The Beginning (Whispering Pines Book 1) Page 5

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  Six hours later and 35 miles out over the Gulf of Mexico, the black-bellied C-130 was clipping waves at 50 feet, once again avoiding detection by the New Orleans Radar stations. The loadmaster, now in the co-pilot seat, nodded at the pilot "It’s as good a place as any."

  The pilot turned and raised an eyebrow. “Here at this altitude? We’re too low.”

  The loadmaster unlocked his seat harness and stood. “Just fly the ship and let me take care of the rest. He's tied up and at this speed he is going to either drown or pop open like a watermelon when he hits the water."

  The pilot nodded. “Yea, you're right. He will be fish food either way.”

  The rear cargo door opened slowly when the handler pressed a release button on the side panel then another that released the locks on the wooden pallet on which Matt Veal was strapped. With one foot, the handler shoved at the crate and it skittered down the rail deck and then out the rear door and disappeared from view. He grinned then closed the doors and returned to the cockpit. “Fish food,” the pilot said when he saw the green “Door Secure” indicator light on the operation panel flash. “He’s nothing but fish food.”