Free Hard Ground by Joseph Heywood Page A

the damn thing was a living creature, a favored pet, or something. Rose found it creepy and looked away.
    â€œGot your parachute?” Haliday mumbled over his shoulder.
    â€œNo,” Rose said. “Why?”
    â€œFunnin’ ya, Rosey,” Haliday said and handed him a webbed harness of some kind. “You don’t need no damn chute with Buck Rogers and Airzilla, son. I always land what I take off. Go ahead and put on your harness and climb in first. You’ll be right behind me. You get the big windows, which we’ll leave open for the duration.”
    â€œWhat’s the harness for?” Rose asked.
    â€œEgress infrastructure,” the pilot said, pushing him up. “Haul your butt up there, Rose, and remember, in the sad and improbable unlikelihood we have to get out fast, your port window pops out. Just grab the red strap on top, kick the red mark at the bottom, and out she’ll pop, no sweat.”
    They strapped into their seats, and Haliday started the engine and immediately taxied out of the hangar. “DNR Air One, VFR. Runway, tower?”
    â€œRunway Three Six, DNR One, wind three three zero at six knots, clear to runway.”
    Haliday raced the plane across the tarmac, and Elliot Rose felt like everything was happening too quickly.
    As they neared the runway, Haliday radioed the tower, “DNR Air One approaching runway three six.”
    â€œYou are cleared for takeoff, DNR Air One. Give ’em hell out there tonight.”
    â€œDamn betcha and roger that, tower,” Haliday said, then turned onto the runway, lowered the flaps, and slammed the throttle forward.
    The power of the little plane’s single engine caught Rose by surprise. The plane rolled a short distance and jumped sharply off the runway. Haliday said, “Flaps up, gear up,” and banked hard in a climbing turn as he zinged past the tower, saluting as he passed. “Off we go into the wild blue yonder,” he added over intercom. “Man, I love this shit! Let’s rock and roll, Rosey!”
    Climbing steadily northward, they leveled off at four thousand feet. The sun was sinking in the west. “Two One Oh One, DNR Air One is airborne, northbound. All you girls ready down there?”
    â€œAir One, we’re on stations, DNR Two One Zero One.”
    Haliday keyed the intercom. “Hey, nav, you got all the call signs?”
    No response. “Hey, Rosey, tonight you’re my nav, copy?”
    â€œUh, roger, copy,” Rose said. Nav?
    Haliday laughed out loud, almost gleefully. “Roger? Attaboy, Rosey. Good on ya. Now, let’s us go kick some badasses.”
    They spent two hours over Marquette County and saw nothing suspicious. Rose was amazed by the view, but more by Haliday, who talked patrol trucks down lanes and trails only he seemed to see. It was like he had another dimension of vision from above and the omniscience of God.
    Moving south, Haliday radioed Sergeant Brown. “Two One Oh One, we’re moving into Delta County. Marquette sure was ugly quiet. Must have us an unprecedented outbreak of lawful behavior.”
    â€œRoger, Air One.”
    â€œI don’t see anything quickly here, we’re going to nose on down toward the Garden, copy?”
    â€œSounds like a plan, Air One.”
    â€œWho we got in the Garden, nav?”
    â€œPedretti and Vairo, Davey and Carter.”
    Haliday chuckled. “Ass-kickers one and all. This should be a hoot. Where they at now?”
    â€œPedretti and Vairo are supposed to be by Stable Creek, and Davey and Carter are somewhere up on the grade.”
    â€œOkay, switch to our tac freq and tell them to put one vehicle at Hiram Point Trail and the other on County Road 436 below the double ninety-degree turn with County Road 435. No need for them to call in position.”
    Rose switched to the tactical radio frequency and gave the two teams their orders. It wasn’t easy, and for some reason he