Read Under Suspicion - The Legend of D.B. Cooper Page 76

Morton Field. Saturday 11:30 AM.

  Alan followed the signs along the gravel road until he came to the small airfield. The traffic had been terrible and it slowed him down quite a bit. He hoped that it was also slowing down the bad guys.

  The airfield was a single runway cut out of the middle of a fifty-acre hay field. Tall pines surrounded the field on all sides with a gravel road leading up to it that continued on into the mountains. On one side of the runway were three hangers. Each was identical except for a small room made of windows on the top of one of them, acting as the field’s tower. Alan lifted the car phone and dialed a number.

  “Hello, Chet Green here,” the voice from the other side said.

  “Chet, get out to Morton field. I’m here now, something should be happening soon.”

  “We’re on our way,” came the reply.

  Alan hung up the phone.

  Alan decided to start his inquiry at the tower and pulled up to it. He got out of his car and walked around the building to the tarmac. There were a dozen or so small planes, sitting in front of the three hangers, arranged in neat rows. The big doors of the first hanger were open. Inside Alan saw a man, in greasy coveralls and baseball cap with a rag sticking out of his back pocket, next to a single engine Piper Cub. Alan approached him.