Shane's car darted in and out of traffic as they sped toward the airfield. The early morning Salem traffic had already started, forcing Shane to dodge slower-moving cars to carve a quick path to Kim and Kayla.
Bob's story had checked out. It had taken about 20 minutes after the man revealed his information, but Shane had tracked down the manager of the airfield and, pretending to be police, had asked about the man who had rented Hangar Four. The manager had never met the man personally, but confirmed that the hangar was rented right before the school shooting. Then the manager added that the man had filed a flight plan for North Carolina earlier in the morning.
Shane had not mentioned that detail to Steve. Shane doubted Winters was leaving immediately; he still had to get Jeannie. And the last thing Shane wanted was Steve frantic about whether they would reach the airfield in time. As that thought crossed his mind, Shane finished passing a slow-moving truck and glanced out the corner of his eye at Steve, who was checking his pistol and making sure it was loaded for about the sixth time.
That reminded Shane of something. "Do me a favor. In the glove compartment. . . ." Shane motioned in that direction. "I've got a back-up piece in there. Can you double-check it?"
Steve nodded, as he finished with his own gun, then opened the glove compartment and pulled out the M9. "I remember this," he said with a grimace. "Your little souvenir from Egypt."
"Yep." Shane focused on the road, as he swerved to avoid a sedan turning left.
"Hey, don't kill us before we even get there."
"I have no intention of killing anyone except Winters," Shane said. Then he thought of something else and picked up the car phone.
"What are you doing?" Steve asked.
Shane did not slow the car, even as looked down to dial. "Calling Abe. I want to get the Salem PD here for back-up." Shane had tried Roman's house earlier from the bar, but Marlena had said he was checking out a lead. Abe would have to do.
Steve scowled. "I'm not waiting for them to get there. When we get to that hangar, I'm going in."
"I don't remember saying anything about waiting. That leaves too good a chance that we would lose the element of surprise." Shane paused, as he heard the phone begin to ring.
"Carter," said the voice on the other end of the phone.
"Abe, it's Shane Donovan. Steve found what we think is a good lead on Winters. A man fitting his description rented a private hangar at Broxton Airfield. Winters probably figures he'll be able to fly out of here in a private plane."
There was a pause on the other end. "But why hasn't he left already?"
"I don't know for sure," Shane answered. "I suspect he doesn't have everything he wants."
"Meaning?"
"Jeannie, Abe. His plan was probably to take Kim and Jeannie together, but he messed up. I think he's about to make a move for her." Shane felt sick just at the thought of that.
Abe seemed to understand. "I'll send some extra units to your house. Do you want me to send some uniforms to check out the airfield?"
"No," Shane said sharply. "No uniforms. If Winters is there and spots police, he might panic and hurt Kim and Kayla. Steve and I are nearly there, and we'll check it out. It's hanger number four. If Winters is there, we'll find him."
Abe grew silent before asking, "Are you sure about that? I mean you were the one who doubted Steve could handle being a cop."
Shane had to admit that was true. He had worried about Steve's mental fitness, but Steve had passed the test at the bar. Besides, Shane really had no choice. He looked at Steve, who was staring out the front of the car with a look of grim determination.
"It'll be fine, Abe." Shane did not want to say that he would not have been able to stop Steve even if he wanted to. Besides, Bob the drunk had been Steve's lead. He could have kept it to himself, but he had trusted Shane. Steve had every right to follow it through. "Just get some plainclothes back-up to Broxton. See if you can find Roman." Then another thought crossed his mind. "And send out some paramedics just in case; we don't know if he's hurt anyone." That sick feeling returned as Shane thought, If you've done anything to hurt them, Winters, you're a dead man.
"Got it," Abe said. "I'm sending them out right now."
"Don't use the police band in case he's monitoring it," Shane added. "We're not going to wait. If we can surprise him, now's the time." He hung up the phone before Abe could protest, then looked at Steve. "Good?"
"Good," Steve said with a nod.
Neither said another word until they came to a stop at the airfield. They got out of the car and Steve handed Shane the second gun. He normally did not bother with a back-up pistol, but this seemed like one of the times to have one. Shane checked the magazine to see that it was full and then stuck the back-up in the waistband of his pants. The weight against the small of his back gave a small sense of reassurance that they were as prepared as they ever would be.
Before they approached Hangar Four, Shane walked to the hangar nearest the entrance of the airfield.
"That's the wrong one," Steve said, pointing to a large number "1" on the building.
Shane rolled his eyes. "Reconnaissance," he said, as he studied the building. "Quick reconnaissance," Shane added, to address Steve's impatience.
The building he approached appeared similar to the others that were visible. The front of each building faced the runways and had a large overhead door visible from the outside, through which the planes entered and exited. On the side of the building nearly at the same end was a human-sized door with a window next to it. Shane glanced through a window and saw that the big door opened onto a large, open area that housed a plane. On the far side, opposite the overhead door, Shane could see a small door that either led outside or into a back room. Staying outside and trying to keep out of sight from other hangars, Shane jogged around the building to the back, where he spotted another small door and a couple of windows. Peering inside, Shane saw some rooms, which were probably used for offices and storage.
"You done?" Steve gave Shane an impatient glare.
Almost. Shane jogged back to the car, opened the door, reached behind the seat and pulled out a small, metal box.
"What's that?" Steve's voice came from close behind. At least he had followed Shane and had not run off half-cocked to the other hangar.
Shane looked at him. "Tools."
The building with number "4" on it was about 400 yards away. As they snuck toward it, Shane explained what he had observed and told Steve his plan. Then he repeated it a few more times. He looked over at Steve. "You go through the front-end door and I'll go through the back. Got it?"
"Yeah, I've got it, dude. You've only gone over this five times." Steve had his pistol out and was turning it over and over in his palm. "And before you say it, I'll wait for your signal."
"Okay." Shane wished they had a proper communications system, but there was no way he could have delayed Steve long enough to get one. A sharp whistle would have to do the trick. Shane pulled his gun from his shoulder holster and gave Steve one last look. "Good luck."
"Yeah," Steve said. "Good luck, dude."