Sky and the Hijackers

Fiction by Frank Knebel

Chapter 1

The station wagon bearing the logo of the Flying Coronet ranch passed the first few buildings on the eastern edge of the town of Kermit at a speed well above the posted limit. When it squealed to a stop, its left turn signal flashing, the sizable dust cloud the car had raised caught and enveloped the vehicle as the driver waited for an older, slow-moving car in the oncoming lane to pass. Once the way was clear, the wagon turned sharply across the other lane toward a single story concrete block building on the south side of the road. There were two cars parked diagonally in front of the building, a fact the driver apparently had not seen, for the wagon had to keep turning sharply left to reach the only remaining parking spot at the end of the line. Even before the engine stopped, the wagon’s radio could be heard plainly.

     “Peggy Sue! Peggy Sue! Pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty Peggy Sue!”

     Copper Ryder let Buddy Holly and the Crickets continue the song’s driving rhythm to the end before turning the key completely. Still humming the tune, the girl threw open the door and practically leaped from the car. Copper looked curiously at the two cars parked nearer the office’s front door. A sign on the front of the building read Irons Transport and Hauling.

     “I thought that Karen said that business was really bad!” thought the girl as she swung the car door shut. She noted Karen’s own car parked on the side close to a back door. “Maybe she’s finally got a few good paying customers! But she can’t let them make her late for the one job she has now.”

     The girl strode to the front door, noting that the blue panel truck with Irons Transport on the front doors sat waiting on the other side of the building. The shades behind the front windows were drawn, but that was not unusual in the June heat of northern Arizona. Copper turned the knob and plunged inside.

     “Come on, Karen!” she called. “We’ve got to get going if ---“

     She stopped. Her friend Karen Irons was seated beside one of the two desks near the front of the office as two men bound her with rope. Karen’s blond hair and beautiful, serene face were unmistakable, even though a thick white cloth covered her face from nose to chin. Her azure blue eyes were wide with surprise and alarm at Copper’s appearance.

     No less surprised were the two men binding her. The tall, very lean man behind the chair had frozen in the act of passing a rope around Karen, both hands reaching down in front of her to make sure the cord was drawn tightly with several others just under her breasts. These loops went completely around the woman and the back of the wooden chair, pinning her there. Karen’s hands were not visible, but from the position of her shoulders Copper knew they were tied behind her back. Another man, shorter and more muscular, was kneeling in front of the chair binding Karen’s ankles together side by side. When he turned to her, Copper saw a ruddy, very Irish-looking face under a receding, graying hairline.

     “Well, well,” he said with a smile. “Look what came in, Egan.”

     A toothy grin slowly spread over the lean man’s unpleasant face. One of his slightly protruding eyes looked wildly, probably sightlessly, off to the side. His mouth was wide and his teeth were also protruding and brilliantly white, giving him the look of a hungry wolf.

     “Whaddaya know!” he said, his good eye glinting. “Another blonde.”

     He turned his head to the right and looked down. Two other men were securing two more blond women to chairs behind the desk on the other side of the room. One of the blondes, young and petite, though with the same voluptuous figure as Karen’s, Copper recognized as Jill Irons, Karen’s nineteen-year-old sister. Jill wore the same outfit as Karen: blue jeans, boots, and a light blue work shirt with “Irons Transport” stitched over the left breast. Her hands were bound behind her, several coils of rope held her tightly against the chair back, and a band of white cloth passing around her head held a wad of the same type cloth in her mouth. A slender, brown-haired and mustachioed man, who looked more like an accountant than a thug, rose from finishing the tying of her feet. To their right, a tall, husky man was tying the third woman into her chair. This woman was probably nearing forty, though there appeared to be an attractive face behind the cloth holding her gag in place. Unlike the Irons sisters, she wore a dress and nylons and low-heeled shoes. The big man looked Copper up and down.

     “Yeah,” he said. “We could use a change. Hey, honey. Got any brunette friends?”

     The wolfish Egan grinned more widely and licked his chops.

     “You got it all wrong, Bry. You can’t have too many blondes!”

     Copper turned to run, but the front door was on a spring and had shut behind her. As she reached for it, she heard Egan’s voice.

     “Sawyer! Speese! Grab her! Make sure she doesn’t get away!”

     The girl managed to get hold of the knob and yank the door open, but before she could take a second step the stocky Irishman had his right arm around her waist and was swinging her off her feet. She tried to hold the doorknob with her left hand as she beat her right fist on the man’s arm.

     “Hey! Let me go, you big palooka!” she cried.

     “Give it up, cutie,” he said as he tucked her on his hip. With his left hand he tried to get her desperately gripping fingers to release the knob, but her struggling and kicking made it difficult to control her. The accountant, now looking even less thug-like, stood by uncertainly.

     “Come on, Speese,” growled the stocky man.

     He stepped forward and pried Copper’s fingers from around the doorknob. The door swung shut. Sawyer turned to Egan, swinging the girl around quickly enough that her flat-crowned Western hat fell off.

     “What should we do with this new one, Egan?”

     Egan looped Karen Irons’ body with one more turn of rope and began tying off the rope ends behind the chair.

     “Tie her up with the others. Get another chair, Speese.”

     There was a line of chairs forming a waiting area by the door. The bookkeeper took one and set it in front of the desk.

     “You just wait until my Uncle Sky gets hold of you!” Copper warned, continuing to struggle and flail in Sawyer’s grasp.

     “Come on, honey,” Sawyer said calmly as he carried her to the chair where Speese stood. “Just do as you’re told.”

     He swung her back to the ground and gave her a push on the shoulder, indicating she should sit. Speese was taking more rope from a cardboard box on the desk.

     “You won’t get away with this, you know,” Copper continued. “This is a law-abiding town.”

     Egan stepped from behind the chair where Karen Irons was bound. He was ogling the beautiful blonde.

     “Yeah,” said Egan, not taking his eyes from Karen. “I’m really afraid of small-town Sheriffs.” He looked momentarily at Copper. “Oh, and your uncle’s going to make mincemeat out of us, isn’t he?”

     He turned back to Karen and tested some of the ropes around her, letting one hand briefly stray over her breast. He undid the top button of her blouse. The beautiful blonde looked up reproachfully at him but made no noise.

     “Mighty nice, Miss Irons,” Egan hissed. “It’s too bad we can’t make an example of you in some other way. We’d like that.”

     “Yeah,” added Bry. “There’s one for each of us now. Of course they’re all blondes, and one of them isn’t exactly a spring chicken anymore.”

     He poked the shoulder of the woman in the dress. She looked up indignantly.

     Speese was tying Copper’s wrists behind her back while Sawyer looped her booted feet. The Irishman looked back at Bry and his prisoner.

     “She may not be as fresh as the others, but she still looks pretty good to me,” said Sawyer.

     Egan laughed harshly.

     “That’s ‘cause you’re older than she is.” He leered back at Karen. “I’ll take this sweet thing anytime.”

     Karen tried to return his look but turned away after a few seconds. Egan laughed again. His laughter was almost as wild as his bulging, off-kilter eye.

     “You guys weren’t very smart picking this place to rob,” Copper said. “You won’t find a lot of money here.”

     Egan put his hands on his hips and surveyed the work in progress. Bry finished with the woman in the dress and went over to check Jill Irons’ bonds. Speese was tying Copper into the chair as Sawyer made a few loops around the girl’s legs just above the knees.

     “Real nice o’ you t’ try t’ keep us from wastin’ our time, little lady,” said Egan. “But we ain’t interested in what’s in the till, just in what’s goin’ onto that truck outside.”

     “But that’s just a shipment of food and water and some tools for one of Professor Stanton’s groups from the University at one of the dig sites.”

     Egan shook his head.

     “Diggin’ fer stuff left behind by Injuns who haven’t been there fer hunnerts o’ years! And you’re worried about us wastin’ our time!” He laughed once more. “Won’t nobody care if he an’ his outfit have to give up an’ come on in with nothin’ t’ show fer the summer.”

     Copper was genuinely puzzled.

     “But what can you have against the Professor or ---“

     Sawyer cut her off by pressing a wad of cloth in her mouth. Speese secured the gag with a wrap of cloth around her head and between her teeth, then another wider wrap that covered her lower face.

     Bry stepped closer to the desks.

     “These two are done,” he said indicating Jill and the older woman with a jerk of his thumb.

     “Okay,” said Egan. “You and Sawyer go load the rest of the Professor’s order into the truck.”

     “Right,” said Bry with a nod. “It shouldn’t take too long. There’re only a few boxes left.”

     “Well get ‘em loaded. We gotta get outta here as fast as possible.”

     Bry and Sawyer went through the office area and out the rear door. Speese looked apprehensively at the four bound and gagged women.

     “What happens to them?” he asked Egan.

     “They’re witnesses, ain’t they? Can’t leave ‘em behind t’ tell the Sheriff about us.”

     Speese’s eyes went wide.

     “You don’t mean that we’re going to---“

     “Take it easy, Speese. You’re not gonna have to do anything.”

     Egan crossed to the box of rope on the desk and reached inside. He pulled out a smaller box and removed the cover, revealing a small alarm clock fastened to a flat, rectangular wooden base. Wires ran from the clock to a pyramid arrangement of long, thin cylinders wrapped in paper and held together with bands of tape.

     “Is that dynamite?” gasped Speese.

     All four of the helpless women mewed into their gags. Jill and the woman in the dress shook their heads pleadingly.

     “I don’t rightly know,” said Egan. “I don’t make bombs myself, but the Boss said it’ll do the job just fine. All I gotta do is set the clock.”

     Speese ran his hand over his mouth. As he regarded Egan and the bomb, he looked like an accountant seeing an auditor holding a set of obviously fraudulent books.

     “I didn’t know there was going to be any killing,” he mumbled. “I mean---“ He gestured weakly toward the prisoners --- “they’re women.”

     Egan grinned, again the slavering wolf.

     “Yeah. I can think of a lot better things t’ do with ‘em myself.” He gave Copper an appraising glance. “Y’ know, this newest one’s real cute. How ‘bout it, honey? Like to have some fun with us?”

     He slowly unfastened the top button of her checkered shirt, displaying some of the girl’s impressive cleavage. He whistled.

     “Mighty nice set fer a little gal!”

     He reached down again, obviously intending to take one of her breasts in his hand. All of the bound women began squirming in their chairs and protesting into their gags. Egan looked at them all in turn.

     “You ladies all eager t’ be next?”

     Sawyer poked his head through the loading dock door.

     “Hey! We need the truck moved back here.”

     “Okay,” Egan replied with a wave. Sawyer disappeared again.

     “Do we have to let that thing go off?” asked Speese, nodding toward the bomb.

     “I told ya, you don’t hafta do anything. Go on outside and move the truck back t’ the loadin’ dock and help the others.”

     Speese looked uncertainly at the bound women then hurried out the front door. Egan set the bomb on top of a filing cabinet along the wall.

     “If you ladies’ll excuse me, I gotta go supervise.” He grinned. “Don’t go away now.”

     He strode to the rear of the building and into the loading dock. The door had barely closed behind him before all four women began struggling mightily in their bonds. It took Copper only a minute or so to determine that it was useless. She might be able to free herself from the ropes eventually, but it would take more time than they were likely to have. She looked about for something to use to cut her bonds. There seemed to be nothing sharp within easy reach. There was the glass of the front windows but, after binding her ankles together, Sawyer had connected her bound feet to one of the legs of the chair. Kicking the window to break it would be impossible, and the only alternative was tipping her chair over to fall through while bound, far too risky an idea. She kept looking.

     Her fellow captives were also busy trying to free themselves. Karen and Jill were fighting the ropes gamely but without success. Jill’s eyes appeared hopeless and despairing. The woman Copper did not know continued struggling with great determination. Though she looked vaguely familiar, Copper could not place her and wondered, not for the first time, who she was.

     And then she saw it. Partially hidden under some sheets of paper, a letter opener lay not far from the edge of Karen’s desk closest to Copper. The back of the chair to which Copper was bound had a wide center support from the seat to the top edge, but there was space between the center support and the outer stiles. If she could move the chair to the desk and stand on her feet, there was a chance she could slip her tied wrists through the space and get hold of the opener. It was not much of a chance, but it was all she could see.

     Copper put her toes and the balls of her feet firmly onto the floor and began bouncing for all she was worth. It took a number of tries, but she managed to move the chair very close to the desk. She then squirmed sideways in an attempt to slide her bound hands into the opening in the chair back. Checking the position of the blade, she put her feet on the ground and tried to stand up. Twice she lost her balance and fell back into the seat, but on the third attempt she was able to stand, though she had to bend over because of the chair. She stretched out her fingers and searched for the letter opener.

     The other women watched her, uncomprehendingly at first. Karen saw the letter opener and urged Copper on through her gag. Jill, near tears, sat motionless. The third woman continued working at her own ropes.

     After what seemed a long struggle, Copper’s fingertips touched the handle of the opener. She slid it closer to her and had just managed to grip it when she was interrupted by a familiar voice.

     “Well, well!” said Egan. “Whadda we got here?”

     As Copper and the others watched in frozen horror, Egan marched to the desk and took the blade from her fingers.

     “You coulda made a lotta mischief with somethin’ like this, little gal.”

     He tossed it back toward the loading dock door, then went around the desk. With a shove on her shoulder, he pushed Copper back to a sitting position.

     “You’re a pretty spunky gal. Better make sure there’s not too much time on the clock. I wouldn’t wantcha t’ figger out some other way of gettin’ loose.”

     He took the bomb from the top of the file cabinet, set the time for five minutes to twelve, wound the clock and pulled out the alarm stem.

     “There ya go, ladies,” he announced. “Just five minutes and you’ll be free of those ropes. And all other connections t’ this world.”

     He laughed at their imploring looks. Jill shook her head again. He replaced the device on the cabinet and looked at them all again. The smile faded into a wistful version of his wolf’s leer.

     “Yeah. I’d really have enjoyed spendin’ more time with you all.”

     He laid a finger in Karen’s cleavage and stroked gently for a moment.

     “What a waste,” he said softly.

     Abruptly, he let go of Karen, turned and swiftly exited by the front door. The four prisoners immediately began their desperate struggle against time.

Egan stepped around to the west side of the building where the three other men waited by the panel truck.

     “Everything ready?” he asked.

     Sawyer nodded.

     “All the professor’s stuff’s inside.”

     “Good. That egghead’ll have a pretty tough time diggin’ out there without food or water. Bry, you and Sawyer’ll take the truck. Speese, you take the Chrysler. I’ll take the Chevy. And remember your routes back to the hideout. We don’t want to be seen together.”

     They all nodded in reply.

     “All right. Let’s go.”

     Before they could take a step a voice called out.

     “All right, you men. This is the Sheriff. You’re surrounded. Stay where you are and keep your hands in sight!”

     They looked around in amazement. Across the road they could see several men in khaki uniforms in the cover of the corners of buildings or behind patrol cars. Egan looked to the rear of the building they had just left to see another patrol car pull up, blocking the chance of flight that way. Two deputies, their rifle barrels visible, took cover behind the car.

     The four men froze for a moment. Though they did not move their bodies, their heads kept turning in all directions, desperately seeking a direction for escape.

     “Run for it!” yelled Egan.

     He and Speese dashed back toward the front door of the transport office, heading for the two cars the men had brought.

     “Stop or we’ll shoot!” called the voice.

     Bry drew a pistol from his belt and fired at the deputies across the street. He tried to run around the front of the parked truck to reach the driver’s door. Shots rang out. He fell heavily then attempted to rise, firing another shot in the deputies’ general direction as he struggled to his feet. There was another shot and he fell again and lay rolling in pain near the truck door.

     Sawyer grabbed the handle of the door on the passenger side and swung it open, but before he could get in, the glass of the passenger window was shattered by one bullet and another slammed into the open door, tearing it from his grasp. The man turned toward the deputies at the rear of the building and raised his hands.

     At the sound of the shots, Speese stopped, faced the voice across the road and raised his hands. Egan drew a pistol from his belt and fired hastily in the direction of the shots that had felled Bry. For a moment he waited behind the cover of the parked Chrysler. When there was no firing, he ran toward the Chevy parked between the Chrysler and the station wagon Copper had left in the end space. One bullet thudded into the Chrysler and another gouged a piece of brick from the facing of the building. Someone shouted to the deputies to hold their fire. Crouching low, Egan used the cease fire order as his chance to get in the Chevy and start the engine. He threw the gearshift lever into reverse and spun the wheel. The car gave a convulsive leap backward and to the right.

     As he worked the lever back into drive Egan caught sight of a patrol car coming from his left rear, obviously intending to cut him off. He delayed hitting the gas. The driver of the patrol car cut across his expected path but, with the fugitive car stopped, was now too far in front. Egan spun the wheel to the left and pulled out behind the cruiser before the driver could put the vehicle into reverse. With a laugh that could be heard by his pursuers, Egan gunned the engine and headed east, out of town. As he passed the Sheriff’s car he was struck by the odd idea that there were two women in the front seat.

     Deputy Amy Cole slammed a small fist on the wheel and swore softly. Before she could put the vehicle into reverse to give chase, another patrol car flew past, its siren screaming and light flashing. Another car drew up behind her. Sheriff Winchell leaned out of the passenger window.

     “Sorry I missed him, Sheriff!” Amy called.

     “That’s all right Amy. It was a pretty slick move. You and Sue help out the women inside. We’ll get him.”

     The Sheriff’s car, Deputy Barnes driving, sped off after the first patrol car and the fleeing man. Amy Cole shook her head.

     “What’s wrong, Amy?” asked Deputy Sue Kendall.

     “Oh, first I miss that guy, then the Sheriff tells us to just stay here. It seems that I’m still being told to do women’s work after three years as a deputy.”

     “I wouldn’t take it so hard if I were you. After all both MacKeever and the Sheriff were in better position to give chase and, with all those prisoners to round up, somebody’s going to have to check on Copper and the Irons sisters. It just happens to be us this time.”

     Amy smiled at her new partner.

     “I guess you’re right, Sue.” She shut off the car engine. “Let’s go see what’s happened.”

In his rearview mirror, Egan could see the two police cars behind him. The Chevy he was driving had a powerful engine, but the cruisers were probably an even match for him. It was going to be a near thing. He needed an edge.

     The road was straight and offered no features that he could use to his advantage. He gently guided the right wheels of the car off the paved surface, trying to raise enough dust to blind his pursuers. When the two police cars emerged from the cloud he had raised, Egan could see they had fallen back somewhat. He grinned.

     “All I hafta do is make dust a couple more times and I can leave you fellas way behind,” he said aloud. “Be careful now!”

     He swung the wheels off the road again. Again, the dust caused the pursuing police to slow. Egan was chuckling to himself and waiting for the patrol cars to reappear when he heard the sound of engines above. Looking out the passenger window he saw the plane, a Cessna T-50 Bobcat, now flying low on a parallel course with him.

     “What in thunder...?” he said to himself.

     With a roar of acceleration, the Cessna began pulling ahead, climbing as it did. As Egan watched, the plane quickly outdistanced his car by a mile or so, though stopping its climb at only a few hundred feet. The pilot banked easily to the left in a half circle and headed back directly at him. As the plane came closer it also got lower, to barely a hundred feet. Its propellers raised a huge dust cloud in front of him.

     “What the---“ was all he had time to say before he was blinded by a roiling mass of dust. He could hear small pieces of debris hitting the windshield. Instinctively, he hit the brakes. The car jolted as the right wheels went off the surface of the highway into soft sand, and he lost his hold on the wheel completely. The car struck something solid enough to slow it considerably. Egan was thrown against the steering wheel. He tried to turn it back to the left to find the road again, but the car hit something else and stopped.

     Though badly shaken and still blinded by swirling sand, Egan managed to get out of the car and draw his revolver. When the dust cleared he saw the police cars emerging from the dust about a half-mile behind him. He began to run with no other idea than getting as far from the road as possible, but had only gone five or six strides when he heard the plane engines again. Turning around he saw the Cessna, not three hundred yards away and incredibly low, bearing right for him. With a yelp of terror, he threw himself on the ground and covered his head. From a prone position he fired a couple shots at the plane as it thundered past and staggered to his feet again. The sirens of the police cars were loud on the road behind him. Desperately, he started to run again, now angling a bit to his left away from the plane’s path. He had run perhaps twenty gasping steps when he heard it again. From his right it came at him again. He raised his pistol to fire but dropped the weapon and flung himself down as the plane bore down right at his face. Another rush of dust and noise passed over him as he lay there.

     “All right!” he howled. “I’ve had enough! I give up!”

     He rose to his feet with raised hands as the Sheriff and three deputies came running toward him.

As the other deputies took custody of Sawyer and Speese and tended to Bry’s wounds, Deputies Amy Cole and Sue Kendall cautiously opened the front door of the Irons Trucking office. A chorus of gagged exclamations greeted them.

     “Any of them left in here?” asked Amy.

     Copper shook her head and squealed urgently into her gag, motioning with her head toward the device on the file cabinet. Amy holstered her pistol and entered the room, smiling a bit at Copper as she came.

     “You’re making this into a very bad habit you know, Copper,” she said.

     All of the women made urgent noises into their gags. Copper, now joined by Karen, nodded toward the bomb again. Amy did not comprehend fully but knew that something vital was going on. She hurried to Copper and pulled off the gag covering and tie.

     “What’s going on here?” asked the beautiful Deputy, taking hold of the gag wad with her fingertips and helping Copper spit it out.

     “A bomb!” Copper gasped. She nodded toward it again. “There, on the file cabinet! We’ve got only about two minutes!”

     Amy turned to Sue.

     “Let’s get them out of here, chairs and all. We can untie them later!”

     She and Sue both took a side of Copper’s chair and carried her out the front door and some distance away on the windowless side of the building. They quickly returned and did the same with Karen. Both Amy and Sue were breathing hard as they started back for Jill. Deputy Harry Tyler, stocky and fair-haired, trotted up as they reached the door.

     “What’re you two doing?” he asked with a grin. “You got something against untying them?”

     “There’s a bomb inside, Harry,” Amy replied. “And it’s going to go off in a minute or so.”

     Tyler’s grin vanished.

     “Get them as far from here as you can!” he ordered. “Where is it?”

     “On the file cabinet.”

     Tyler grabbed tiny Jill Irons and her chair while the women deputies removed the fourth woman from the office. He left Jill just outside the door.

     “Get her away from her,” he called to Amy. “I’ll take care of the bomb.”

     Amy and Sue started back for Jill.

     “Harry!” Amy yelled. She hesitated when he turned to her. “You be careful now.”

     He smiled and waved to her as he went back in the office.

     “Does Harry know anything about bombs?” asked Sue as they carried Jill to comparative safety with the other prisoners. They started removing the prisoners’ gags.

     Amy nodded.

     “He set and disarmed booby traps during the War.”

     “But that was a long time ago,” said Copper.

     Amy looked back at the building with a worried expression.

     “I sure hope he hasn’t forgotten everything,” she muttered. She turned to Copper. “What happened in there? Who are those guys?”

     “I don’t know very much,” said Copper shaking her head. “You know that Sky and I were going to help Karen and Jill out by flying the supplies to Professor Stanton at one of the excavation sites.”

     Amy nodded.

     “Well, when I went in the office to see if they were ready to move everything out to the airport, those men were just finishing tying up everybody in the office. I tried to run, but they grabbed me too.”

     Amy had freed Karen’s gag.

     “I’ve never seen any of those men before, Deputy,” said Karen, her blue eyes wide. “I suppose it’s just another in the long line of sabotage attempts of our business, but I have no idea what it’s all about.”

     Sue had loosened Jill Irons gag tie and the girl spat out the wadding. Amy moved over to help the other woman. Sue unfolded a pocketknife and began sawing on the ropes holding Karen to her chair.

     At that moment Deputy Harry Tyler came out the front door. He waved to the women.

     “All clear, girls,” he called.

     “Thank God!” said Amy slipping the gag tie from the fourth prisoner’s mouth. As the woman spat out the gag wad, they all heard the sound of the approaching engines of a Cessna T-50 Bobcat. The plane swept low over the sandy ground behind the transport office.

     “Here comes Sky!” cried Copper. “He’s looking for a place to land.”

     “I hope he has some answers,” said Amy.