Page 121 of Mountain Grump
“So you know that’s likesuperillegal, yeah?”
I roll my eyes again. “I got the impression that wouldn’t bother you.”
The man chuckles. “Why, Ranger Grant, whatever gave you that impression?”
Stoleman and I met one night last fall.
It was late. Past dark. And I’d never seen him there before.
He was in the hangar next to mine, and we closed our doors at the same time. Done for the night.
He was dressed in all black, carrying a large duffel, and I introduced myself.
When we shook hands, I noted the smoke smell.
Bonfire. Not cigarette.
I asked if he took the lease out on the hangar beside mine. He told me it belonged to a buddy of his, but he was in town for the weekend and keeping an eye on things.
We exchanged numbers. And went our own ways.
I haven’t seen him since.
Not sure his friend even still has a plane there.
“There won’t be a strip for landing,” I tell him. “It’ll have to be a chopper. Not your friend’s plane.”
Stoleman grunts. “That’s back up north. But I know a guy with a helicopter.”
“Good.”
“Hmm, what time is it?” Something creaks, like Stoleman’s shifting in a chair. “Dude’s kinda old. And he never does anything the next day. But if you can hold tight until Sunday, I can tell him to pick you up at noon.”
“That’ll work. Ready for the coordinates?”
Furniture creaks again. “Ready.”
I tell Stoleman the memorized coordinates.
“You got food? Or do you need the pilot to bring calories?”
“We’ll be fine.”
“If you say so.” I hear a door open and close. “This a sat phone number?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll call tomorrow at noon if there’s a change of plans. If you don’t hear from me, he’ll be there Sunday. Give him the code word Bunny.”
I shake my head. “Sure. What’s the cost?”
“I’ll pay the pilot. Then I’ll decide.”
“Decide what?”
“If I’d rather have money or a favor from a ranger.”
I open my mouth to tell him cash is the only payment he’ll get, but the line goes dead.
