Montana, somewhere between heaven and earth
For a minute Adams fought against the elements, but he was fighting a losing battle. "Hang on!" he finally shouted. "We're gonna crash!"
Only moments later the passengers were shaken up through and through. The screeching sound of tearing metal deafened their ears ... And then the 'Piper' came to a standstill: They were on the ground.
To Ed it was clear that their pilot had taken the brunt of the impact. He stood up and, pulling his prisoner with him, he took a look at the front part of the airplane. There was Adams, pinned to his seat. When he looked his way, Ed saw that his face was contorted in pain. The engine block had been pushed back and a part of it was now on one of his legs.
"Get out of here, the engine is burning," he ordered his passengers in a firm and admirably calm tone of voice, considering that he was facing death if – or rather when – the aircraft would explode.
"Eve, get out!" Ed shouted to her, and to Stark: "Give me a hand!" Then he turned around, intending to remove the heavy block and free Adams.
Stark didn't show the slightest inclination to comply. He took advantage of the situation instead. He attacked the Sergeant who at this instant wasn't paying any attention to him. Two, three times he managed to hit Brown, using his weight as leverage. Obviously he wanted to get the key to the handcuffs. Ed cursed himself for being distracted – and his prisoner for being so selfish in such danger. In the narrow aircraft, his superior height being no help at all, he could hardly retaliate. He had to act quickly since Stark kept hitting him, knocking the wind out of his lungs and keeping him in a defensive mode.
Ed finally managed to pull Stark out of the burning wreck – of course only because Stark didn't resist. But then he turned his back to Stark for a split second and threw him over his shoulder in the best judo technique. He pulled his gun and the prisoner froze.
Ed threw Eve, who had come back during the short fight, a quick look, and she was trained enough to understand what he wanted her to do. She pulled her weapon too. The Sergeant opened his side of the handcuff and put it around Stark's left wrist before the perplexed man was able to pull himself together, and took two steps back. "Now get up and take five steps away from the aircraft!" Stark did as he was told.
Carefully keeping her distance from the violent man Eve directed him further away from the dangerous fire.
Meanwhile Ed hastened back into the aircraft.
"Get out, son! The kerosene may explode any moment!" Adams shouted.
Of course Ed didn't listen. With all his strength he tried to lift the engine block. He didn't stand a chance.
"Leave me, or we're both going to buy the farm!" Obviously he didn't know Sgt. Edward Brown.
Ed noticed that the joystick somehow had been broken out of its unit. He picked it up and used it as a lever. Adams was able to pull his broken leg out from under the engine, almost fainting because of the pain this caused.
Ed couldn't avoid hurting him some more by pulling him out of the 'Piper'. Once outside he shouldered Adams' compact body. For a moment he staggered under the considerable weight, but he quickly regained his balance and, with him in the fireman's carry, he ran away from the burning aircraft as quickly as he could.
Eve was holding Stark at gunpoint. They were a good bit ahead of Ed with his burden, and Eve looked back asking herself if she could be of any assistance. At this instant a huge flame shot out of the 'Piper' and its tank exploded. Ed was knocked off his feet. He tried to avoid falling onto Adams' legs and hit the ground at an awkward angle. For a minute they were both lying there, trying to get their breath back. Then Ed picked himself up and anxiously addressed Adams: "I'm sorry. Are you alright?"
"No worse than two minutes ago," answered the pilot. Eve came by with the prisoner.
Ed sighed in relief but he had to face the next problem immediately: "Sir, did you manage an emergency call before we crashed?"
"Don't call me 'Sir'. My name's Charley. That was a stupid thing to do, son, but I am glad you did it. Thank you. About the 'mayday' I don't know. I tried but probably too late."
"We can't stay here or we will freeze to death within a few hours. Do you know if there are any farms or lodges around here?"
"No. There may be some shacks further down in the forest, but I don't think that I could find them. We wouldn't be able to find the trails people use to get to them because they are covered by snow. And of course there's nobody there at this time of year."
"Is there any chance that we could walk back to the airfield?"
"That's quite ambitious, young man. I'd say that we are more than 40 miles away from it – airline distance of course."
"We don't have much choice, I'm afraid," Ed stated.
Adams nodded. "There's a road leading from the airfield to this area, although a lot further north. If we don't arrive in Missoula soon, air control will call Rona airport. Of course they won't know where we are, but if Rona send out a search party for us, they could use that road, I suppose."
"Then that's where we are headed, agreed?"
"Agreed," Adams nodded again.
It kept amazing Eve how Ed was able to stay focused in difficult situations and take decisions – but as soon as Chief Ironside was present he acted like a school boy, was unconfident and made silly mistakes while trying to please the Chief. Now he naturally took the initiative, calm and level-headed.
The high plateau looked more or less flat but it was covered with big stones and rocks: a stone desert without any trail. There were about eight inches of powder snow: impossible to build an igloo out of it which would protect them. A sharp, cold wind arose and penetrated their clothes. To make matters worse, it started snowing again.
Ed noticed that Eve was shivering. This was definitely no place for a woman like her, and her clothes were a lot less adequate for this weather than his own. Stark was wearing a heavy fur coat and Adams had his warm pilot jacket. He felt bad for Eve, but there was not much he could do. He remembered only too well his promise to the Chief that he would keep her warm and safe. He would have to worry about her safety later, but at least he would not let her freeze any longer. "Eve, take my coat, I'm warm enough," he lied.
Of course she declined his offer. Then she saw the look on his face and changed her mind: He was feeling responsible for their situation and would feel even worse seeing her shivering than being cold himself. "Thank you, Ed." And after a moment of thought she added: "We will get back safely. I trust you." He answered with a shadow of his usual smile.
"And how do you plan to get me there?" asked Adams, convinced that the Sergeant wouldn't under any circumstances leave him behind. He knew this kind of man: It was his own kind. Giving his coat to his colleague had only confirmed Adams' opinion.
Ed was already looking for a piece of metal from the airplane to use as a makeshift splint. He found one with a sharp bend. The short part of it would support Adams' foot. Eve helped him fix the splint around Adams' broken leg with his tie and his handkerchief, padding it with her scarf. Adams had to suppress a groan while they tried to align the bones. He was determined not to make it more difficult for these young people whom he had already taken a liking to.
"Okay, Stark, we will carry Adams between the two of us." Ed freed the prisoner from his handcuffs.
"Forget it, kid!"
Flabbergasted Ed stared at him. Then he pulled his gun.
Stark just laughed at him. "You won't shoot me, kid; you don't have the guts to kill an unarmed man. Moreover you are responsible for me. And you can't shoot to hurt me; or else I will charge you with police brutality. Why don't you carry this man yourself, if you don't want to leave him here?"
Ed knew that Stark was right. He wouldn't shoot him. He felt helpless and angry about his own lack of authority. It would be very difficult to assist the pilot alone. Eve would have to guard Stark. He felt sorry for her. She was shivering even under two coats.
"Let's go. And no tricks. Staying here would be cold for you too," Ed snapped angrily.
"I'm all nice and warm!" Stark laughed.
Enraged Eve answered: "Then lend Sgt. Brown your fancy fur coat. You have some fat reserves, he doesn't!"
"Oh no, lady, I won't do that. And he won't take it. You know: police brutality!"
San Francisco
Ironside was having his early chili dinner with Mark when the telephone rang. Mark picked up the receiver and pushed the button of the loudspeaker as soon as he realized that this was no routine call. The Chief sat motionless in his chair, frozen, as if made of stone, when he heard that the airplane had taken off in spite of the weather … and had not reached Missoula yet. It looked as if it had just vanished. Eve and Ed sat in that airplane. His Eve, beautiful, charming, smart, wonderful Eve, and Ed, his right-hand man... no, it could not be. He would not be able to face the fact that...
He snapped back into working mode. Within seconds his quick-thinking mind checked dozens of possibilities. Had the pilot just chosen to land somewhere before Missoula because of the bad weather? Because the weather in the Rocky Mountains was still bad indeed, he had heard it on the radio. If it had been the case, Ed would have called him by now…unless the phone lines were down...
"Do you think that the airplane crashed?" Mark voiced the most horrible thought in Ironside's head, considering that Eve and Ed were on board.
"That is a possibility. But it's a small plane, the pilot might also have made a forced landing."
Their considerations were interrupted by another call. Ironside picked up the phone at the first ring. He fired a few questions which didn't help Mark understand what the phone call was all about. When the Chief put the receiver down, his face still looked thoughtful but not hopeless any more.
"A little boy somewhere on a farm in Montana was toying with his parents' radio. He claims he heard an emergency call and something that sounded like a crash to him. His father didn't know if he should believe him, since he likes to invent stories, to say the least. Still he decided to inform the police ..." Ironside's voice trailed away because he was already considering how to go on. "Mark, get me the best map of Montana in the whole department and a pair of compasses!"
Mark left to do as he had been told. Meanwhile Ironside phoned the small airfield in Rona, Montana.
"Do you believe the farmer's kid?" Mark asked, putting the requested items onto the table.
"If you were ten years old and you had taken your parents' radio although you were not allowed to, would you tell them that you heard a 'mayday' if you hadn't? So the boy probably would not risk a tanning just to tell a lie, don't you think so?"
This sounded logical.
Ironside fetched a notebook and started calculating. Mark watched him curiously. The Chief set the pair of compasses and drew a semicircle with a radius of 45 miles around Rona, Nevada.
Finally he deigned to explain: "The aircraft was a 'Piper Cherokee Six'. Its cruising speed is about 165 miles per hour. This semicircle shows how far the 'Piper' could have flown at most if the time indicated by the boy is correct," Ironside stated. "It's probably less than that, because they had some headwind. We also know the coordinates of the farm. It's situated north-west of the airfield. Let's suppose that the farmer has a standard radio like the ones often used by farmers. In that case there had to be a line of sight between the aircraft and the radio, otherwise the boy could not have picked up the 'mayday'. Since he reported hearing a crash as well, we can assume that the signal could not have come from further away than from the ridges of the mountains. The snowfall and storm had subdued somewhat right then, so the reception was probably not reduced much further." Thoroughly Ironside drew a line following the ridges of the mountains around the farm.
The two lines cut one another.
"This region between the lines" - Mark pointed at the map – "this intersection - is this where we should look for the airplane?" he asked.
Ironside nodded. "If we assume that the airplane was correctly on its way to Missoula when the emergency call went out, which is rather probable, we can tell quite exactly where it would have crashed – if it actually has crashed." He drew a straight line from Rona to Missoula. It cut through the intersection of the two lines drawn previously.
"Problem is that this is a very lonely area. They would have to be very lucky to find any kind of shelter. There's a small mountain road to Rona from where you can also get to that farm. I have been told that the piper was flown by a very experienced pilot. I suppose he would know this road and probably try to reach it."
"Are you going to tell this to the Sheriff of Rona county and ask him to send out a rescue team?" Mark wanted to know.
"No, I won't." Mark looked at him bewildered.
"Firstly people in Rona will sooner or later come to the same conclusion – or rather have come to it already. And secondly I would like to know first if whatever has happened was accidental or if anybody wanted to prevent the airplane from reaching its destination."
Mark was shocked about this possibility. "Because of Ed and Eve?"
"Hardly, as in that case the prisoner would have to have been the buddy of whoever tried anything. Consequently they could not risk killing Stark with them. So, if there is a crime behind it, I suppose that it was directed against Stark."
"And now you think that if somebody tried something they might try again?" Mark asked.
Ironside nodded, but seeing Mark's worried face he tried to calm him: "They may be perfectly fine. Let's stay cool, as you young people like to say."
Mark nodded, although he thought that the Chief didn't look all that cool himself.
"I want to know what happened... and if it was no accident: why," Ironside stated.