“What’s our best course of action?” asked the President.
Fischer looked at the President and then the Chief of Staff. “We can send over an FAA inspection crew and federal agents to inspect the aircraft and hangars. If they’re involved with Paulson, we’ll keep ‘em on the ground.”
The President stood, signaling the end of the meeting. “Shut Paulson down tight. Whatever it takes.”
CHAPTER 37
Ridley crouched and studied the Caribou’s flat tire. “Christ, the timing couldn’t be worse.”
Chase Parker nodded. “How long will it take to fix this, Rooster?”
Rooster looked briefly at his watch and then back at his brother. “Hour, maybe more…. We’ve got spares, but fuck if I know where they are in all this gear. I’m pretty sure we’ve got one handy in the hangar though.”
“Paulson wants us airborne and out of here immediately,” Ridley said. “Put in layman’s terms: We need to get the fuck out of here.”
Chase Parker was the exact opposite of his brother. Tall and thin, he wore clean Levi jeans and a blue-collared shirt. No tattoos or earrings decorated his body. “You guys get this fixed,” he said. “I’m gonna get the paperwork done and grab our gas cash.”
Chase jogged back toward InterGalactic’s hangar offices while Ridley, Angus Lyon, and Orlando Perez jacked the airplane off the ground and removed the outboard tire and wheel assembly from the set of main landing gear.
Less than an hour later, the wheel was fully installed. Rooster walked over to the jack and looked up at Ridley. “Are you ready to drop her down, Mac?”
“I want to check the air pressure.” Ridley knelt down and stuck an air gauge on the wheel stem. “How long has this thing been sitting around?”
Rooster shook his head. “Probably a year, but it might be more.”
“It’s got about a quarter the pressure necessary to operate the Caribou at this weight. Do you have a compressor?”
“Same with the wheel and tires. Buried in here somewhere. Got one back in the hangar somewhere too, though,” Rooster said.
Five minutes later Rooster jogged back toward the aircraft, shaking his head in frustration. “No compressor….” He pulled a handheld radio out of his vest pocket. “Chase. You copy?”
“What’s up?”
“You have any idea where we put the hangar air compressor?”
“Didn’t we lend that out to someone who wanted to do some painting?”
Rooster’s face darkened. “Shit, that’s right. I gave it to a hydraulics mechanic because he wanted to paint his damn car.”
“Hold on a second. I got a call coming in,” Chase said.
Ridley gave the mechanic a look. “First-class outfit you guys run here.”
“Rooster?” said Chase Parker over the radio.
“Still here…”
“Remember those calls we got warning us not to take any unauthorized charters to Antarctica?”
Rooster grinned and then keyed the handheld. “The ones we didn’t return?”
“Guess the FAA took offense, because our buddy at airport security just called to give me a heads-up. They’ve got two carloads of guys identifying themselves as Federal Agents heading up to the gate. You’d better find a way to get that tire filled. I’m grabbing the cash and all the paperwork.”
Rooster gave Ridley a pleading look. “You guys are used to working out in the boonies. Got any ideas?”
Lyon pointed toward the hangar and said, “Didn’t I see a barbecue inside the hangar?”
Rooster nodded. “We throw burgers on every now and then but I doubt those guys are going to stop for lunch.”
Lyon looked to Ridley. “Worth a shot — don’t ya think, Mac?”
CHAPTER 38
Jack and Paulson sat on opposite sides of the conference table, each focused on separate telephone conversations. Jack confirmed all the Antarctica equipment he ordered had arrived at InterGalactic’s hangars; and Paulson was closing the Rockingham Appliance deal he’d been nurturing before leaving for Antarctica.
On the table sat a detailed map of the Antarctic continent, drawn with markings and lines indicating directions and distances between southern Chile, the Antarctica Peninsula where they would receive refueling, and Thor’s Hammer, deep inside the continent.
Karen suddenly poked her head into the office. “Mac on the phone; he says Code Red.”
Jack looked at Paulson who shrugged and then walked over to his desk. “What’s wrong?”
“We’ve got big problems,” Ridley said over the speaker phone. “Federal agents are running up our ass. Chase Parker says we have maybe five minutes before they’re storming the gates.”
“Get the Caribou airborne and meet us at Punta.”
“I have to go,” Ridley said. “Barbecue’s here.”
“What?” Paulson looked at Jack and blinked.
“See you in Chile, Al.” With that, the telephone clicked with a cut connection.
Paulson put his hands on the table and studied the map of Antarctica for a moment. He looked at his watch. “You were telling me about this old Army Air Field out in the middle of the New Mexico desert. Call Leah and tell her to be there by midnight, tonight.”
CHAPTER 39
Chase Parker zipped a blue gym bag containing nearly $20,000 in cash. He picked up a square, leather pilot-style briefcase and sprinted out the rear door toward the gate leading through the series of hangars to the tie-down area. Rooster and Perez were in the process of horsing the large portable barbecue toward the Caribou.
“Jesus, what are you guys doing?” Chase said. “We’ve got less than five minutes before the feds are crawling all over this place.”
Lyon spun the valve shut on the standard five-gallon propane tank and then unhooked the clamps that held it in place. He removed the propane tank from underneath the barbecue and shook it to determine whether it contained enough propane to do the job. “Should do the trick,” he said after tilting propane the tank back and forth.
Lyon picked up the tank and carried it to the flattened tire. Ridley quickly disassembled an ordinary hand air pump that Rooster had found. He took the fill hose off and saved the strong steel clamp, then severed the propane hose where it entered the bottom of the grill. Using a steel hose mate, Ridley threaded the rubber hoses together and tightened the clamp. “Clip this on to the stem, Rooster.”
“Got it,” Rooster said. “What crazy bastard ever showed you guys you how to fill a tire with propane?”
“Little trick we learned bringing an aircraft out of the Congo.”
“I suggest you and your brother conduct landings in an extremely gentle manner,” Lyon added with a grin.
Ridley looked at Perez and said, “Take the grill and see if you can’t jam the door leading out of the hangar.”
“I’m getting the engines cranked up,” Chase said. He bolted for the loading ramp and scrambled inside the aircraft. A moment later, he slid the side cockpit window open and stuck his head part way out. “Clear!”
Angus Lyon and Rooster ran up the ramp while Mac waited for Perez. Once Perez had jammed the barbecue against the door, he sprinted for the loading ramp while Ridley caught the lip of the ramp with his foot, and tumbled into the back of the aircraft, bumping his head into one of the steel cargo boxes.