Tears filled my eyes as I watched a blurry Lucy checking to make sure the fuel cap was tight. Then she began untying the main rotor blades. McGovern handed me a Kleenex. She gently squeezed my arm.

'You were brilliant, Kay. For one thing, had you not found out what you did, we wouldn't have had a thing to list on the warrant. We couldn't have even gotten one, and then where would we be? Yes, we haven't caught them yet, but at least we know who. And we will find them.'

'We found what they wanted us to,' I told her.

Lucy had finished her inspection and looked my way.

'I guess I'd better go,' I said to McGovern. 'Thank you.'

I took her hand and squeezed it.

'Take care of Lucy,' I said.

'I think she does a pretty good job of taking care of herself.'

I got out and turned around once to wave goodbye. I opened the copilot's door and climbed up in the seat, then fastened my harness. Lucy slipped her checklist out of a pocket on the door, and went down it, zeroing in on switches and circuit breakers, and making sure the collective was down, the throttle off. My heart would not beat normally, and my breathing was shallow.

We took off and nosed around into the wind. McGovern watched us climb, a hand shielding her eyes. Lucy handed me a sectional chart and said I was to help navigate. She lifted into a hover and contacted Air Traffic Control.

'Wilmington tower, this is helicopter two-one-niner Sierra Bravo.'

'Go ahead, helicopter two-one-niner, Wilmington tower.'

'Requesting clearance from university athletic field, direct to your location for ISO Aero. Over.'

'Contact tower when entering pattern. Cleared from present position, on course, stay with me and report down and secure at ISO.'

'Two Sierra Bravo, wilco.'

Then Lucy transmitted to me, 'We'll be following a three-three-zero heading. So your job after we gas up will be keeping the gyro consistent with the compass and helping out with the map.'

She climbed to five hundred feet and the tower contacted us again.

'Helicopter two Sierra Bravo,' the voice came over the air. 'Traffic is unidentified and at your six o'clock, three hundred feet, closing.'

'Two Sierra Bravo is looking, no joy.'

'Unidentified aircraft two miles southeast of airport, identify yourself,' the tower transmitted to all who could hear.

We were answered by nothing.

'Unidentified aircraft in Wilmington airspace, identify yourself,' the tower repeated.

Silence followed.

Lucy saw the aircraft first, directly behind us and below horizon, meaning its altitude was lower than ours.

'Wilmington tower,' she said over the air. 'Helicopter two Sierra Bravo. Have low-flying aircraft in sight. Will maintain separation.

'Something's not right,' Lucy commented to me, turning around in her seat to look behind us again.

24

IT WAS A dark speck at first, flying after us, directly in our path and gaining on us. As it got closer it became white. Then it turned into a Schweizer with sunlight glinting of f the bubble. My heart jumped as I was seized by fear.

'Lucy!' I exclaimed.

'I've got it in sight,' she said, instantly angry. 'Fuck. I don't believe this.'

She pulled up on the collective and we began a steep climb. The Schweizer maintained the same altitude, moving faster than we were for as we gained altitude, our speed dropped to seventy knots. Lucy pushed the cyclic forward as the Schweizer gained on us, swerving in closer on our starboard side, where Lucy was sitting. Lucy keyed the mike.

'Tower. Unidentified aircraft making aggressive moves,' she said. 'Will be making evasive maneuvers. Contact local police authorities, suspect in unidentified aircraft known armed and dangerous fugitive. Will avoid built-up areas, will take evasive actions towards water.'

'Roger helicopter. Am contacting local authorities.'

Then the tower switched to over-the-guard frequency.

'Attention any aircraft, this is Wilmington tower on-guard, aircraft traffic area is now closed to incoming traffic. Any ground traffic halt movement. Repeat, aircraft traffic area is now closed to incoming traffic. Any ground traffic, halt movement. All aircraft this frequency, immediately switch to Wilmington approach control on Victor 135.75 or Uniform 343.9. I say again, all aircraft this frequency immediately switch to Wilmington approach control on Victor 135.75 or Uniform 343.9. Helicopter two Sierra Bravo, remain this frequency.'

'Roger, two Sierra Bravo,' Lucy returned.

I knew why she was heading toward the ocean. If we went down, she didn't want it to be in a populated area where others might get hurt or killed. I also was certain that Carrie had predicted Lucy would do exactly this, because Lucy was good. She would always put others first. She turned to the east, the Schweizer following our every move but maintaining the same distance behind us of maybe a hundred yards, as if confident that it didn't need to be in a hurry. That's when I realized that Carrie had probably been watching us all along.

'It can't go over ninety knots,' Lucy said to me, and our tension was rising like heat.

'She saw us come in straight to the field earlier today,' I said. 'She knows we haven't refueled.'

We flew at an angle over the beach and followed it briefly over bright splashes of color that were swimmers and sunbathers. They stopped what they were doing and stared straight up at two helicopters speeding over them and out to sea. Half a mile over the ocean, Lucy began to slow down.

'We can't keep this up,' she told me, and it seemed a pronouncement of doom. 'We lose our engine, we'll never make it back, and we're low on fuel.'

The gauge read less than twenty gallons. Lucy pushed us into a sharp one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn. The Schweizer was maybe fifty feet below us and head on. The sun made it impossible to see who was inside, but I knew. I had not a single doubt, and when it was no more than five hundred feet from us and coming up on Lucy's side, I felt several rapid-fire jolts, like quick slaps, and we suddenly swerved. Lucy grabbed her pistol from her shoulder holster.

'They're shooting at us!' she exclaimed to me.

I thought of the submachine gun, the Calico missing from Sparkes's collection.

Lucy fought to open her door. She jettisoned it and it tumbled through the air, sailing down and away. She slowed our speed.

'They're firing!' Lucy got back on the air. 'Returning fire! Keep all traffic away from Wrightsville Beach area!'

'Roger! Do you request further assistance?'

'Dispatch land emergency crews, Wrightsville Beach! Expect casualty situation!'

As the Schweizer flew directly under us, I saw muzzle flashes and the tip of a barrel barely protruding from the copilot's window. I felt more quick jolts.

'I think they hit the skids,' Lucy almost screamed, and she was trying to position her pistol out her open door and fly at the same time, her shooting hand bandaged.

I instantly dug inside my pocketbook, dismayed to realize my.38 was still inside my briefcase, which remained safe inside the baggage compartment. Then Lucy handed me her pistol and reached behind her head for the AR-15 assault rifle. The Schweizer swooped around, to pursue us inland, knowing we were cornered because we would not risk the safety of people on the ground.

'We've got to go back over the water!' Lucy said. 'Can't shoot at them here. Kick your door open. Get it off the hinges and dump it!'

I somehow managed, the door ripping away as rushing air blasted me and the ground suddenly seemed closer. Lucy made another turn, and the Schweizer turned, too, as the needle on the fuel gauge slipped lower. This went on for what seemed forever, the Schweizer chasing us out to sea, and our trying to return to land so we could get down. It could not shoot up without hitting the rotor blades.