Free Flight 12 to Rome: A Nick Bracco Novella by Gary Ponzo Page A

just there to keep us pacified so we don’t take action.” Weston grabbed one of the poles holding up the fence. “Not that we could do anything about it.”
    The Gulfstream was now taxiing to the far end of the runway, needing to takeoff into the prevailing wind just the way the 767 had needed it to land.
    Among the crowd, Nick caught the eye of one of the pilots from the Flight 12 and waved him over.
    “Can you fly that 767 to Rome from here?” Nick asked.
    The pilot looked confused. “Um, I suppose. Depending on where we are, of course.”
    “You know where we are?” Jess asked Nick.
    Nick shook his head. “Not a clue.”
    “Then why are you asking questions like that? You’re going to get people’s hopes up for no reason.”
    The Gulfstream ramped up its engines and began heading down the tarmac. Slowly at first, then speeding up as it reached the tail end of the runway, the pilot pulling up the nose just thirty yards before they reached the camouflaged 767.
    Nick looked down at Jess and her idle hands. “How come you stopped writing?”
    She wrinkled her nose at him. “What?”
    “It seems like you’ve given up,” Nick said. “That’s not like you.”
    Jess just watched the Gulfstream taking off as if her favorite pet was abandoning her.
    Nick watched the jet as well, but he kept his attention on a different section of the horizon.
    “What are you looking at?” Jess asked.
    Nick spotted something and held out his hand. “Can I please have my pen back?”
    Jess seemed to hesitate, looking down at the pen with curiosity. “Why?”
    Nick finally turned to look at her. “I keep hearing that I’m at a loss without my gadgets or my partner,” he said, taking the pen from her hand and pulling up on the barrel until it telescoped up six inches. He pressed the lever on the side of the pen and spoke into the microphone embedded into the casing.
    “Are you there, partner?” he asked.
    “I’m here,” Matt McColm said. “We’re three miles out right now.”
    Nick squinted into the sky. “I see you.”
    “Anyone need medical attention?”
    “We’re okay.”
    When Nick was spotted talking into a pen, the crowd seemed to sense the line of communication and they all followed Nick’s gaze into the morning sky.
    “I see a plane!” a young man shouted.
    Screams of joy and excitement filled the island.
    The fence began to pulsate from passengers pushing and pulling with excitement. Out of the northwest came a low-flying 747 banking around the island with the Department of Justice logo attached to the side.
    “You see the Gulfstream taking off?” Nick asked his partner.
    “I see it.”
    “Why don’t you stay with him and send someone else to come get us?”
    “No need,” Matt said. “I’ve brought some friends along to help with an escort.”
    Just then a loud rumble exploded overhead as two F-16 fighter jets blasted past the island, causing the passengers to duck in surprise. The F-16s were heading in the exact direction the Gulfstream was headed. It took only a few seconds before the crowd began to chant, “USA, USA . . .”
    “Okay,” Nick said. “I’ll see you in a minute.” He pushed the telescoped receiver down into the barrel of the pen, then handed it to Jess, who still wore a look of shock on her face.
    “You gave this to me on purpose,” Jess said, marveling at the device she held in her hand. “Then you baited Bennett into using me as an interviewer, knowing he wouldn’t take the pen away from me.”
    “Big ego like his, that’s hard to resist.”
    “And you knew he was a D.B. Cooper fan, so you suspected him all along.”
    “No, that’s not true. I had no idea who might be looking for the device. Our source was hardly credible. I took the flight just on a whim.”
    Jess cocked her head. “Agent Bracco, you brought a radio device with a GPS locator and had your partner follow you in a DOJ plane all on a whim?”
    Nick shrugged. “Some whims are more valuable than