Seascape's Aground !: A Reluctant White Knight, #3

By T.W. Anderson

Seascape's Aground ! - A Reluctant White Knight novel - Volume 3
Reviewed By: Editorial Board, The Columbia Review of Books & Films            1/22/2015

 

"Seascape's Aground" is the third installment in "A Reluctant White Knight" – an action adventure series of novels from author T.W. Anderson. Building up on the first two novels, "Seascape Aground" starts off with the bang and only gets better.

The story opens with our hero, Tom Rowter, about to board a helicopter for another mission, but held back for a last goodbye kiss from his loving wife, Sunny. For those who trust the feminine sixth sense, this scene provides the reader with the required premonition: Something bad is going to happen. And it does.

As the story gets on the way, Tom answers a call to duty, and things get rapidly more complicated. There are good guys and bad guys (and good guys who turn out to be bad), conflict and violence, and difficult choices that bear risky consequences.

The action scenes are tense and believable, and so are the tender moments. Especially for readers who have experienced firsthand the pleasures and challenges of second chances, relationship wise, and of romance later in life, this volume provides a bonus in sharing a more intimate and authentic window into the trials and tribulations that test — and strengthen — the relationship between Tom and Sunny.

In summary, this third novel in the series provide an enjoyable combination of action, conflict, and suspense, spiced up with romance and family tensions, government corruption and drug cartels, plus a host of exotic locations that add excitement and interest. We look forward to the next installment in "A Reluctant White Knight" – a promising series from author T.W. Anderson.

 

"Conflict, violence, and difficult choices that bear risky consequences." Quoted by permission from The Columbia Review. 1/22/2015

The Editorial Board of The Columbia Review selects new books and films of interest, as well as paid submissions and sponsored reviews from authors, publishers, directors, agents and producers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: T.W. Anderson
• Release date: Mar 15, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215052907

T.W. Anderson

Terrance W Anderson, or “T.W.” as he prefers to be called, has over five decades of senior business management experience. When he can get away both he and his wife love to travel or idle around and fish the area’s surrounding lakes in their boat. T.W. has also been an avid pilot since youth and holds a number of advanced pilot ratings. T.W.’s writing was born out of a frustration with the lack, at the time, of Christian authors writing modern, relatable suspense and romance novels. It seemed like all the best selling books had language in them that not only offended him, but he was embarrassed that the person beside him glancing over his shoulder might also be offended by it. On one long business trip, while relaxing beside the inlet at Marina Del Rey he dug out his laptop and started typing out notes about his past aviation and life experiences. That led him to start adding a measure of “What if” to the writings. Before long he had a story line in mind and Tom Rowter came alive on the pages of the “A Reluctant White Knight” novel series. Being of retirement age himself, the author makes his books hero of a similar age thusly giving us an adventure and romance from a mature individual, and then couple’s point of view. Many readers, tired of reading about the limitless energy of some young stud and his vixen, will be able to relate to the aches, pains and limitations of this series' hero and heroine having a few years on them, yet being truly in love. T.W. tries to show his characters as true to real life as possible. His main characters may be courageous but they aren’t super heroes. They have their weaknesses and failures like we all do and they reflect his personal faith and Christian beliefs. The action and problems that come to life in the pages are right out of everyday events. And the romances are as complicated as life truly plays out. In story development he uses not only his own past experiences but the counsel of friends he’s developed in other fields of aviation, international business and real estate, journalism as well as various local, state and federal law enforcement organizations.

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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

All references to persons, places or events within this work are fictional and intended solely for the entertainment of the reader. Any similarity to any person, living or dead, any place or event is strictly coincidental and unintentional. References to any object name, brand name, and product or service name are NOT intended to imply any endorsement, acceptance, permission granted or involvement of the owners of those objects or names in the publication of this work. References used within this work are used solely for the entertainment of the reader and have no bearing in fact on those things or places named. It is not the intent of the author to either endorse or detract from any person, place, event or product herein named. No portion of this work may be reproduced in any form or fashion without the expressed written consent of the author.

I want to thank Joseph Anderson for his assistance in editing the book, and Dixie Anderson for her contribution in editing, critique and story development.

DEDICATION     

This book is lovingly dedicated to my wife, my sons, their wonderful wives and all my grandkids who gave me the inspiration for how different people interact, love and support one another. Only the best traits of my family were used in character development, with literary license and embellishment.

I must admit, the quirks I added!

T.W. Anderson, Author

COPYRIGHT PAGE

PUBLISHER’S EDITION AND LICENSE NOTES

This e-Book is the 3rd edition of the original work of the author and is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-Book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to publisher’s website and purchase your own copy.

We are confident that if you were the publisher or author of a book you would appreciate the same consideration. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

ALSO BY

T.W. ANDERSON

Thank you for taking the time to read this book. Although you’ll find it entertaining on its own, and I have worked to include enough about what has led up to the developments in this book, to fully enjoy this book series consider acquiring the other books in the series as well.

The full series of A Reluctant White Knight includes;

Volume 1 - Will It Be Sunny Tomorrow?

Volume 2 - Coyote Running

Volume 3 - Seascape Aground !

Includes - Legacy of the General – Part 1

Volume 4 - Legacy of the General – Part 2

Volume 5 – Splash Landing

Volume 6 – Not On My Ranch !

Volume 7 – Hawaiian Interception

Chapter 1

As I walked toward the big black helicopter, I heard my name echoing through the vast expanse of the huge hangar. 

TOM, TOM! I recognized my wife’s voice immediately and spun around to see her almost sprinting across the hangar floor, lugging a bag of some sort. 

What are you doing, Sunny? I said as I met her part way across the hangar floor. 

I just..., well you haven’t had anything to eat since breakfast.  And I’ll bet Rusty hasn’t taken time to eat or feed Bill, either.  You guys are probably going to be gone until late and I wanted... Oh, dammit Tom, I just couldn’t say goodbye like that.  Here, she said as she thrust the soft sided food cooler into my arms.  Then she managed to totally crush whatever might have been in the cooler by grabbing my neck, pulling me close to her and kissing me hard on the lips.  Her kiss was long and passionate.  And I, of course, reciprocated. 

Careful sweetheart or I’ll tell the sheriff I quit, I choked out. 

No you don’t, Tom.  You take care of both of our boys and you come back to me safe, you hear? she said, gaining her composure and putting her hands on her hips. 

I just very quietly said Yes, ma’am, gave her a peck on the lips, turned and sprinted to the waiting helicopter and its crew.

As I fastened my seatbelt and pulled the checklist out of its cockpit side pocket, I stole a glance out the windshield of the aircraft and saw my wife move her hands from her hips and cross her arms tight across her chest as if willing the powers above that I come back to her safe.  I have to admit, I said a prayer that we did too.

As our pilot, Sheriff Roust, increased the power on the twin turbine engines and the aircraft slowly rose from the hangar apron I could see from my place in the co-pilot's seat that Sunny's dad, Dusty, had joined her in the hangar to see us off.  Beside the rancher stood the Judge I had just been sworn to protect and serve.  I could see Sunny turn to her dad and bury her head in his chest.  I knew that what I was doing, what we were doing, was making my wife cry once again.  But as she had asked, this time I was risking my life for a worthwhile cause.

Chapter 2

Sunny sobbed quietly with her face buried in her father’s chest.  No one around would have heard her sobs anyway from the thunderous noise the big helicopter made.  Dusty got a cold chill down his spine.  It was eerie to watch an all-black helicopter rise slowly from the gray concrete ramp to the pitch black sky.  Just before it disappeared into the dark its pilot turned on first its red and green navigation position lights and then the craft’s bright strobe lights.

He watched the craft slowly turn to the southeast as it continued its hovering ascent and Dusty realized the shiver he felt was for the men on board that craft.  His daughter, now quietly soaking his shirt with her tears had a large part of her life riding on how safe that flight went tonight.  Her youngest son, the youngest son of her husband, and her husband, the man that had saved her life and then brought her spirit to life.

Dusty’s thoughts turned to Sunny.  He found his daughter’s transformation remarkable.  When her first husband was killed, she didn’t regret it, he was abusive and died while trying to kill her.  As far as the whole county was concerned, he got what he deserved.  Dusty made sure of that.  But his daughter withdrew and was cold for a long time after that.  She could be downright mean if crossed.  Not to him.  She had always been loving and respectful to her dad.  But to others she could be cold and brutal. 

Steve, her second husband had cleansed her of that coldness without even trying to.  He hadn’t set out to impress or win her.  He was just her flight instructor and the two just naturally, after time, fell deeply in love.  It was the type of love that Dusty had wished for his daughter all along.  And it made his heart sing to see how it made his daughter glow. 

When word came that Steve died during the first Gulf War, Sunny was shattered.  She fell apart.  It was as if she had died too.  She was practically a zombie.  It took years of weekly therapy sessions for her to finally come out of it.  Actually, the therapy just re-confirmed the inner strength she had.  She learned to revel in the good times that she and Steve had enjoyed during their short marriage.  And to leave it at that.  She was okay.  But she wasn’t really living.

Then this Tom guy came along.  Dusty could see from the moment he set foot on the ranch that Tom wasn’t looking for anything they had, he was escaping something within himself and figured it was somewhere down the road.  That’s why Dusty felt comfortable hiring Tom to keep his daughter safe.  Tom had already saved his daughter’s life once, when they were perfect strangers.  Dusty just knew that Tom could be trusted.

But then somehow it happened.  In less than a week Sunny and Tom had bonded.  They had knit a love that was stronger than Sunny had shown for either her first husband Joe, the conman, or Steve, her lost warrior.  And Dusty could tell Tom was the real thing. 

Now Tom was on board that helicopter called into duty as a deputy sheriff and his daughter was crying her eyes out on his chest.  How can something as good as the love Dusty had witnessed between Sunny and Tom, be so cruel?

Chapter 3

Sunny composed herself and pulled her face out of her daddy’s shirt just as the big black helicopter pivoted in its turn and she quickly waved goodbye to her ‘boys’.  Then she buried her head in her daddy’s chest again and continued to sob.

Why had she been so cruel to Tom?  Why couldn’t she accept that he was a strong willed man with a deep sense of honor?  She knew in her heart that Tom didn’t carelessly try to hurt her.  He didn’t do the things he did because it made him feel macho.  He did it because that was who Thomas Rowter was.  It was that same courageous streak in him that had probably, no, definitely saved her life not once, but a couple of times in the short time they knew each other. 

She had made him promise that he wouldn’t work for the general anymore and that if he ever did risk his life again, it would be for something or someone worthwhile.  Now he was doing just that.

The man who had killed the U.S.  Marshals and escaped had sworn he was going to kill Federal Judge Patricia Charing.  The same Pat Charing that was now standing here beside her dad, holding onto his arm tight.  It was obvious to the whole family that Patty is the object of her daddy’s affection, no matter how hard he’s tried to keep it a secret.

And Tom was riding in that helicopter with her youngest son, Rusty.  He might be the county sheriff, but he was still her little boy.  And, she thought, Tom’s little boy was there in harm’s way with him.  Bill, Tom’s youngest son was no little boy.  He was a full grown man that looked more like a linebacker than a deputy sheriff.  But no matter how old he gets, or what he does with his life, she’ll always consider him Tom’s youngest.  Actually, he was Tom and her youngest, since she had grown to love Tom’s family as much as her own.

Three very important people were leaving her on that cold ramp and she prayed hard, in between sobs, that God would send a legion of angels to protect them.

Chapter 4

Federal Judge Patricia Charing was chilled to the bone and it wasn’t because of the weather.  She stood beside her friend, rancher Darin Galin Dusty Roapes and his daughter Sunny as they watched the departure of the ranch helicopter that had been pressed into the search for a man who had allegedly just killed two experienced, armed U.S.  Marshals.  And that escapee, Edmondo Chalasar, had sworn he would kill her.

The judge wasn’t someone to be threatened.  She had a stubbornness that sometimes betrayed her English ancestry.  And growing up in the Colorado Rockies had taught her how to stand up to adversity whether it was wild animal attacks or the forest fire that once took everything she owned while she took refuge in a cave.  She wasn’t much taller than the rancher’s petite daughter, but she came from hearty English stock and although big boned, she was well built and trim for her size.  She kept her dishwater blonde hair short so that her good looks wouldn’t be mistaken as a weak point.  She could hold her own in a debate, an argument and quite probably in a fight.

As a judge she was tough, but fair.  She had been threatened in the past.  Actually, there had been two attempts on her life.  But she knew for a fact that there were just as many convicts in prison and out on parole who would thank her for straightening their lives out, and giving them a fair deal, as there were the hard cases that had not taken well to any sort of control or punishment. 

But this guy, this Chalasar, was a cold hearted killer who for some reason the Mexican government couldn’t find enough evidence to convict.  So, they let him cross the border to Texas to get rid of the problem.  And now he had brought his reign of drugs, intimidation and murder to west Texas.

Why had he sworn to kill her?  Simply because she presided over his federal arraignment.  She had seen him only that once, in her courtroom, and she simply found there was sufficient evidence for him to be held for trial.  And any judge would have come to the same judgment.  There was a truckload of evidence.  Literally a truckload of bodies, guns and drugs with his fingerprints all over them!  And it wasn’t like he’d never been in court before.  He’d spent time in prison before.  Maybe it was that. 

That was it, she thought.  He was coming up on his third strike.  If she was assigned the case, and if he was found guilty by a jury of his peers, she would have no choice but to sentence him to life without the possibility of parole.

But every federal judge would have to do the same thing.  Did he intend to kill all the federal judges?  It was quite possible, given how ruthless he had been in the last 12 hours.

The judge shivered at the thought of those brave boys and other law officers coming up against an animal like that and she moved closer to her friend, Dusty, and wrapped her arms around his strong left arm. 

His right arm was wrapped around his daughter, a wonderful girl that had been subjected to her own complications in life.  Right then she was sobbing.  Pat didn’t judge her though.  Dusty had told Pat all about Sunny’s past and the judge really thought the girl was remarkable.  What she had been through would have crushed a weaker woman.  Pat knew the three men in that helicopter were a very important part of her life.  And the girl had heard the full briefing on how dangerous the escaped prisoner was. 

As the helicopter disappeared into the gloom of the night, Pat tugged on Dusty’s arm and when he looked at her she cocked her head toward the hacienda.  Dusty got the message and started to guide his distraught daughter in that direction. 

Once safely in the hacienda, Pat went to the kitchen and put a pot of coffee on.  Dusty guided his daughter to the couch in the living room and then turned his attention to stoking the fireplace.  By the time Dusty had the fireplace roaring Pat entered the living room with big mugs of steaming coffee and a tray full of cookies and grapes.  She realized it was an odd offering for the night vigil ahead, but being her first visit to the ranch, it was all she could find without spending the night looking through cupboards.  And she wanted to get back to Dusty’s side where she felt safe.

Chapter 5

The sheriff spoke into the intercom, Tom, is my takeoff checklist complete?

I forced myself to pull my eyes from my view of my wife crying on her dad's chest and checked off the last items on the list then replied to our pilot, Sheriff, takeoff checklist complete, transitioning to cruise checklist.

Okay.  Bill?  Advise dispatch that Brewster Air 2 is airborne and enroute to our search area south of the city of Alpine, the sheriff then commanded over the intercom to my son, Deputy Rowter, in the back of the helicopter where he was handling the sophisticated search and communications equipment that had been hastily installed in the ranch's helicopter. 

I could overhear on the intercom Bill's immediate communications with the 911 dispatcher at the county communications center in Alpine, the county seat for Brewster County, Texas.  The dispatcher reported that Brewster Air 1 was now heading south of Marfa on highway 67 and asked what the sheriff's intentions were. 

Brewster Air 2 will follow highway 118 south from Alpine to Butte-Terlingua.  Are we still looking for a white Ford SUV with one male only? the deputy radioed to dispatch. 

That is affirmative, Brewster Air 2.  No other reported stolen vehicles in the area yet, the dispatcher added.

Boss, did you get all that? the deputy said over the intercom to the sheriff. 

Got it Bill, heading for Alpine now.  ETA is seven minutes.  Tom, I'm only at five hundred feet over the ground and we are moving as fast as this big tank will go.  Boy, I miss the maneuverability of Air 1.  This thing is a nice ride but it flies like the corporate ship it was designed to be, not the patrol platform our department’s helo is.  We should have an antenna farm to watch out for as we approach the west city limit of Alpine.  Keep scanning for it, the sheriff smoothly commanded us. 

Got it, Boss, I spoke into the headset microphone.  Obstruction is visual at your eleven o'clock and no factor, I briefed the pilot.

We sped along at the big helicopters top speed until our pilot identified the intersections of the two highways he was looking for.  He then smoothly transitioned the helo into a hover just to one side of that intersection as he inquired of our onboard equipment operator, You got that gear ready to go, Bill?

It's up, stabilized and recording, Boss.  My camera is approximately a quarter mile ahead at this altitude.  You can plan on about eighty knots as your best speed according to the computer.  I've identified three persons in that southbound sedan you are approaching now, so heat signature reading is working fine, the deputy briefed us.

Sheriff, your next obstruction is five miles south on the east side of the road and it is two hundred feet taller than your altitude.  I'm watching for it, I briefed the pilot as I checked the air navigation chart against the county road map and scanned the horizon.

Our evening went slowly with a lot of concentration a short distance ahead of us.  Luckily the weather held and other than the eerie appearance of the moisture vapor twirling in the rotor air currents and reflecting the aircrafts strobe lights as it circulated under the helicopter’s big rotor blades, our visibility was good.  I have to admit I was a little airsick and didn’t take any of the food when Bill passed the sandwiches forward.  It occurred to me that it had been more than forty years since I was a patrol pilot.  And we didn't patrol at night.

Chapter 6

Joe, we’ve got another report in.  You aren’t going to like this the state trooper logging radio traffic called out to Joe Roust, District Attorney for Brewster County.  Joe wasn’t usually involved in the local law enforcement tactical operations.  But there was a personal connection this night.  Not only had Joe known and respected both of the U.S.  Marshals that were brutally killed, but the alleged assailant had been arraigned and remanded to custody by a federal judge that was becoming pretty important to Joe’s own family.

Oh my God.  Doesn’t this guy have an ounce of mercy?  I’ll bet they didn’t even put up a struggle.  Look at how old the victims were.  Better get dispatch to inform the sheriff.  I’m going to call the Border Patrol on both sides of the border and alert them.  This killer is heading for the Mexican border and isn’t going to let anything stop him, the District Attorney commented to the state trooper. 

The trooper immediately passed the briefing to the radio operator there in the dimly lit 911 Emergency Dispatch Communications Center in the basement of the Brewster County Sheriff’s building.

Before Joe called the Border Patrol, though, he made a personal call.

Charlie?  This is Joe.  What did Rusty tell you about what is going on? Joe inquired of the man on the other end of his cell phone call. 

He said the guy was loco and not to take any chances with him if he shows up gunning for the Judge, Charlie responded and Joe could hear the man put an exclamation point on his response by spitting his tobacco chew.

Okay.  It appears the bad guy is not going to make good on his threat to kill the judge tonight.  He’s more interested in killing whoever gets in his way of making it across the border.  But lock down the ranch anyway and put the emergency security response plan into action, Joe briefed the ranch foreman. 

Should I brief Dusty? the cowhand asked.

No, don’t tell Dusty.  Just do it, Charlie.  I’ll explain it to Dusty when I call him with an update on the manhunt in about an hour.  Now just get it done.  And Charlie, call me directly if anything happens.  I’ll get the national guard out there if I have to, the district attorney insisted and then closed his cell phone.

Joe thought to himself, there is no way that animal is going to head back north yet tonight.  But if he makes it across the border he’ll be back, and none of us will know when he’ll try to strike.  It was imperative that he be brought in, or brought down, that night.

Chapter 7

Air 2, dispatch, the radio crackled. 

Air 2, go, Bill called out. 

Air 2, we have a report of a home invasion, shots fired, two dead, one critical but the survivor identified the attacker as your man, Chalasar.  Vehicle you are now searching for is a black four wheel drive Chevrolet standard cab pickup.  Still only one bad guy, sheriff, the dispatcher radioed. 

Did you get a direction of travel? Bill called out to the dispatcher.

Negative, survivor heard tires squealing on pavement and acceleration at a high rate of speed.  Location is south of Marathon thirty two miles on highway 385.  The deputy on scene says to tell you that he's willing to bet you a steak dinner the guy's heading south to the border and intends to use the four wheel drive to get through the Big Bend National Park to cross the border there, the dispatcher concluded.

The sheriff cranked on the helicopter's throttle control and climbed just a little as he tilted the helo forward to enter high speed cruise again. 

Tom, take the controls.  I've got the throttle and collective locked for cruise power.  Keep her at this altitude and this heading.  And give me your maps, the sheriff ordered over the intercom.  I did as I was told and nervously handled the flight controls.  Having never flown the helicopter before, I didn't have a clue what I was doing.  I found myself mad for not at least reading up on how the darn things flew since I knew I was going to have to get checked out sometime in the future. 

I've got the aircraft, Tom, after what seemed like an eternity the sheriff finally called over the intercom and I immediately released the controls.  The sheriff swung the craft on a more southerly heading and kept the big black ship going as fast as it would go. 

Bill, you keeping up with me back there? he called out to our observer. 

You are kidding, right? the deputy could only comment. 

Okay then, you two guys forget the fancy gear and watch out those windows for any vehicle on that highway to your left.  If you see one, I'll slow down so we can identify it but I don't want to waste time getting to the park, the sheriff said with anxious excitement evident in his voice.

As we covered the distance to the park, we came up on only four vehicles on the highway and three we could disregard because of the model of vehicle.  The fourth wasn't the right brand or size truck.  Suddenly the sheriff transitioned the helicopter from its fastest cruise speed to a hover in place.  It wasn't fun to ride out for those of us who weren't expecting it.  I just concentrated my vision on the horizon so that I wouldn't get even more airsick. 

Bill, I'm hovering in place.  Get your gear stabilized and advise me when you are ready.  Tom, don't be alarmed, I'm going to turn off all the lights.  Bill, hand me my night vision goggles, the sheriff ordered in rapid succession.  I was relieved when I observed the sheriff engage the fancy autopilot our aircraft was equipped with.  I don't know how it works, but it kept us hovering right where the sheriff had engaged it.  It was still a little disconcerting to watch the sheriff release his hands and feet from all the controls while he put the NVG on and adjusted them. 

The cockpit was now totally dark.  What little light we had was from the glow of Bill's equipment in the passenger cabin behind me.  Outside, to me, it looked totally black because we were facing an unpopulated area near the national park and the border and the solid clouds above us blocked what little moonlight might have been available to us.  The sheriff pushed the button on his control stick to disengage the autopilot and I could feel us seesaw a little as our pilot got used to flying the helo by hand while looking through the goggles that would let him see in this pitch black hole we were flying in.  I wasn't feeling well at all but I kept my mouth shut and didn't say a word.

Sheriff, turn ten degrees left and see if you can see a vehicle moving about five miles down the park parameter road.  He's running most of the time with his lights off.  But he turns them on a short while when he evidently loses sight of the road, Bill announced. 

Okay.  I've got something but I can't make a definite identification through all the trees.  I'm going south of his location and will let him run toward us, the sheriff said as he swung the ship to our right and pushed the nose over to gain speed. 

Moments later the sheriff spoke to Bill over the intercom, Bill, you have the connection to dispatch so relay this for me, and the sheriff gave Bill precise orders of what he wanted.  I heard Bill call the dispatcher.

Dispatch, Air 2 has sighted subject vehicle driving south of 385 on Park Route 12.  Vehicle is approximately five miles north of the Mexican border.  Air 2 is moving to intercept from the south.  Dispatch all available units from the road north.  Send in Air 1 from the west.  Alert ICE and our Mexican friends of our activity in this area, the deputy rapidly relayed to the dispatcher.  I was so proud of him when I heard him repeat the sheriff's orders almost word for word. 

My internal gyros were not doing well.  I couldn't see a thing in front of us or out the side windows and yet I knew we were leaning forward and the sound of the air rushing past my side window told me we were probably going at a pretty good rate of speed.  Every once in a while the sheriff would make a slight course change and my body would tell me we were turning but I couldn't tell when we stopped turning.  For all I knew, we could be in another state or flying in circles.  I was getting dizzy and I had to find a way to snap my mind out of it. 

I finally noticed that the flight instruments had a slight phosphorescent glow in the dark even without lights on them.  As I stared at the flight instruments my mind finally clicked back to all the flight training I had taken over my life.  Believe the instruments, Tom.  Believe the instruments.

Sheriff, I read your altitude as two hundred feet above the ground and the ship is heading one-niner-five degrees magnetic, slowing airspeed.  Now zero airspeed, in hover, I called out to the pilot. 

Thanks, Tom.  Everyone standby, he said.

Finally the sheriff announced, Bill, you got him?

Yes I do, it looks like our pickup.  I can positively identify the make and body style and only one person in it.  He's coming right at you, about five miles out and closing at about thirty miles an hour, the deputy responded. 

Good Bill, you'll probably lose him as I descend but he has to slow down for this hair pin turn in the road that should be right out Tom's window.  Tom?  Do you see where my hand is pointing on the instrument panel? the pilot said. 

Yes, the gear switch, correct? I responded. 

Yes, to its right are two toggle switches that control the landing lights.  If they are on they’ll automatically turn on the lights when we lower the landing gear.  Turn them off.  Confirm off, Tom, the sheriff commanded. 

I will turn the switches to the off position, Boss, I immediately responded. 

Good.  Then put the landing gear down and cover those darn warning lights with your hand so it doesn't blind me, the sheriff then ordered without taking his sight off of the vision of the truck he had within his night vision goggles.  I did as I was told, verified the gear was down and put a sticky note over the lights so that they could hardly be seen.  Gear down, Boss, was my next response. 

Stand by for landing, guys, the sheriff said.

Chapter 8

I felt like the bottom fell out of an elevator.  In a matter of moments, I could tell the landing gear was on the ground and the sheriff immediately cut the engines and turned all the switches off.

As the rotor blades made their swishing sound of slowing to a stop everything became quiet.  You still got power back there, Bill? the sheriff asked his observer. 

I do, sheriff, but our equipment is useless with all the brush that surrounds the aircraft.  I'm shutting down, the deputy responded and I heard the pilot's and cabin doors open.  I followed their lead and unstrapped my safety belt and opened my door.  With everything quiet and having time to adjust my eyes I started picking out details of what surrounded us.

The sheriff had landed the helicopter so that it sat sideways across the gravel road.  The road only extended a short distance to the southwest, my left, until it disappeared in what I figured was a tight turn to the right.  It was surrounded on both sides by thick, dense brush ranging from ankle high scrub brush to mesquite trees.  How the sheriff got the helo down without hitting the rotor blades into those trees I would never know.  But it also looked like anyone trying to run from the road into the brush wasn't going to get very far, or at least not very quickly or quietly.