"Stand by, " Macovich transmitted to Andy. "It's the tower, " Macovich told Cat over the intercom because he didn't want to make the same mistake of broadcasting what he was saying in private.

"Let me talk to 'em, " Cat said as he missed his approach. "I need to practice the radio. "

"Not now, " Macovich said through his mike. "You're gonna have to do a flyover 'cause you was way too high for that approach, and I got a feeling the tower's gotten a complaint about the way you're flying, so the best thing is let me deal with them and you just take your headset off for a minute, 'cause it ain't gonna be pleasant, whatever the tower's got on its mind, I can tell you that! Don't get so damn close to the fence! Pull it up to eight hundred feet and just fly the damn helicopter while I deal with this!"

Cat took off his headset and squinted through his Oakley sunglasses, trying to make out the very dark shape of trees looming ahead.

"Thirty-Sierra-Papa, " Macovich transmitted to Andy. "I'm busy right now. "

"Roger. I'm well aware of that, " Andy's voice came back, and his tone boded that he knew exactly what Macovich was doing. "Your student is in violation, " Andy used aviation vernacular.

"What you mean?" Macovich was getting increasingly alarmed and pulled up on the collective to clear the trees, a reflex he scarcely noticed anymore because he had to fight for the controls routinely when giving this NASCAR dumbshit a lesson.

"Just inform your student that the tower needs you to return to the ground ASAP, " Andy ordered Macovich.

"Roger, " Macovich reluctantly replied, and he tapped Cat's headset, indicating for him to put it back on. "We gotta problem, " Macovich told Cat. "It's my ship. Don't make me tell you again to get your hands and feet off the controls! We got us a big mess with the FAA and I'm gonna have to deal with it so you don't get in any trouble and we don't end up grounded. "

"Shit!" Cat exclaimed. "The race! There better not be any fucking problem! The world-famous driver I work for ain't gonna put up with no problem, and he's good friends with the gov'ner and the president of the United States and will get your ass fired!"

"Don't you worry, " Macovich said, speeding back to the Richmond airport. "I'll handle it. "

The only thing that got handled was Cat, who within the hour was in the city lockup, crowded inside a dark cell full of inmates who kept telling each other to shut up and continued to go on and on about some puppy that had gotten flattened in a hit-and-run. Andy called Hammer the minute he got home. He informed her of everything that was going on, including the reassuring news that Popeye might be alive and would be rescued at the Winston Series race.

"That rotten snake, " she said of Macovich. "He can just turn in his gun and badge when he gets to headquarters. You call him and tell him to report to my office at eight sharp. "

"I respectfully disagree, " Andy said. "Smoke and the other road dogs don't know Cat's identity has been revealed and he's now in jail. "

"And he's also missing in action, as far as they're concerned, " Hammer reminded him. "Don't you think they're going to be a bit suspicious when he doesn't show up to fly them to the race?"

"I think I've got a way around that. "

"Let's hope so. "

"I'll fly the governor in a four-oh-seven and make sure he, Moses Custer, and whoever else, get safely in their box, " Andy laid out his plan. "And we'll have at least twenty troopers and EPU in plain clothes strategically stationed. Macovich needs to fly Smoke and his road dogs as expected. Don't worry, I'll get it all arranged. "

"Balony, Andy!" Hammer wasn't convinced. "There will probably be a hundred and fifty thousand fans at that damn race. Twenty troopers can't begin to protect the governor and his guests and manage such a crowd if something bad goes down. The first shot fired and there will be a riot and people will get crushed in the stampede. Cars will run off the track and crash. It will be a terrible disaster, and I just don't think we're equipped to control it.

"And what if Tangier Island decides to be a problem, too? I don't think anything will dissuade them of the ridiculous notion that NASCAR plans to take over their island, and a perfect time to launch some sort of hostile move on their part would be during the race, " she continued to paint negative scenarios. "We ought to have troopers posted on the island, too. Frankly, I wish you could write something in an essay that would convince those people to behave and settle down, but I doubt anyone on Tangier even has a computer. "

"I've received no communications from anybody on the island, " Andy informed her. "So you're probably right. No one there is reading me. But based on all the satellite dishes I noticed, they certainly watch TV. So why not create a diversion on the island? I can plant something in my next essay that will end up being broadcast in the news before the race. "

He thought of Fonny Boy and the rusting piece of iron, and decided that nothing captured an Islander's attention more than items of value that they feared outsiders might try to take from them. Andy began to write a carefully worded e-mail that instructed his anonymous pirate friend to leave his or her computer logged on to Trooper Truth and watch for the next essay. In addition, the anonymous pirate was to inform Smoke that Cat was busy practicing autorotations and getting his check ride and would meet them at Tangier Island after the race so he had time to do a high recon of the area and set up their new headquarters.

"Tell Smoke and the others that Cat got word of a huge stash of treasure, and his instructor was going to drop Cat off on the island early and would fly Smoke and the dogs to the race as planned, then whisk them to Tangier Island where Cat would already be out in a boat, securing the treasure before anybody else found it, " Andy e-mailed the anonymous pirate. "Assuming Cat doesn't have a computer or know how to use one, just say that the e-mail alerting them about all this came from the helicopter instructor, Trooper Macovich, who has decided to throw in his lot with you road dogs and be your pilot and get you guns and scuba gear, set up money laundering, and make runs to Canada and whatever else you need, in exchange for his being cut in on a modest share of the treasure. "

Possum was slightly confused and a little frightened when he got Trooper Truth's latest communication, but he would do as he was instructed and leave the computer logged on to the website and pass on the information to Smoke. But Possum did have one final question:

Dear Trooper Truth,

This is the last time I write you but I was wondering if you could take that picture of Popeye in her red coat off the front page of your web. See, if Smoke see that picture, it will be the end of Popeye 'cause he don't know anybody still looking for her except the lady supintenderent Popeye got stole from.

P. S. My name is Possum but I use to be Jeremiah Little before Smoke made me join his road dogs or else kill me, he said. Can you call my mama and tell her I'm o. k. and ain't in any trouble and find out if she still living with my daddy, 'cause if she is, I can't go back to the basement and won't have no place to go when I get free of Smoke and move out of the RV?

P. S. P. S. Don't forget your promise!.

Andy replied with an Instant Message assuring Possum that Popeye's photograph was being removed right that minute, and of course, Trooper Truth would call Possum's mama and keep all promises. Andy also wrote:

When you are about to leave the racetrack, be the first one to climb into the back of the big helicopter that Trooper Macovich will be flying. Then slide across the seat with Popeye and rush out the other door and run as fast as you can toward a camper that is flying a Virginia flag and has six traffic cones in front. The camper will be easily visible on the other side of the fence surrounding the helipad, and I will be sitting in a lawn chair in front, disguised as a drunk NASCAR fan. Please stay clear of the tail-rotor!