Page 48 of Ground Truth

“It’ll do three hundred miles,” Tony said. “Long as you don’t gas it all the way there.”

“Is it full?”

“To the brim. We fuel up on return. Don’t charge no add-ons either.” Tony confirmed, as if these were fine bargaining points indeed.

“Okay,” Flint said after exchanging glances with Drake. “We’ll take it.”

“Where you headed?” Tony asked.

“Naples.”

“Over water?”

Flint nodded, “Yeah.”

“Two flare guns under the passenger seat,” Tony said. “And a life raft under the pilot’s. Pull the handle and it’ll inflate.”

“Sounds good.” Drake grinned. “This is just a sightseeing trip. We’re not expecting to need the raft.”

Tony gave him a hard look. “Might want to check it out. Best to be prepared. If you get my drift.”

“Yeah,” Flint replied quickly. He always traveled prepared. In this case, with a Glock pistol in a shoulder holster under his jacket and a Ka-Bar knife strapped to his ankle.

“I need a destination for the log,” Tony said. “We do get audited from time to time.”

“Wing South Airpark,” said Drake, pulling his license from his wallet. “I’ll be flying.”

Tony delivered another hard stare. “Just the two of you, right?”

Drake nodded.

Tony tilted his head toward Flint. “No offense, just you don’t seem in the best of health.”

“No offense taken,” Flint said, but he didn’t argue.

Tony was more astute than he looked. Which meant Flint and Drake had been appropriately circumspect around him.

They followed Tony into the rental office. Drake filled out a mass of paperwork. Twenty minutes later the Robinson was out on the apron. Drake checked over the controls and ran the engine to warm everything up.

Flint was impatient. They were burning daylight. They had a lot of surface to cover and he didn’t want to be doing this again tomorrow.

Finally, Drake was ready. “Okay. Get in.”

The Robinson had simple seat belts, not much different from the type in any road vehicle. They weren’t the more specialized four- or five-point harnesses. But for a hundred-mile sightseeing jaunt they’d be just fine.

Flint donned his headset, a reasonably new-looking Bose with great noise reduction. Conversation between the pair of them would be easy.

Twisting his head, he could see around. Almost the entire front was transparent, from above his head all the way to his feet. There were two doors on either side with big windows.

The whole arrangement offered a great scenic view. Unfortunately, there were no vertical reference windows low down, the windows many helicopters had in the floor to help with landing or maneuvering over ground objects. A pity, since straight down was where Flint wanted to look, but they’d manage.

Drake wound up the revs and smoothly lifted the Robinson a few feet before nosing forward, gaining speed and altitude.

Tony watched from the hangar as they headed out. He gave an approving nod and disappeared back inside.

They kept about a mile offshore. Following the coast road and the long stretches of sand when the road disappeared. The coast twisted and turned, inlets and bays, some small, some large.

Flint spied boats of all sizes. Day-trip fishermen and pleasure craft. Powerboats that gave the Robinson a run for its money for a few moments. Farther out, a mega yacht cruised north, a handful of people around its swimming pool. The women scurried to cover up when the Robinson passed overhead.

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