Prologue

Brickman Airfield

Ontario Canada 1950

The ford trimotor plane bore the look of a ghost. Perhaps the snow on its wings bred the image, or perhaps it originated from steam created by water person entering the aircraft and the box being stowed only enhanced the creepy scene.

Todd Hamilton who shoved an envelope into Frank Paulson hand gave the the airplane one last look.

"The trip to Atkinson will be the first length of the trip. Once your done, you deliver the box to Tiffany's."

"Providing the leg over the Great Lakes doesn't give us any trouble."

"Is she onboard?"

"Yeah."

"And the box?"

"Securely fasten."

"There is nothing more."

"Why are you sending it to Tiffany's? Why not Cartiers?"

"You are to follow your orders regardless of how absurd they are."

"Yes sir."

"Oh, by the way."

"Yes."

"Good luck."

He pulled open the door to the ford trimotor and without saying good bye, climbed in. Ray Valentine, Paulson's co-pilot, preocupied his time by going over the weater forecast. Neither of them looked at the female passenger.

"What's Miami beach like?" Paulson inquired to Valentine.

"Can't say we'll have a smooth trip. A blizzard is forming on the shores of Lake Michigan."

A worried look came over paulson face, which didn't go unnoticed by Valentine. The pilot looked at the small metal box strapped to the planes floor and tried to mon up a way to get it open.

His contemplation was interupted by Ray Valentine. "All warmed up and ready to fly."

The first engine turn over followed by the other the aircraft began to taxi down the runway.

Todd Hamilton watch the plane crawl like a bug and a phone rang and he answered it.

" She wants to know did you give her a good send off?'

"You may inform Dr. Teller that she's on her way home."

"When will she arrive?"

"Oh, two days from now if nothing happens."

"Too bad! Most people don't know she's been living in Canada. But she wants to die in America."

Todd Hamilton hesitated in what seemed a long and horrible silenced. "Yes, Mr. Prime Minister. Thats how she wishes it to be."

During the next three hours, the plan evolved. The plane would disppear, making it seem that the passenger and the pilot and the co-pilot would be a casuaty of the unpredictable weather of the great lakes.

Frank Paulson got out of his seat and walked back to the rear of the airplane. Before he could get to the box the planes interior was filled with smoke.

"Ray?"

"Yeah?"

"What's going on?"

"Short in the radio and the wings are icing up. Were going down.."

"Can you see where to put down anywhere?"

"A field," Ray shouted. " a great big beautiful field."

There was no time to prepare her for a crash. It would be a land and hope the plane didn't tear itself apart. The field loomed and the landing gear scraped the ground and buckled. And then the aircraft rested, tilted to one side.

"Thank god. We did it." Ray mumbled.

Frank smiled coldly holding a smith and wesson revolver. His mind set a new plan. A series of frost covered window would hide his murderous deed. Slowly he crept up behind her and pointed the gun at the back of his head, then he do Ray in. They wouldn't know what hit them.

A rumbling vibration suddenly shook the ford trimotor, followed by a sharp cracking noise and the screech of metal beeing bent and twisted.

The white outside the window dissolved into a dense wall of icy inkiness and then there was nothin.

At her office at oak ridge, Dr. Teller studied the flight plan of the ford tri-motor. The desk phone rang and she picked it up.

"Yes?"

" Dr. Teller? A familiar voice said

"Yes Mr. President?"

"You left notice of an idea for the public to contemplate whatever has happen is a mystery."

"True," said Teller quietly. "I see no sense in wasting hours of searching."

"In your opinion what really happened."

"She's lying on the bottom of the Great Lakes." Answered Teller

"you feel she hasn't a chance of resurfacing?"

"I do."

"I'll close the file and bury it deep."

Dr. Teller set the receiver in the cradle and went stared at the flight plan again "Where did you go?" she said aloud to herself "Where are you?"

The reply never came. Nothing ever turn up. It was as if the ford trimotor flew into limbo.