Flying Blind (1)It was a late Friday afternoon in April. Clay Center, Kansas, population 4,600, a town with only five traffic lights. Folks heading home after work. The sun still hanging warm and gold over young wheat fields, the light fading toward sunset.County Sheriff Chuck Dunn was sitting in his patrol car when he saw Michael Michaud in an old GMC pickup that had been painted an odd silver color. The truck did a slow turn down the street in front of him. Michaud, 28, a solidly built man of 6”2“ and 230 pounds, had a criminal record and various drug-related arrests. Dunn guessed the routine part of the evening might be over. He radioed for a check of the vehicle and the license plate： They didn”t match.Dunn”s friend Mike Spicer was just arriving home. Tall and trim, Spicer was the manager of the local airport. Taught to fly by his father, he had piloted airplanes since he was a kid, once blowing the window out of a plane while doing aerobatics.Spicer, a county commissioner, and his wife, Pam, were to attend the annual Clay Center Presbyterian Manor fair, benefiting the Manor”s senior-citizen residents. Pam was already dressed, but Spicer had worked late and hadn”t changed out of his work pants, hooded sweatshirt or the black baseball cap marked with the letters API （Aircraft Parts International） that he always wore. There wasn”t much time to get ready.Chuck Dunn rolled his police car in behind Michaud”s truck. He was not too concerned. Michaud was a familiar character in town, erratic, but not particularly dangerous. This was just an illegal plate. Routine trouble.Dunn flicked on his lights and siren.The silver pickup didn”t stop. It kept moving through traffic out of town. When it hit the city limits, the truck rocketed forward, heading south. Dunn followed, the vehicles whipping down a narrow country road. After a couple of miles, the pickup veered east into a hard turn, careened through a gap in the fencing and bounced out into a rolling field of wheat, jumping over terraces, ripping through electric fences.Dunn stopped his patrol car. He wasn”t going to risk his vehicle over a license plate. He called for backup to help corner the suspect.And he called for his secret weapon： Mike Spicer and his plane. In the flat, open countryside, everything would be visible from the air. Mike was not part of the law enforcement team, but he was a friend and Dunn knew he would help.Spicer”s phone rang. It was the sheriff”s dispatcher asking if he could take his Cessna up and help Sheriff Dunn locate a fleeing suspect. Seven local officers were already searching on the ground, and more were on the way. Spicer hadn”t even taken off his cap yet. He looked at the antique clock on the wall. The brass hand pointed to 5：32. Dinner at the Manor was at 6. But Spicer didn”t hesitate. He could see the airport from his house. He could be in the air in minutes.Only 15 planes tie down at the Clay Center Municipal Airport, one of them Spicer”s small Cessna 150. Now he had it warming up off the airport”s single runway. Just before takeoff, his cell phone rang.It was Arnie Knoettgen, the mayor of nearby Morganville, who doubles as a reserve county deputy. He had heard Sheriff Dunn”s call for air assistance on the radio and volunteered to ride along with Spicer as a spotter. He told Spicer to wait for him. He was on his way.