"Oh my, that's a tight squeeze, " Barbie said while Hooter ripped open the velcro straps on her astronaut boots and readjusted them, admiring her stylish outfit and imagining herself in the governor's special box at the racetrack.
Hooter wondered if that big, bad Trooper Macovich would show up and figured he would. He sure did brag a lot about how dangerous and important his job was. Everything was the guv this and the guv that when Hooter and Macovich had been drinking beer the other night, and Hooter felt a twinge of regret. It was true that Macovich was fresh and had one thing on his mind, even when he was going on and on about the governor and what it was like to work in that big mansion in Capitol Square while beating everybody in pool, but Hooter was lonely.
"I tell you, girlfriend, maybe I been too rough on him, " Hooter said with a sigh as Barbie pulled into a boarded-up gas station and turned around. "I kinda hope he'll be there tonight. You think he'll admirate my style?"
"I think you look fabulous, " Barbie assured her as she worried about getting to the race on time, if at all.
The reverend's phone call was out of the blue and very peculiar, Barbie thought as she headed toward a rundown part of the city, just northwest of downtown, where the reverend had instructed her to wait across the street from the city jail, in the back parking lot of the juvenile courts building. He and his brethren would be hiding in a small wooded area and would jump in the minivan the minute she showed up, and then she was to speed away and not ask any questions.
"Maybe you should ring up that trooper and tell him we might be a little late, " Barbie suggested with growing anxiety, "and ask him to make sure they don't give away our seats in the governor's box. "
"What'chu mean, late?" Hooter exclaimed, because she had not paid much attention to whatever Barbie had been saying on the cell phone a few minutes ago. "Girlfriend, we can't be late! Uh uh, we're late, you gonna totally miss seeing all them race drivers come outta their trailers and get into their cars! You won't get your picture took with none of 'em! This is the opportunity of a life, and we can't be late!"
As Barbie drove faster, Hooter noticed a big, colorful helicopter hovering in the area of the Medical College.
"Why, look at that helichopper!" Hooter leaned forward to get a better look. "Now, that would hang the moon, wouldn't it, girlfriend? To ride on a helichopper? Must be some poor person they's rushing to the emergency room, but I ain't never seen a med-chopper that look like that. "
"Oh my Lord, " Barbie exclaimed and almost ran off the road. "That's Donny Brett's colors! And look, his number eleven's painted on the door. Oh dear Lord, he must've been in a wreck already!"
"But the race ain't even started yet, " Hooter pointed out. "Maybe he had a heart attack or something. You know he must be feeling a lot of stress after comin' in eighteenth last spring when he was here. "
Thirty-one
Andy and Hammer were feeling far more stress than Donny Brett was. Despite Andy's apparent confidence when he promised Hammer he knew exactly how to handle Smoke and the road dogs, the truth was, he had no idea what to expect, and the headset kept rearranging his ponytail wig, and pretty soon it would be too dark to wear the Ray-Bans. He held the helicopter in a rock-hard hover and turned the nose into the wind as he spotted Smoke, a fragile-looking woman with short platinum hair, and two road dogs climbing out of a black SUV parked in the lot on the other side of the fenced-in helipad. The thugs were dressed in NASCAR colors, and the smallest one was holding a small bundle wrapped in what looked like a folded black flag.
"That must be Possum, " Andy said to Hammer over the mike. "And it looks like he might have Popeye. "
Hammer did her best not to react. She knew it would be unwise to show that she had any interest in whatever was in the folded flag, because she was supposed to be
Donny Brett's brother's girlfriend and had no reason to know who Popeye was or care.
"Stay tight, " Andy said as he set down the helicopter on the concrete surface and cut both engines' throttles to flight idle. "I'll go talk to them. If something happens, just cut the throttles all the way off and start shooting through your window. It slides open. "
The road dogs and the woman were gathered at the fence, staring in awe at the glorious helicopter and looking a bit perplexed as they watched the redneck with a ponytail headed their way.
"Who the fuck are you?" Smoke asked as the little bundle moved in Possum's arms.
"My brother sent me to pick you up, " Andy said, rewriting his script yet again.
"Your brother's Donny Brett?" Cuda asked with wide eyes. "Whoa, man, he's phat! I sure hope he pulls it off tonight, 'cause I know he sucked last spring, coming in eighteenth. "
"Shut up!" Smoke ordered. "We're supposed to be picked up by the state police, " he said to Andy. "Why the shit would your brother send his chopper after us?"
Andy detected Smoke's twitching fingers over a pocket on his bright red Winston Cup jacket, where he probably had concealed a high-caliber gun. Andy eyed what he assumed was Smoke's trailer-park-looking girlfriend and something about her eyes gave him a creepy feeling. She seemed familiar.
"All I can tell ya, " Andy said, "is me and my girlfriend-copilot was just with Donny in his trailer, giving him a pep talk, when this big black trooper shows up in a panic. He starts telling this story about the governor's helicopter getting a chip light and the thing's grounded, and he's got a pit crew he's supposed to pick up downtown, and he don't know what to do, but maybe Donny could help out because his helicopter's just sitting there. I assumed you're the Jolly Goodwrench pit crew, " Andy added, feigning sudden doubt and suspicion to buffalo them a bit.
"Yeah, " Possum shouted above the thud-thudding of the helicopter blades, and he managed to unfold the flag enough for Andy to make out part of a skull smoking a cigarette, and the word Jolly and part of Goodwrench. "Come on, let's go!" Possum exclaimed.
"Wait a minute, " Smoke said, staring menacingly at Andy. "How the fuck do you know about Jolly Good-wrench?"
"Yeah!" Cuda agreed.
"Because it's on your flag, " Andy replied, pointing at it and grateful Possum had been sharp enough to unfold it just in time.
"And I put something about Jolly Goodwrench on the NASCAR web, " Possum added an untruth to firm up the story.
"Right, " Andy said, sending a secret signal to Possum. "I saw it. "
Possum caught on and hid his shock. The blond guy with the ponytail wasn't Donny Brett's brother but Trooper Truth undercover! Trooper Truth had changed the plan! Possum had been suffering from a bad feeling that something was going to screw up at the last minute, and he was right. Otherwise, Trooper Truth wouldn't have shown up in Donny Brett's helicopter!
"Listen, we can't stand here all day talking, " Andy said loudly. "We've got to get off this helipad before Medflight shows up to drop off a heart for transplant surgery. So either get in, or I gotta get out of here and back to the racetrack. "
"Come on, " Smoke said. He, his girlfriend, and the road dogs climbed over the fence and held on to their MAC Tools, M amp;M, and Excedrin baseball caps as they ran through gusting rotor wash toward the 430.
Barbie and Hooter saw the bright helicopter pop up over the tops of buildings and speed away as Barbie turned into the empty parking lot of the courts buildings. She drove to the back, and instantly six desperate-looking men, including the reverend, rushed out of a wooded area and ran like hell toward the minivan, jerking open the doors and piling inside. It did not escape Hooter's attention that the men smelled unwashed, were unshaven, and had neither belts nor shoelaces. She knew inmates when she saw them, and froze in fear. Oh, oh, oh, what had she gotten herself into now? And wasn't that Mexican boy the same one she'd met at the toll-booth the other night?