2. Noah
Chapter two
Noah
“ A m I free to go?” I ask, looking from one stern face to the next.
Agent Fields’ mouth is set in a hard line. I can tell the last thing he wants to do is let me go, but I’ve done everything they asked me to do. After all, I’m not who they want. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.
“Our investigation didn’t turn up anything that implicates you or your business,” he says reluctantly.
“Yeah, like I’ve said from the beginning. I’m not a criminal. What about Vincent? Is he locked up?”
“It’s handled,” he replies.
“Handled? As in, he’s not going to be coming after me?”
“Your biggest worry should be vetting your clients a little better in the future. You don’t want a visit from us again.”
“Good idea,” I smirk. “I’ll make it part of my next marketing campaign. Tundra Charters: we don’t transport drugs. ”
He didn’t find my sarcasm funny. Well, I didn’t find him funny, so we were even.
“We’ll be in touch,” Agent Fields says.
“I’d rather you weren’t.”
There is no love lost between us. I get to my feet, half-expecting them to slap some cuffs on me. When they don’t, I leave the office, finally feeling free.
The investigation had lasted too long. I pray it is my last brush with the law. It had been intense. The tension in my shoulders finally eases. Months of stress and sleepless nights melt away as I let out a long, relieved breath. I pull my phone from my pocket and dial my buddy’s number. He’s the only one who knows about the trouble I’ve been dealing with. I certainly couldn’t have anyone finding out I was talking with the DEA. Right now, I am an anonymous witness. I need to keep it that way. Although, I wasn’t foolish enough to believe Vincent and his thugs wouldn’t figure it out.
“Hey, Jack. It’s Noah. Just got out of the meeting with the DEA.”
There’s a pause on the other end. “And?”
“It’s handled. I’m in the clear. They got the guy who was running the drugs. I’m off the hook. ”
“Holy shit, that’s great news! I know you weren’t involved, but man, you’ve been through hell.”
“Tell me about it,” I grunt, walking through the parking lot toward my truck. “I had to drop ten grand on a lawyer just to make sure I didn’t get screwed. I need to get back to business—make up for the lost time.”
“Yeah, I hear you. Well, at least you can move on now. Are you sure there won’t be any blowback? Did they nab the whole crew?”
“Sounds like it,” I reply as I slide behind the wheel. “Agent Fields said it was handled.”
“The last thing you need is retribution,” he jokes.
“No kidding. Thanks for having my back through all this. I really thought they were going to throw my ass in prison. They told me to be careful who I fly.”
He laughs. “Yeah, because drug runners often advertise what they are carrying.”
“Exactly what I said. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that the nightmare is over. I’ve got a charter this afternoon, so I’ll catch up with you tomorrow or this weekend. We need to go out and celebrate.”
“Call me. We’ll do it. The first round’s on me. ”
I hang up and slip the phone back into my pocket. The relief is short-lived; I still have a lot of work to catch up on. I have been sidelined throughout the investigation. No flying, no money. I’ve burned through a massive chunk of my savings. I need to get back in the air.
I swing by my house, pack my go bag, and head to the airport. On the way, I can see the thick clouds. Snow is coming. This is Alaska—snow is always coming. We are on the precipice of spring, but from the look of the sky, it won’t be long before the flakes start flying.
I get to the private airport where my bush plane is stored in a hangar and check the weather. A storm is coming in, but I should be able to get my client to her destination and get back to Fairbanks before it hits. It’ll be close, but I can do it.
I go through my pre-flight checks and wait.
And then wait some more.
My patience is wearing thin. I check my watch again, irritation simmering. My client is forty minutes late. People think that because we’re in Alaska and they aren’t dealing with a major airline, they can show up when they want. I’m tempted to cancel the charter. She can find another way.
Just when I’m ready to throw in the towel, I see her approaching. She’s dragging a large suitcase with a smaller one balanced on top. She looks flustered, her face red from exertion or maybe embarrassment.
“I’m so sorry I’m late,” she says breathlessly. “My flight into Fairbanks was delayed. I got here as quickly as I could.”
I nod, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice. “It’s fine. Let’s get your bags loaded up. We need to get going if we want to stay on schedule.”
She isn’t what I expected. Young. Pretty. Tiny. Most of my clients are hunters or survivalist types. She looks like a strong breeze might blow her away.
I reach for her suitcase, but she snatches it back. “I need the top one.”
“It’s not a big plane,” I remind her. “It’s not going far.”
“I’ll keep this one with me.”
My little spidey senses go off. I am not about to get myself into another illegal situation. “Look, if you’re carrying drugs or guns or anything else that’s illegal, you’re not getting on my plane. ”
She frowns at me. “Illegal? It’s my camera.”
“Let me see.”
“No!”
“Then you’re not bringing it onboard,” I snap.
Her eyes narrow. I can see she’s getting pissed, but I don’t budge. I’ve learned my lesson. The DEA will not let me off the hook again. It won’t matter how innocent I am.
Finally, she jerks the zipper and opens the bag. “Camera. See? Happy now?”
“I was happy forty minutes ago,” I mutter, dragging her suitcase onto the plane. “Let’s go!”
She climbs aboard. I hand her the headset and quickly settle into the cockpit. She takes the seat next to mine instead of the one in the back.
“Ever flown in a bush plane before?” I ask as I start the engines.
“Lots of times.”
I can’t tell if she’s joking. Most of my clients have never flown in a small plane—except the locals with cabins off the grid. She seems at ease and knows exactly what to do with the headset. It’s not long before we’re climbing into the air. Once we’re at a safe altitude, I relax a little. But I’m not liking what I’m seeing. The storm is coming in fast—much faster than the radar indicated.
“I’m Mia,” she says, her voice coming over the comms. “I am sorry I was late.”
“It’s fine. I’m Noah.”
She looks out the window, completely comfortable. I’ve grown accustomed to nervous chatter or overzealous excitement from my passengers. Her calmness is a surprising contrast. We glide through the sky, the expanse of snow and pristine forests spread out below. The view is something I never truly get used to.
The wind begins to pick up as we get further from Fairbanks. The thick clouds I saw earlier have started to catch up with us, making my already frayed nerves jump.
“Storm’s picking up,” I mutter, more to myself than Mia. “Things might get a little bumpy.”
“I thought it wasn’t due to hit this far north.”
“Yeah, I’ll be sure to let the weather service know.”
I hold onto the yoke a bit tighter, angling our nose down slightly, hoping the lower altitude will be a bit less choppy. The wind slams against the plane, tossing it sideways. I correct it, easing back on the throttle. Mia gasps and grips the armrests of her seat.
“Don’t worry,” I assure her, keeping my tone steady despite the tightening knot of anxiety in my gut. “I’ve flown in worse weather than this.”
The turbulence increases, causing our small plane to jostle and pitch. The winds grow stronger, as the storm advances. My heart jolts with adrenaline as I wrestle with the controls, trying to keep us level.
She grabs my arm, her nails digging into my wrist through the fabric of my sleeve. “Are we going to be okay?”
“Yes,” I insist into the mic. I can hear the sound of howling wind and the engine’s whine, even with my headset firmly in place. “We’re just hitting some rough air. We’ll be fine.”
Gritting my teeth and leaning into the controls, I push us forward. The plane lurches as another powerful gust hits us. My pulse spikes, blood thrumming loudly in my ears as I check my instruments and battle with the controls. The sky is slate-gray when the snow-filled clouds finally overtake us .
“We need to head back,” she shouts, her voice high and strained.
“No,” I snap. “That would point us directly into the blizzard. Besides, we are closer to our destination than to Fairbanks.”
I glance over at her. She stares at me with wide eyes before facing forward with a determined look. I’m grateful she’s silent because I need to focus. Flying through the snow squall is taking all my concentration, and I’m responsible for keeping us safe.
Fighting against the wind, I try shifting our course slightly northeast in an attempt to get out of the cloudburst. For a few tense moments, it seems like we might escape the worst of it. But then a gust of wind slams into us head-on, forcing the plane up and then sharply down. Mia lets out a squeal of fright. I nearly scream myself. Without looking away from the windshield, I reach over to pat her hand reassuringly.
“Are you strapped in tight?”
Her slim fingers fumble with the seatbelt and pull the strap tighter as we drop sharply into a pocket of blinding snow. The wind rattles the plane, making it shudder under the stress. I grit my teeth and wrestle the controls, fighting against every gust and squall.
“Hold on!” I order, knowing that this is far from over.
In the back of my mind, a little voice is berating me for even trying to beat the storm. But I am a good pilot. I’ve flown in rough weather before. Hell, I cut my teeth flying through snowstorms. I take a deep breath and do my best to find smoother air.
Finally, I find it. Things settle. I know it’s a momentary reprieve. The storm is a monster. This is why flying in the Alaskan outback is a crapshoot.
“Is it over?” she asks.
“No.”
I glance over and see her face pale. I take a second to really look at her. She might be the last face I see. In the grand scheme of things, I guess that’s not a bad thing. She’s beautiful. If I’m about to meet my maker, my last memory will be her hazel eyes staring back at me.