Page 62 of Under the Radar

Ethan turned onto Route 50 heading for the Ocean City Municipal Airport and called Mac. There was no answer. In all the years he’d known and worked with him, Mac had never missed a phone call. The man was as precise with his words as he was with his sniper rifle. Whatever was going on had Mac in a tailspin. Ethan was more convinced than ever that he needed to be in Baltimore.

He parked his truck just inside an empty hangar, tossed the keys to the attendant and hoofed his equipment to the helicopter. Relief whooshed from his chest when he saw that the chopper warming up was The Beauty. She was a newer model with a smooth ride, and rarely a malfunction. On the other hand, he and his unit had spent many a harrowing trip on the monster nearby they called The Beast. The Beast offered major turbulence guaranteed to upend his stomach and had flown the last three years with one or more malfunction lights blinking the entire trip. Kind of like flying a canoe with a propeller. It was a good sign to see The Beauty’s blades in motion.

He handed in the gear, locked his seat belt, and slipped the headset over his ears. His burner phone rang. Mac.

“Ethan, what’s that noise?”

“I’m in a chopper headed for Baltimore. I need you to okay our landing at the helipad on your building,” he shouted. Ethan grabbed hold of the ceiling strap as the chopper took off. “I’ll be there in about forty minutes.”

“You’re coming here?”

“Yes.”

“I’m so grateful, man, thank you.” Mac disconnected the call.

Ethan pinched the bridge of his nose as the airport disappeared from view. Whatever was going on remained a mystery, but one thing was for sure. The honeymoon was over.