Read Online A Northern Thunder by Andy Harp - Free Book Online Page B

safe place and tell no one you have it.” Will handed her another envelope—a standard, white, letter-sized envelope. As she took it, she felt an object, small and rectangular, inside. “It may amount to nothing, but just keep it safe. My future may depend on that envelope.”
    Will gazed at her briefly and took in how attractive she was. For several years, the lawyers of that judicial circuit had talked about her beauty, but Will had always been too busy to pay much attention. She had sensed that, and his lack of interest only intrigued her more.
    At that moment, they heard a low jet hum from above. Will pushed the window button down in the Mercedes, and almost instantly, the runway lights came on.
    “How did that happen?” Clark wondered aloud.
    “The field has a special system. When the pilot keys the mike to a certain frequency, it switches the lights on for a while. It’s fairly common in rural fields without active towers.”
    Even with the lights on, she and Will could barely make out a long, sleek jet as it turned for its final approach and landing. Will was surprised at how dark the aircraft looked, as if it had less navigation lighting than most normal planes he had seen. He heard the wheels screech as the plane touched down, but was still amazed at the quiet of the two-engine jet.
    Will reached over and turned the Mercedes ignition, but he didn’t turn on the lights. A long, black jet taxied up to the hangar entrance and stopped. The jet engines continued to hum as Will recognized the shape of a new unmarked Gulf Stream V jet.
    The spy business must have its perks , Will thought, watching as the aircraft door opened, revealing a figure standing in the doorway. As the aircraft stairs moved to make contact with the ground, it became clear from the man’s shape that it was Will’s newfound friend, Mr. Scott.
    “Clark, be careful.” Clark shuddered at the way Will said his good-bye. He flipped a switch overhead so that the interior of the car stayed dark. He leaned over, kissed her, and quickly opened the door.
    Clark was beginning to wonder if she needed this much excitement. She got out of the car, came around the back, and got in behind the steering wheel.
    Scott noticed the figure of someone on the other side of the hangar, but could only detect movement in the darkness. As Scott stared in the general direction of the car, Will quickly walked across the tarmac and hopped up the stairs of the jet.
    “Welcome to the spy business, Colonel.” Scott sounded a bit obnoxious.
    Will passed through the small curved door into the jet, carrying a small bag over one shoulder. Dressed in a starched white shirt, neatly creased khaki slacks, black loafers, and a blue sport coat, he looked like a successful businessman leaving on his annual vacation.
    A young, slender, attractive woman with short blond hair stepped to the side as Will adjusted to the aircraft’s bright interior light and looked around the jet cabin. To his left, the cockpit door was open and in the left pilot’s seat was a surprisingly youthful man, seemingly just out of college, whose attention was focused on a panel switch he flipped several times. As a pilot himself, Will noticed the jet’s green-blue instrument panels, recognizing they were modern and electronic, not the old needle and metal gauges. A multicolored radar set dominated the center of the panel. The seat to the pilot’s right was empty.
    “Colonel, may I take your bag?” The woman, in a white shirt with black and gold-striped epaulet boards, took Will’s crumpled blue bag, which bore the well-worn imprint of the “Cordele Health Club.”
    Will turned to his right and noticed, on both sides of the center aisle, a mahogany-paneled kitchen with gold-plated sinks, faucets, and a small refrigerator door. At the end of this short space, he could see dark wood panels with only the opening of a small door. Apparently, one could close off the cockpit and kitchen from the remainder of