Mike Dixon

trade in native birds was illegal. David had strong views
about people who engaged in it. He used to regard them as
monsters. Now he realized that some were pathetic charac-
ters like Daryl.
He went outside, found the horse and led it by the bridle.
The airfield was clearly visible from the Dutchman‟s cave and
he‟d kept it under observation while he was staying with the
old man. It was located on a narrow spit of land between the
mangroves and the ridge. The runway was roughly graded
and marked by landing lights. A shed at one end had satellite
dishes on its roof.
He reached the airstrip and made for the shed. Like the
Volvo, it was one of the few things that looked new and not
falling to pieces. He had tools with him. He‟d put them in the
saddlebag figuring they would be needed to gain access.
When he got to the shed they weren‟t needed. The door had
been forced at some time and was held shut by a piece of
string. He untied it and went inside.
The equipment was much as expected. He‟d seen it on a
familiarization course run by one of the emergency services
organizations. Amongst other things, it could access the aviation
communications channels. His intentions were far more
modest. He planned to use it to call Rebecca‟s mobile.
The power came on when he hit the switch on the control
panel. Seconds passed and the screen flickered into life. The
communications channels were displayed and he studied