Page 58 of Maddy's Justice

NINETEEN

When the G-5 was twenty minutes out of St. Paul, Wade MacAlister made a phone call to the Washington office. He told his assistant––a man who was puppy dog loyal to him––that he was taking a few days off. No explanation, no destination, nothing. Do as you’re told.

Instead of going back to the Washington office, the luxury jet landed at Midway in Chicago. The previous evening, MacAlister had made a phone call and changed plans. Waiting for him, was a black Suburban to drive him and his luggage less than two hundred yards. There he found the two Mikes of the Two Mikes Flying Service.

They welcomed MacAlister onboard, stored his luggage and took off heading south. While en route, Mike Hillsdale made sure their special passenger, a very close friend of their boss, wanted for nothing.

MacAlister had left St. Paul at 2:00P.M.They flew fifty minutes to Chicago then arrived on Isla Cantador by 6:30. Waiting to greet him was the island’s owner and Evan Carlin.

On the ride up to the main house, MacAlister pointed at the smaller, new house he had not seen before.

“That’s a home for two very special guests. You’ll meet them tomorrow, Mac,” the island’s owner said.

“Oh? How special?” MacAlister asked.

“You’ll see, my friend. Tonight, we’ll relax, and you can fill me in on your trip to Minnesota. Our dinner will be ready to serve when we get to the house.”

The main course was pheasant breast oven-cooked in a secret sauce made popular in a five-star, New York restaurant. MacAlister, mostly in his younger days, had been an avid outdoorsman. Of course, his friends in government allowed him the best hunting and fishing to be found on the continent. Best of all he could expense it and let the taxpayers pay for it.

“I can’t remember the last time I had pheasant,” MacAlister said. “And it was wonderful.”

They were standing on the deck above the main swimming pool enjoying after dinner cigars and cognac. The view was to the west and the sun was going down.

“Well, I was gonna surprise you tomorrow, but what the hell.”

“Oh?” MacAlister asked.

“Since you missed the festivities this past weekend…”

“And the hunt.”

“I’ve arranged to have another one for just the two of us. In fact, you’ll meet them a little later. Your entertainment for the evening.”

“Sounds good. I’ve been a little stressed lately. I could use something to help me relax.”

The next morning, the two men, dressed in camouflage, hunting clothes, were standing outside the large shed where the ATVs were kept. Evan and two of his men were warming up two of the ATVs for the festivities.

“Beautiful day,” MacAlister said while looking at the cloudless morning sky. At that moment Evan and another security man drove two Rangers out of the shed. Odessa walked out with the third security man.

“How was your night?” the island’s owner asked.

“I needed that,” MacAlister said. “A little sexcapade to ease the stress. Pity those two have to go.”

“They do,” his host replied.

“You riding along?” he asked Odessa.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” she answered.

They walked over to the ATVs to get started.

“You go with Evan,” the island’s owner said. “We’ll stick together, and I’ll let you take the shots.”

“Looking forward to it,” MacAlister said as he got into his ride.

Normally, this hunt would only be done with compound bows. Except MacAlister had lived a little too much of an indulged life and could no longer handle a bow very well. Instead, Evan handed him a Remington bolt-action 700 with a six-power scope.

“Ready?” Evan asked.

---