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Jet Blues
"I can't believe we stole a 747," Marsha said. "How are we going to get out of this?"
"I wasn't going to risk getting arrested by the Feds," Cardinal said. "I told you to leave with the passengers. You didn't want to, so here we are."
Marsha glared.
"All right, let's evaluate our assets. We have a plane." He paused. "Well, that's about it, I guess . . . . Oh, and then there are seven milk bottles full of chicken embryos."
Marsha turned red, and pointed to two spots in the sky, one on each side. "See those? Those are F-16s. They are following us. We have the National Air Defense after us."
"I've been in tighter spots. Remember the time I was almost executed and a presidential pardon came through in the last minute?"
"Yes, John, as a matter of fact I do. I was the one who delivered that pardon. But I can't deliver the same magic this time."
"You think we're on the national news?"
"Yes, I think we're on the national news, John."
"Well, the attention is kind of nice, but overall it's a negative. We should probably have kept a low profile here, don't you think?"
"I am not going to dignify that with a response."
The cockpit was silent except for the steady roar of the jets.
Cardinal picked up the radio headset. He could hear a voice shouting in his ear. "Flight 249, come in. Flight 249, come in. Come in, or we will have to shoot you down."
Huh, 249, Cardinal thought. I once had a credit card with a PIN number like that -- 2499, 2494, something. Then he recognized the shouting voice. "Dave Vitter," he said into the mic. The voice went silent immediately. "Oh, my Lord," it moaned. "Cardinal, is that you?"
"One in the same, my friend," Cardinal said.
Marsha looked at Cardinal twice. "You know this guy? What's going on?"
"Don't worry, honey," Cardinal said. "Vitter is going to be of great help to us. He's CIA, high ranking. We've got leverage with him. Let's just say Dave and I have a masseuse for a mutual friend."
Next Episode: The Preferred Blonde