Chapter VIII

chill went up Williams spine.  Why would he feel a chill?  It was just coincidence the plane was here . . .

William and Sharon walked into the office marked FAA, and asked the secretary for Agent Dave Marshall.  She hit a button on the intercom, announced William and Sharon Travis, then said "have a seat.  He'll be with you shortly."

Will chose an aviation magazine and sat down.   He sure liked the looks of that Lance T-tail!  Within a minute or so, a thick man in a sloppy suit with heavy glasses and jet black hair walked through the door, and motioned for them to come in.  Will followed Sharon in.  Agent Marshall had already taken a seat.  He motioned for them to sit.

Will didn't know what to expect at this point.  "Man!," he thought to himself.  "This could be rough!"

Agent Marshall spoke with a voice that was surprisingly soft.  "We received notice of a Mayday call with the call sign Cherokee niner niner three Foxtrot Mike this morning.  Here's a report sheet.  And, here's some other forms I need for you to fill out.  I need a complete description of the entire incident.  You can use the office next door.  Just knock on the door when you're finished.

He stood up and offered Will his hand.  Will shook it, thanked him and walked out.  He immediately sat himself down at the desk indicated, sighed real big and started writing.  After about half an hour, William picked up the last form.  He was nearly through with it when Sharon stood up, stretched and yawned, then walked over to the window looking out over the tarmac.

Sharon suddenly frowned and looked back at William who had, by this time, finished the form and leaned back resting his neck.  He admired Sharon who was looking out the window and at their plane.  Some men were looking it over, and one worker was on the inside of it.

"Will," she asked.  "What are they doing to the plane?"

Will was instantly on his feet and out the door.  He yelled at the men and asked what they were doing.  One guy who seemed to be in charge, walked into Will's path and said "we have orders to inspect this plane.  We can do it with your permission or without it.  But, we will inspect the plane.  Do we have your complete co-operation?"

"By whose authority are you inspecting my plane?  What are you looking for?  Is something wrong?  Have I done something wrong?  Just what do you expect to find?"  Will demanded in a tirade of questions.

"This is done under my authorization Mr. Travis." William had heard that voice before.  And then, "Would you please come with me?"

Will turned to look Len Mathers, the FBI agent square in the face.  Len stuck out his hand shaking Wills cordially after he took it.  "We'll be gentle with her, and you can depend on one thing!"

"What's that," asked Will.

"We won't be putting any tracking devices or explosives on your fuel lines . . ." Len trailed off to allow the sentence sink into Will's brain.

Will's frown betrayed his emotions, but Len Mathers had started walking back toward the office of the FAA headquarters when Will stopped.  Len walked a couple more steps, then stopped and turned around to face William.

"How did you know about that?" Will asked.

"Well, we picked up a man up in Vegas last night who was bragging about helping to cause a plane crash.  He'd had a little too much to drink and someone who'd been on the plane searching for yours heard him.  He contacted the authorities, and had the man taken into custody.  The Police knew of the search, and contacted the FAA there."

"Ronald Goodwin, a close friend of mine and head of the FAA there knew of my search for you, and contacted us.  That's when we learned your plane had went down.  We thought you'd crashed and probably both killed.  There's certainly not much landing space in the area your Mayday call recorded.  We had no idea as to how you'd fared."

"Well, it's all in the report.  If you're about through with me, then we'd like to go to a motel.  Call me when you're through with my plane.  OK?"

"Well, that's all fine and good, but, we're not quite through with you yet.  We'll explain it at headquarters." Len finished.

As they walked up to the building, a long black car pulled up.  The window opened a little at the top and an envelope was pushed out.

Len asked "is the transport ready?"

"Yeah, eta., fifteen minutes.  I'll send instructions to come straight here," was the reply and the car sped off.

William heard a "clear," and heard his plane start.  He turned around to see the guy who had stepped into his path at the controls.  He heard her engine wind up, saw the little plane ease forward, turned sharp around and start to taxi out.  

"Hey!" Where's he going with my plane?" he demanded of Len.  He looked up and Len stood facing him, snapping the envelope in his hand.  He then responded to Will's question.  "They've found something in your plane that shouldn't be.  Are the co-ordinates correct as to the place where you landed?"

"Why wouldn't they be?" Will was getting cross.  

"Will," Len began.  "We've some talking to do, both directions.  You're gonna be here a while.  So, we'll put you and Sharon up, but, we need your cell phones.  Also, we'll have to put you through some rigorous physical testing.  We have reason to believe you've been implanted with a tracking device."

Will was incredulous.  What he heard in the next fifteen minutes was almost more than he could believe.  It was bordering on a fine line between super-natural and science fiction.  He was stunned at some of the things Len Mathers explained to him.  He chanced at look over at Sharon and she sat as if in trance.  White faced, wide eyed, disbelieving, wanting to be out of the whole mess.

Fifteen minutes on the dot, the heavy they'd seen pulled up to the FAA building, and Will with Sharon in tow were ushered onto it led by a young colleague named Mulan.  Len Mathers was sporting a stunning lady with deep auburn hair.  She was very quiet and very dignified, and seemed to be quite shy as well.

The plane was in the air quite fast as it had already done all it's run-up and check lists.  By this time it was nigh onto midnight when they lifted off.  Will noted that they turned straight west and was climbing at a very steep rate of climb.

Something was strange.  Never at any time were Sharon and or Will left alone.  If one went to the restroom, someone went with them, and someone stayed with the other.  There were several attendants on the plane, and one was present with them at all times.

Sharon curled up on the small couch, laid her head on Williams lap and dozed fitfully.  Will just sat still and thought.  He was at a loss as to who these people really were, where they were being taken and, what they wanted.  He had an idea someone was wanting something that only he knew about, where it was, and how to get it.

Sharon didn't even know about it.  The only thing is, could he be hypnotized to reveal the location?  Could he be hypnotized to recall the entire codes that Gilroy had placed within his care upon his death?  Were these people really the FBI?  Or did they represent even a higher authority than the FBI?  Were they really on his side?  Were they really wanting to protect him and Sharon?  Or were they really only interested in protecting The Codes?

Now, when did they become "The Codes?" Somewhere on the trip Will dozed.  He awoke at the sound of wheels touching down at an airport.   Sharon stirred also and when she started to stand after she sat up she was told to keep her seat.  Will started to protest and Len stepped around the corner, gun in hand said "keep your seat.  You are in the custody of the Federal Government.  You'll be taken off shortly."

Within five minutes of stopping, two guards in uniform came in.  One carried a set of leg chains, the other two sets of hand-cuffs.  

"Aw come on now."  William objected.  "We're not criminals.  We've done nothing wrong.  At least treat Sharon half way decent!" Will was shouting.

The tall guard looked at Will and growled.  "One more word out of you, and you'll be dragged out of here missing half your teeth and unconscious!  Hear?"

Will just looked at him.  If he was to get them out of this deal, he'd have to be extremely careful, and, conscious.  "Man," he thought.  It just keeps getting worse and worse.  We were better off in Vegas!  He had no idea where they even were.

Will and Sharon were taken from the heavy, in custody of the Federal Bureau of Investigation like hardened criminals.  Not far away, the whole scene was watched and recorded through a telescope.

Will was thinking that if they wanted to, their captors could make them disappear by simply crashing their plane back into the little clearing and burning it along with a couple of corpses.

"I already know of a female corpse," he thought, his mind going back to the woman he found at the warehouse.  That whole deal was very puzzling to him as well.  He wondered where Sgt Chris James was.

He was glad he had confided in, and, related that whole ordeal to Sharon.  At least she would understand a little better what he was going through.

Will and Sharon were separated by a couple of women who steered Sharon to the right down a hall and out of site where she was strip searched, placed into a cell separate from William.

William was treated in the same manner, but his room was a lot different than Sharons.

"But," Will thought.  "I don't see how our plight could get any worse . . . now that we're in the custody of the FBI.  At least we're safe and protected in here.

But, it would, and, in just a few short hours.  The image of the Grim Reaper and the chill of death seemed to hoover close to Williams throughts, always looking over his shoulder.  Was he close to losing his life as a result of someone's greed?  He would know the answer to that in less than twenty four hours.

With him locked away not being able to see the sunrise nore the sunset, William surmised he'd seen his last of either . . .

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