's a wind sock, right?"
She saw the conical, open-ended sleeve attached to a tall stand. The wind sock was connected to a pivot so it could swivel to indicate the wind direction.
"That's right," Theresa replied and began slowing the helicopter. "They're usually bright orange, so this seems a bit strange to me."
"Steve," Susan exclaimed over the intercom, "I just saw a man run around the back of the home and disappear inside. It looked like he was carrying a rifle."
"Where?" he asked and quickly shifted his gaze.
"By the side of the wing near the tennis court."
They circled the home once more before Theresa keyed her intercom. "We're going to have to hustle to get back before the weather goes down."
"Okay," Steve said and turned to look at Susan. "We need to check that place."
"First on the list," she agreed, still looking down at the large estate. "It seems odd to have a camouflage wind sock — with no hangar or helipad — and a guy with a gun running for cover."
Steve circled the location on the chart and then drew a straight line to the highway along the coastline. "We'll stop by tomorrow and pay them a visit."
When the JetRanger approached Puumahie Point, Theresa rolled the helo into a shallow turn and descended. Her uneasiness grew as the lack of visibility and diminishing daylight forced her closer and closer to the shoreline. A minute later the first splashes of rain smacked into the windshield.
"We may be in for a rough ride," Theresa announced while she added power and looked for a clear area along the ridge. She wanted to slip over the mountain range instead of having to fly all the way around the southeastern end of the island. "The visibility is dropping faster than I had anticipated."
Steve quietly nodded and watched the coastline flash under Sky Nine. He glanced toward the ridgeline and saw that the top of the Koolau Range was completely obscured by the dense clouds. He looked at his watch and estimated that darkness would swallow them in fifteen to twenty minutes.
Susan snugged her straps tighter and tried to concentrate on the scenery. She would have been more than happy to land while they could still see the ground, then hitchhike back to the Hilton.
Staying close to the shoreline, Theresa turned on her recognition lights and flew over the open water until she was abeam Kualoa Point. "We're going to have to stay VFR and see if we can work our way around the island."
"Whatever you think," Steve replied calmly while Susan fought the urge to speak out and suggest landing before the rain intensified.
Theresa contacted the radar controller at Kaneohe Marine Corps Air Station and requested vectors around Mokapu Peninsula. She didn't want to risk flying low over the ground in reduced visibility. The high-tension power lines were too hard to see, especially in the rain.
When they were close to the southeastern tip of the island, the controller lost radar contact and Theresa was on her own. She tuned in the Koko Head VOR, a navigational aid known as a very-high-frequency omnirange station, and circumnavigated Kawaihoa Point.
Proceeding outbound on the Koko Head 230-degree radial, Theresa detected a grayish-white glow ahead of the JetRanger. A fraction of a second later, she yanked up on the collective, and Sky Nine cleared the tall mast of a sailing ship with inches to spare.
"That was a tad close," Steve exclaimed while he slowly let out his breath.
Susan slumped in her seat and closed her eyes.
With her heart in her throat, Theresa set her navigational aids to intercept the 110-degree radial of the Honolulu Vortac. When the needle centered, she turned inbound on the radial, knowing that it would keep her from hitting Diamond Head as she made her way to the heliport at the Hilton Hawaiian Village.
Theresa took a deep, silent breath when the distance-measuring equipment indicated that she was directly offshore from the hotel. As the driving rain pounded the helicopter, she hovered low over the water and air-taxied Sky Nine toward the beach.
A minute later Theresa and Steve simultaneously saw the beach emerge from the wall of water. She made a slight correction to the left and guided the helo to a smooth landing at the heliport.
Susan still had her eyes closed. "Are we on the ground yet?" "Finally." Theresa sighed as she shut down the turbine. "I need to buy the two of you a tall drink."
Chapter 11
The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the Air Force Chief of Staff looked uneasy when they walked into the home of the contentious Secretary of Defense. They were not anxious to confront Bryce Mellongard with the unnerving fact that had recently surfaced, especially not at this hour of the night.