Kisser (2010)

Larsen.
    “It’s already there,” Larsen replied. “I’ll call him when we’re five minutes out and tell him to start the engines.”
    “Man, oh, man,” Larsen said. “This is really happening.”
    “What’s happening?” Hildy asked. “We’re just going to the Bahamas, right?”
    “You’ll see when we get there,” Sharpe said.
     
     
     
    DINO TAPPED Stone on the shoulder and spoke through his headset from the rear seat. “What the fuck is happening?”
    Stone turned toward the rear seats. “They took a helicopter from the West Side Heliport,” Stone replied, “and they’re headed for Westchester. Just enjoy the view of the Hudson.”
    Mitzi spoke up. “Should I call Brian?”
    “I guess you’d better,” Stone said. “Tell him to alert the team at Westchester that Sharpe and Larsen are headed there in a helicopter and to arrest them on sight.”
    “Will do,” Mimi said.
    Stone turned back and looked north. “I don’t see the chopper,” he said.
    “I was just about to mention that,” the pilot replied. “I don’t see him, either. He was there; then I looked at my chart for a couple of seconds and when I looked up, he was gone.”
    “I heard that,” Dino said. “Now what?”

58
    STONE WAS ANXIOUSLY LOOKING UP and down both shores of the Hudson River. The George Washington Bridge was coming up and the pilot climbed another hundred feet to clear it.
    “I don’t get it,” Stone said. “How could a helicopter just vanish?”
    “He’s low over land somewhere,” the pilot replied. “It’s hard to spot a helicopter from above when it’s flying low.
    Stone began concentrating on looking down. “There . . . No, that’s a car.”
    “See what I mean?”
    “Well, it doesn’t matter how low he flies if he’s going to Westchester,” Stone said. “We’ve got that covered, and they’ll see the chopper when it lands.”
    “What if he’s not going to Westchester?” the pilot asked.
    “What are the alternatives?” Stone asked.
    “I don’t know—Albany? Hartford? Bridgeport?”
    Stone remembered something. “When I was getting my instrument rating, I flew some approaches at Oxford, Connecticut.”
    “That’s worth a try,” the pilot said, flipping through his airport guide. “Five-thousand-foot runway—that’s plenty for a corporate jet. If you’ve got Westchester covered, they won’t miss us.”
    “It’s on the way to Hartford,” Stone said. “Let’s at least take a look at it.”
    The pilot put the airport’s identifier, OXC, into his GPS and swung right, following the needle.
    “How long?” Stone asked.
    “Twelve minutes,” the pilot replied.
     
     
     
    IN THE other helicopter the pilot turned and addressed Larsen. “Five minutes,” he said.
    “I’ll call the airplane,” Larsen said to Sharpe. He tapped a speed-dial key on his cell phone and listened. “I’m not getting through,” he said.
    “We may be moving too fast for the cell phone to capture a tower,” Sharpe said. “It doesn’t matter, we’ll be there in five minutes.”
     
     
     
    “SIX MINUTES,” Stone’s pilot said.
    “Has this thing got any more speed?” Stone asked.
    “I’ll push it,” the pilot said. Then, a moment later, “Four minutes.” He looked up. “Can you see the airport?” he asked.
    Stone looked hard. “No. We’re too low; it just looks like country-side.”
    The pilot climbed another two hundred feet. “There,” he said. “Twelve o’clock and five miles.”
    “There’s the other chopper,” Stone said, “setting down now, and I can see what looks like a Citation on the ramp.” He turned toward the rear. “Looks like we’ve got ’em, Dino,” he said.
    Dino reached into his jacket and produced a Colt .45, 1911 model, and checked it. Mitzi was checking her weapon, too.
    “You are wearing your vest, aren’t you?”
    She pretended not to be able to hear him.
    Stone turned back to the pilot. “Set this thing down right in front of the jet, and keep the rotor turning. He won’t be able to taxi.”
    “Got it,” the pilot said, and started to descend fast. He called Oxford tower and announced his intentions.
    Stone watched as people began to get out of the helicopter and hand baggage to a uniformed pilot. He turned back to Mitzi. “As soon as your cell phone works, get hold of Brian and tell him we’re at Oxford, Connecticut.” He made cell phone motions.
    Mitzi nodded and began trying her cell.
    “What’s your plan?” Dino asked.