The Pale Man Rises

CHAPTER SEVENTY TWO

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Special Agent Colin Roberts and his two associate agents had to start early for Fort Tom Dillman because of the miserable weather. Though the snow and ice that alighted on the city of Sayerville was not as bad as that which fell on Belfast and the surrounding communities a mere 60 miles away it was still a terrible disruption to the city's routine.

They appropriated the only four-wheel drive vehicle available in the FBI motor pool and set out for the fort at five a.m. When they finally arrived at the Provost Marshal's Office a Major Shuler met them with some paperwork that would have to be filled out. It was a request from Colonel Streame who'd given these instructions once he'd learned of the FBI's renewed request for the use of an Army helicopter.

Once Roberts had completed the paperwork two Military Policemen were summoned and ordered to deliver the three federal agents and their equipment to the air wing where row upon row of helicopters stood like dragonflies wearing gowns of freshly fallen snow. Some seemed favored above others and were covered with tarpaulins and still others, the most favored all, were sheltered in hangars.

There were Huey UH-1s, Iroquois, AH-1 Cobras, and still other Huey and Bell copters. There were also many Loach gun-ships all along the snow covered blacktop, which stood between the long wooden buildings and Quonset huts.

When the three federal agents exited the quarter-ton the two Military Policemen gathered up their gear and followed them toward the flight office, which two army captains dressed in flight gear had just exited and were seemingly coming to meet them. The two pilots had been informed of the federals impending arrival by the Provost Marshal's Office and had instructions to give them their utmost cooperation.

Introductions were made all around and then the pilots led them to the flight office where a call was made to the Police Department in Belfast, North Carolina. After Agent Roberts finished his conversation with Special Agent Mabry he and agents Hutton and Dupree then donned olive-drab jump-suits, which looked almost as if they were army issue and were only differentiated from such by the bold white letters FBI that were stitched on the back of them.

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They then removed from their gear two-bolt action 700 Remington 308 high powered rifles that Hutton and Dupree were experts with. It took little time to assemble the parts of the weapons together and connect the shoulder slings. Roberts then gave the two pilots the radio frequency coordinates Mabry had informed him the police in that jurisdiction would be using and, which they should adjust the Huey UH-1 to.

Everyone was briefed on the mission to Belfast then. Roberts told the pilots that they would have to keep a low profile once the thing was over because Special Agent Mabry did not want to jeopardize the prosecution that would follow, that is if they did not have to use force and perhaps kill the perpetrators. The two pilots assured Roberts they could be relied upon to keep silent and would conduct themselves with absolute professionalism.

At last they were ready to exit the flight office to make their way to the flight line. A Huey UH-1 had been towed into place to await them. It looked starkly naked without its normal attachments. In Vietnam it would have been mounted with many armaments including mini-guns and skid rockets. Once its tarpaulin was removed and it was checked for maintenance one last time by the ground crew Captains Jerrold and Bradley climbed into the cockpit.

The federal agents then came on board. The MPs who'd chauffeured them here brought up the rear with their gear. The agents then secured themselves and their gear inside the copter. The ground crew closed the side doors of the gun-ship, which normally held seven heavily armed grunts when it was on a combat mission in Southeast Asia. They were now ready for the short flight to the town of Belfast.

Special Agent Roberts now affixed a radio headpiece over his baseball cap and gave the thumbs up signal to the two pilots. Once they had completed the run-up procedures Jerrold and Bradley pulled on their brain bucket protective helmets and prepared to take off. They pulled down their helmet visors and Jerrold fired up the vessel and momentarily he had the machine in a vertical lift. Ir rose up gingerly in the cold morning air its bright lights distinctive in the darkness. It eventually rose to an altitude of 6000 feet as it escaped the air space of the military installation and on out beyond the nearby city of Sayerville.

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They soon ferreted out Route 18 East though it was almost totally obscured by the lay of the snow. They flew directly above it like a needle along the seam of a white dress. Above them the voluminous dark clouds cloaked the sky and it seemed the snow might begin again to fall.

As daylight slowly emerged they saw the snow covered trees in rare residential settings, scatterings of gleeful children celebrating the rarely seen snow. Many were disappointed however that it had chosen to fall while they were out of school for the soon to arrive Christmas Holiday and an opportunity to cancel classes was deferred.

Roberts then began to confer with Captain Jerrold as they churned on toward their destination. "This shouldn't take to long if the wretched weather holds." Jerrold opined after Roberts's initial words. "I agree, but Special Agent Mabry says there are some new developments–he said he'd clue us in once we put down." Roberts said. "Where's that going to be?" Asked Captain Bradley.

"They're clearing a space in the lot of a grocery store there off of Main next door to the municipal building–I believe that's where Mabry said the police department is located. They're going to put down road flares so you can see the LZ more easily." Roberts told them.

"I don't normally feel comfortable in one of these babies without some cannons and skid rockets." said an amused Jerrold to his co-pilot. "Me neither." said Bradley with a laugh. Both men were seasoned veterans who'd logged hundreds of hours flying combat missions in Vietnam even having several choppers shot out from under them. But neither was ever seriously wounded as if they were blessed with luck worthy of George Washington in his early campaigns.

Captain Bradley then turned to the federal agents in the rear of the chopper. "Any of you fellas veterans?" he asked with a grin. "I am." Said Agent Dupree who looked senior in age if not rank to his two colleagues. "What kind of a unit were you with?" Bradley then asked. "Special Forces." The soft-spoken agent answered leaning back against the wall of the fuselage and adjusting the straps that held him secure in the vessel.

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"What was your specialty?" the captain now asked. "Sniper." Dupree said without looking up from what he was doing. Realizing they were off in pursuit of villains that these marksmen might have to dispatch from afar Bradley once more eyed their powerful weapons. At last he said. "It figures."