Lost Charity by Wayne Stinnett

Author:Wayne Stinnett
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Wayne Stinnett
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Two hours later, Bud began the descent to Maurice Bishop International Airport. When Charity contacted air traffic control, she was told she had priority clearance. The controller gave her taxiing instructions to the fixed-base operator, where a customs agent would be standing by for them.

“I guess we’re expected,” Bud said. “I was afraid of that.”

“What do you mean?” Charity asked, looking back at Chyrel.

“There might be some advance news of Tank’s arrival. Certain protocols are in order.”

As Bud flew over the runway, Charity noticed flashing lights around the apron at the FBO and several people standing outside.

“Something’s sure going on,” she said.

He followed the taxiway toward the FBO, where a ground crewman separated himself from a small crowd of people, raised his paddles and guided Bud to a spot in the center of the apron. A business jet sat facing the taxiway, its interior lights creating a warm glow from the hatch. The starboard engine was running.

As they were shutting down the engines, a uniformed man came out to the helo, opened the back door and asked if Chyrel was the next of kin.

“Yes,” she replied. “He’s my husband.”

After Charity and Bud hurried through the shutdown checklist, Charity climbed out of the cockpit and helped Chyrel down.

“What’s going on?” Chyrel asked the man, as she looked around at the different emergency vehicles with lights flashing.

“I am Claude Whyte,” the man replied. “I am the customs inspector here in Greens. Mr. Armstrong asked if I could move things along for you and he told me who your husband was. Our people hold American Marines in high regard, ma’am.”

Chyrel looked around, a little bewildered. “Will this take long?” she asked, watching a group of men approach.

“You have the paperwork?”

“Um, yeah,” Chyrel replied, reaching back inside the helo and grabbing a briefcase.

The approaching men wore various uniforms—policemen, firefighters, customs agents, and some Charity didn’t recognize.

“Let us go inside,” the inspector said. “Dese men will transfer your husband into de jet while I sign your papers, and den you will be back in de air in no time atall.”

“Go with him,” Bud told Chyrel. “We’ll make sure everything’s good here.”

As Chyrel walked inside with the inspector, Charity and Bud watched two men quickly take all their belongings out of the helicopter, while the others unstrapped the casket and carried it over to the waiting plane.

One of the men who’d flown Charity to Grenada five days earlier waited at the door. She glanced toward the cockpit and saw Joe at the controls. Phil Nester recognized her as she and Bud approached, leading the casket bearers.

“Miss Styles,” Phil said. “I didn’t know you’d be on our flight as well.”

“It’s not the way we’d planned, Phil,” Charity said. “This is Bud Ferguson. We were both friends of the deceased. Bud will be flying on to Florida with the body, but I’m only going as far as St. Thomas. Bud, this is Captain Phil Nester. His copilot, Captain Joe Tarlton, is up in the cockpit.”

Charity noticed the two men who’d carried the luggage waiting inside the plane, so she moved out of the way.

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