Stone Barrington 06-11

down. Suggest runway one niner, if able.”
    “I’ll do the best I can,” Stone replied. “Dino?”
    “Shut up and fly the chopper,” Dino said.
    Stone took his advice. He began trying to slow the helicopter; he was too hot, and he pulled back on the throttle and held his altitude to bleed off airspeed, the way he would do in an airplane. He could see the runway, now, and he was about two hundred feet above it. He pulled the throttle back to idle, and the thing began dropping like a rock. He added power, but he was still high and hot. He chopped the throttle again and yanked back on the stick. The sky filled the windshield, and with his peripheral vision he could see the ground coming up fast. He passed over the runway, losing altitude, in a nose-up position.
    The helicopter struck tail first, and still Stone held the stick back. Then it slammed into the ground, and strangely, there was water everywhere. Stone, who was not wearing a seat belt, was thrown forward, striking his head on the windshield. The last thing he heard was the noise of the rotor chewing up the ground, then everything went quiet. THE VOICE came from a distance: “Stone?” A small voice. “Stone?” Somebody shook him and pulled him back into his seat. Stone opened his eyes and looked around.
    “Peter?”
    “Here I am, Stone.”
    “Are you all right?”
    “Yeah, and I did what you said.”
    “What?”
    “I got behind the seat and stayed there. It was sort of like a ride at the carnival in Charlottesville, but not as much fun.”
    The air was filled with approaching sirens, and Stone was aware that a helicopter was landing a few yards away. He looked out the window and saw that they had come to rest in shallow water, a swampy area between a runway and a taxiway. Twenty yards away he saw his own airplane, parked with others in the infield. Then he passed out.
    HIS DREAMS were not good: They were a montage of Billy Bob, Arrington, Peter and Tiffany Baldwin, who always seemed to be screaming at him. Then, slowly, they faded and he found himself in a darkened room. Sunlight peeked from behind venetian blinds. Someone was holding his hand.
    “Stone?” A woman’s voice.
    “Go away, Tiff,” he said wearily. He had had enough of her.
    “It’s Arrington.”
    Stone turned his head and looked at her. “It is, isn’t it?” he said, relieved.
    “You’re all right; you just had a couple of bumps on the head. You lost a little hair, and you have a few stitches, and your head is sort of swollen, but you’ll be just fine. All you have to do is rest.”
    “I’m hungry,” Stone said. “Am I on drugs?”
    “The doctor gave you something when they stitched your head up yesterday. He wanted you to rest.”
    “Yesterday? And now it’s today?”
    “That’s how it works, Stone: yesterday, then today.”
    “Can I have a bacon cheeseburger?”
    “I’m not sure that’s on the menu, but I’ll get you something.” She picked up the call buzzer and pressed it. A moment later a nurse came in, followed by Dino and Lance.
    “Okay, Lance,” he said. “Now you can court-martial me.”
    Everybody began laughing.

59
    LANCE AND DINO took him home that afternoon, in Arrington’s chauffeured Bentley.
    “Where’s Arrington?” Stone asked, as they got into the car.
    “She and Peter had something to do,” Dino said. “She didn’t say what.”
    “Let me tell you where we are,” Lance said. “We recovered thirty-five grenades from the helicopter you crashed.”
    “Crashed? I thought that was a pretty good landing, considering.”
    “Controlled crash was how the FAA described it,” Dino said. “The helicopter is a total loss.”
    “That’s what insurance is for.”
    “Billy Bob managed to fire one grenade while he was falling from the helicopter,” Lance said.
    “Nearly blew the police chopper I was riding in out of the sky,” Dino said.
    “The explosion broke a lot of windows along the New York bank of the Hudson, but nobody was seriously injured,” Lance said. “We rolled up Martin Block’s operation in Queens, and he’s singing like a bird. The feds have put a stop to three or four cons Billy Bob was running out of Block’s building, and they found all his bank records there, so they’re going after his offshore cash as we speak.”

    “Where did he get all the two-dollar bills?” Stone asked.
    “Billy Bob bought them at a sharp discount from the grandson of one of the robbers,” Lance said. “He met the kid at