“Uniwave. They’d deny everything, and the FAA would back them up.”
“Why?”
“Well…”
“It’s some sort of secret government test, isn’t it?”
“I can’t tell you! I’ve said all I can, and… I’m beginning to think this was a dumb Boy Scout mistake.”
She reached out and touched his arm. “Okay, look. I’m sorry. I appreciate what you’ve done, and we’re not going to get you in trouble. I promise you that. I’m just very frustrated.”
“I can completely understand.”
“But, Ben… I should tell you something as well. I should tell you why I know it was a Beechjet.”
“Gulfstream,” Ben said flatly.
“Okay. A Gulfstream.”
“How can you know about the aircraft? I mean, I know it takes off in the clear from Elmendorf, but where it goes is not supposed to be public knowledge.”
She watched him in silence for a few seconds as the tumblers fell into place. She inhaled sharply. “You were aboard Monday night, weren’t you?”
“I’m sorry?”
“No, Ben, you heard me. That’s how you know the airplane was at exactly fifty feet, because you were there, right?”
He licked his lips and looked down in thought, taking a ragged breath before meeting her eyes again and nodding. “You’re spooky, lady. You know that? I’ve got a friend here who’s just about as frightening with his insights.”
“Oh?”
“Native Alaskan.” His right hand went out, palm up. “Okay, yes. I was aboard. But don’t ask! Do not ask me what I was doing on board that airplane, except my job.”
“All right. What’s important to me is that you know what you’re talking about when you say the jet was at fifty feet. Did you hear a collision?”
“Absolutely not,” he said. “I heard nothing. That does not mean we didn’t hit the prop, but I just didn’t hear anything or feel anything. In fact…”
“Sorry?”
He waved it away. “No, I can’t get into that.”
“I understand that I can’t ask what you were doing, but I do happen to know it’s some sort of low-altitude, high-speed test, and a secret government, or military, test of some sort.”
“Well, you can speculate.”
“Yes, I can. For instance, were you aboard last night’s flight, too?”
She could see his eyes flare again in surprise as he started to speak, then closed his mouth and studied her.
“How do I know that, right?” April asked.
Ben nodded.
“Because that same Gulfstream almost collided with the airplane I was in last night at about two thousand feet out over the water when it came screaming out of the restricted area.”
“I had no idea there was a near miss.”
“There was. But what I want to know is, why are they covering this up? Is the FAA responsible for keeping all this secret? Is this somehow a vendetta to get my dad, or was he just in the wrong place at the wrong time?”
Ben shifted around in the seat to see her better. “The latter, as far as I know. April, secret flights that officially don’t exist cannot be allowed to surface publicly. Therefore, if there really was an interaction between a civilian aircraft and a secret flight, the incident itself has to be officially nonexistent. I think that’s what you’re up against.”
April started to tell him about the missing wreckage, but decided to hold back for no reason she could discern.
Ben dropped her at Anchorage International’s terminal a few minutes later, bidding her goodbye with a short list of phone numbers she could use to reach him.
“You can call me anytime, but please don’t expect anything more than I’ve already told you,” he said.
April thanked him and melded into the crowd as she pulled out her cell phone and called Gracie, catching her on the way to the judge’s house.
“So, this guy was aboard the plane Monday night?” Gracie asked.
“Yes,” April replied, repeating what Cole had revealed. “But he was trying to point us to the telltale radar information. The copy he gave me is unusable as evidence.”
“Damn. April, I’m still having a lot of trouble with this. We needed a picture of a broken prop, but when you got the shots, the Coast Guard took the tape. Then you found the wreck itself, but now they’ve snatched it away, taking our best evidence with them. You said we can’t use this guy as a witness?”
“No, we’ll kill him professionally if we try.”
“Okay, but we know the FAA is withholding evidence, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then that becomes the focus, and maybe a trade. They can keep their damn little secrets if they let the captain off the hook.”
FORTY ONE
SATURDAY, DAY 6 SEATTLE, WASHINGTON
The drive from downtown Seattle to the well-heeled neighborhoods of Mercer Island took less than fifteen minutes, and Gracie found the judge’s waterfront home with ease. She left her Corvette in the upper driveway of the multistoried home, momentarily concerned what the judge might think.
There were few windows on the rear of the home, however, and his wife answered the door, showing her into a den with a sweeping view of Lake Washington.
“This is beautiful!” Gracie exclaimed, taking in the buildings of downtown Seattle rising above the ridge in the distance across the deep blue of the lake.
“Are you a native Washingtonian, dear?” Mrs. Chasen asked.
Gracie turned and smiled at her as a cascade of cautions clicked into place.
“I was born in Idaho, but… I’ve lived here all my life.”
“I believe we knew an O’Brien family in Bellevue with a parcel of beautiful daughters like you. Would that be your family?”
“No, afraid not. But thank you for the compliment.” She left it at that, as she usually did. There was no one who really needed to hear of the ravages an alcoholic mother could visit on the concept of family.
“Counselor?” a masculine voice asked from behind her, and she turned to find the second most senior federal district judge in Seattle standing with his hand outstretched. She smiled and took it.
“Your Honor. Again, I apologize for the intrusion.”
“It does go with the job at times. Would you care to come into the dining room, where we can spread out the papers if necessary?”
She followed him in, expecting pleasantries in the wake of his wife’s hospitality, but the judge sat down heavily at the head of the table and nodded to her.
“I’ve reviewed the brief from yesterday’s filing. Why are we here today?”
“Your Honor, I offer the court two additional petitions. The first is a petition for a new temporary restraining order that combines an order to show cause and an order for production. The defendant is, in a broad stroke, the United States government, due to our inability to discover at this point which agency of the government — military or civil — has committed the act complained of, which specifically is the unauthorized tortious interference with the non-abandoned wreckage of Grumman Albatross November Thirty-four Delta Delta.” She narrated the inability of the owner to find anything but a debris field where the wreckage had been forty-eight hours before. “We are seeking your order to force whichever agency has removed that wreckage to first and foremost safeguard it, to report to the court its location, and to make it available for our inspection and removal to the plaintiff’s physical possession and control. We also petition the court for a show-cause hearing why the applicable agency should not be held in contempt for having removed the wreckage despite your order of Friday.”
“That order, Ms. O’Brien, was against the Coast Guard.”
“Yes sir, but I had also expanded the caption to include the entirety of the United States government.”