FIRE ON HIGH
“Fire On High” is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to any person living or dead is purely coincidental. All characters and settings © Tigermark 2003-2004 unless otherwise noted. Request permission before using them, please.
The character Anatol Altaisokova is my name for a character © Max Blackrabbit, and appears in this story with his permission. The characters of Brandy, Maxwell, and Tonya are also © Max Blackrabbit and appear here with his permission.
Matt Barstock and Intermountain Charter © Silver Coyote. See their story HERE.
Chapter 10
CHANGE OF DIRECTION
“Mom, it’s just so bad I’d like to run away! They all seem to stare or laugh and whisper behind my back. They don’t seem to realize that I can hear them. I’ve spent a week now hearing that, and I don’t want to go back!”
Tia was nearly in tears, pouring out her anguish to Jenna, who sat patiently on the couch with her daughter and listened.
“Tia,” she said after a moment, “You’ve had to change schools at odd times before. You always thrived on it. I got your test scores in the mail just a bit ago; you scored so high they’re going to advance you at least one grade, possibly two. That means you’ll probably graduate high school here when you’re 16.”
Jenna was suddenly uncomfortable with the thought of her little girl graduating high school so young, but she suppressed the feeling and listened as Tia continued.
“I know, it’s just one more way to say I’m a freak, and that I don’t fit in here. I never had trouble like this at other schools.”
“Military base schools have kids of all kinds, from all over. The kids here probably aren’t used to seeing tigers,” Jenna said soothingly.
“IT’S NOT the fact that I’m a tiger that they talk about. IT’S MY TAIL!!” Tia shouted in frustration.
Taken aback, Jenna nodded slowly as the understanding dawned on her. Tia’s tail was the most visible reminder of her mixed heritage. Such things were fairly common on military bases, but in the wilds of central Kentucky, it was attracting more attention than Tia was used to.
“I feel like just running away and hiding,” Tia repeated, crossing her arms and slouching down into the sofa. Jenna looked at her daughter cautiously, gauging what to say to bring Tia out of her snit.
“That doesn’t sound like Academy material, young lady!” Jenna suddenly said with a sharp tone in her voice.
Tia looked up, eyes wide, unused to the tone in her mother’s voice. Jenna had heard Jason use that tone a few times on Andrew, and the military snap in it had struck a chord with Tia.
“If you’re going to be an Air Force Officer, you’d better learn to let things like this roll off you. What are you going to do at the Academy when the upper classfurs tease you, run and cry? You won’t last the first week being that way.” Jenna said, carefully measuring her words.
Tia looked at her mother, mouth slightly open, tail halted in mid-flip. She sat up a little straighter, but still didn’t reply.
“That’s it! Sit up straight! Have some military bearing! Don’t let anyone ever get to you by teasing or laughing. You are excellent at whatever you choose to do, and I am so proud of you I could burst!” Jenna watched as her words had the desired effect. Tia transformed before Jenna’s eyes from downtrodden child to poised, determined young lady.
“Thanks Mom, I really needed that,” Tia said after a moment, her eyes clear now.
Andrew strolled in at that moment, and Jenna got the feeling it would be a good time for a family discussion. Anton had said it was okay to tell the kids about his cancer, and Jenna wanted to talk to them both about their father now that the dust of moving had begun to settle.
“Andrew, have a seat. I’d like to talk to you both before you start your weekend,” Jenna said.
“K, Mom, what’s up?” Andrew said as he flopped into the recliner and wrapped his tail up and over the back of the seat.
Jenna had to chuckle. As cool and collected as Tia usually was, Andrew had about as much military bearing as a kali pup.
“I wanted to tell you both what the doctor told Grandpa while he was here,” Jenna said, choosing a neutral tone to start the conversation. Tia waited, unblinking, although her expression shifted toward a slightly worried look. Andrew sat up straighter, his ears forward, showing that his attention was focused on what Jenna had to say.
“The news was not good. Grandpa didn’t want anything said while he was here. He didn’t want to appear weak in front of you,” Jenna began. Tia snorted, and Andrew rolled his eyes in an “Oh-come-off-it” look.
Jenna gave them both a sharp look, and then continued, “The doctor said he has stomach cancer, and the outlook isn’t good. He’s scheduled to see a doctor in Charleston Thursday so he can start chemotherapy.”
Tia’s eyes welled with tears, and Andrew just sat quietly for a few seconds, looking stunned.
“Not him, too,” the young tiger finally said.
Tia wiped her tears, and then said in a shaky voice, “How long, Mom?”
“They wouldn’t say for sure, it depends on how well the chemo works. It could be a year, it could be five, and it could be six months. I know this is a shock, especially after all that’s happened, but Grandpa doesn’t want us to cry. He’s a good Christian fur, and when it’s his time to go home, he’ll be ready. Let’s try to stay positive and do our best to enjoy the time we have with him, no matter how long that is.”
Tia leaned into her mother and wrapped her arms around her. Andrew got up and came over to the couch, sat down, and wrapped his arms around Tia’s from the other side. They sat like that, sharing the comfort of physical contact in a communal hug, for several minutes.
As they eased the embrace, Jenna looked from one cub to the other and said, “I want you to know how proud I am of both of you, and how proud your Dad would be. I’ve noticed that you haven’t been fussing as much lately, and the practical jokes have slowed to a trickle. You both made excellent scores on your placement tests, and with the exception of some minor bumps, you seem ready to settle in here just fine. I know we all miss your Dad, and always will, but I’m sure he’d be very pleased with how we’re doing. I don’t know what the future has in store for us, but I’m glad to be right here, right now, to face it with you.”
Both the younger tigers murmured low, “Thank you.”
“Cheer up, both of you. I don’t want to dwell on the bad and mope around. Tell you what, as soon as school is out, we’ll go visit Grandpa in West Virginia, and then go on a little vacation. I have to go out to the store, but when I get back, we’ll go online and check out some things. Be thinking of where you might like to go,” Jenna said.
“YAY!” both cubs shouted at once. They bolted off the couch and headed for their rooms to get a head start on searching for a good place to go. Jenna smiled and stood to go fetch her purse, her thoughts turning to the practical matter of a grocery list.
# # #
Billy Panelli had just walked into the office area at Executive Air at Charleston, West Virginia’s Yeager Airport. His plan was to pay his landing fee and arrange for fuel, and then check the weather. There was a cold front kicking up thunderstorms in Missouri and Illinois, and he wanted to check their eastward progress. Anton was supposed to meet him shortly, and then Billy was going to fly him to Findlay, Ohio to visit his uncle. The old tiger had been adamant about going, and the uncharacteristic rush had Billy concerned. As he stepped up to the counter, Billy greeted the female husky working there.
“Hello miss, I need to pay my landing fee and order some fuel,” he said, an amiable smile on his muzzle.
“Sure thing, sir,” the husky replied as she handed him a clipboard with a form on it, “here’s the landing form, and sign in on the log on the counter. Which aircraft and fuel?”
“The Aerostar, 100LL, top it off, please, both tanks,” Billy said as he wrote the tail number on the log. He checked off the fuel type on the order form and handed the forms and his credit card to the husky. She scanned and returned it, and Billy put it back in his wallet as he prepared to go to the flight planning room to look at the computer and call the FSS (Flight Service Station) to update his flight plan and weather briefing. As he turned he came face to face with a blue-eyed, familiar set of stripes.
“Hello Billy, ‘bout ready to go?” Anton asked, smiling.
Billy shook his head, grinning as he said, “Now I know where Alex gets that quiet manner from. How are you, Anton?”
Anton’s smile dimmed slightly as he said, “I’ll tell you on the way. I have to take some medicine so I won’t get sick on you. Will that give you time enough to be ready to go?”
“Sure, I’ll be ready,” Billy replied. Anton turned and walked back down the hallway to where the water fountain was while Billy went into the Flight Planning room and updated his weather and flight plan. They met back in the hallway and Billy picked up Anton’s overnight bag.
“This way Anton, the cabin in the Aerostar isn’t spacious, but we’ll get there in a hurry,” Billy said as they headed out the door to the aircraft parking ramp.
After a short stroll with a gentle south breeze stirring their fur, they arrived at Billy’s aircraft. The Aerostar was a speedy light twin engine aircraft, the fastest in its class. Billy’s sported a flashy red, white, and blue paint scheme. The fuel truck arrived at almost the same time they did, and Billy left Anton to stow his luggage while he supervised the fueling.
After the fuel fur finished, Billy made sure the fuel caps were on tight and then did a quick preflight check of the rest of the outside of the aircraft. He pulled the wheel chocks and tossed them behind the front seats as he climbed into the cockpit, which wasn’t always an easy fit for his 6’1” stocky frame. Anton was already settled into the left front seat, and Billy wriggled into the right seat and performed his preflight cockpit and instrument checks.
Billy called Yeager ground for clearance to taxi after starting the engines, and after receiving it, taxied to the end of the shorter Runway 33. He held there for final takeoff clearance, and then moved onto the runway when the tower cleared him for takeoff.
After announcing “Rolling” over the radio, Billy firewalled the throttles and the Aerostar sped down the runway and leaped into the air. In no time, they were nearing ten thousand feet and Billy leveled off, letting the speed of the Aerostar pull them to the northwest at a rapid clip.
As they steadied into cruise, Anton said, “This medicine for nausea isn’t supposed to make me sleepy, but I don’t want to take any chances. What I’m going to tell you is not to be told to Alex until I’m ready to tell him. Jenna, and probably the cubs by now, and Talia know, but no one else. I don’t want a big fuss made, but the doctors say I have stomach cancer. It’s spread to the surrounding organs, and is inoperable. I start Chemo the day after tomorrow, and I wanted to make this trip before then. I’m afraid it’ll make me too weak to travel.”
Billy for once was stunned into silence, both by the news and by the fact that Anton had spoken what was probably the longest sentence he had ever heard from him.
“Uh, all right, Anton. I won’t say anything to Alex until you’ve told him. Is there anything I can do?” Billy finally managed to say.
“Just bring Jenna and my grandcubs over to see me whenever you have time,” Anton replied.
Things began to get hectic as the day’s traffic increased across Ohio. Soon Billy was occupied with three 757’s and four commuter planes in his vicinity, and was too busy for much more conversation. As they approached Northwestern Ohio, Billy was glad they would be RONing, (Remaining OverNight) because he could see a solid line of thunderstorms about 100 miles to the West. His Stormscope (lightning detector) was lit up like the Fourth of July in that direction.
At twenty miles out, Billy signed off with Cleveland Center and contacted Toledo Approach Control to begin the process of letting down for his approach into Findlay. He had called in advance for tiedown space and fuel, and a rental car was supposed to be waiting for them when they landed. Anton had remained silent to allow Billy to concentrate on his flying. Billy looked quickly over at the older tiger, half expecting him to be asleep, but Anton was wide awake, looking intently at the storms in the distance.
Billy eased the Aerostar down towards Findlay, encountering some light turbulence as they got below four thousand feet. Findlay was an uncontrolled airport, so Billy called out his intentions over the Unicom (Universal Communication) frequency to let anyone in the area know what he was doing. Before long, the tires of the light twin squealed onto the runway and they taxied to the aircraft parking ramp. Billy slipped the Aerostar into the spot the ramp fur indicated and shut down the engines. The ramp fur quickly chocked the wheels as Billy got out and put on the control locks and tied the aircraft to the rings set in the concrete. He and Anton retrieved their bags and put them in the ramp truck. The older badger who was working as the ramp fur drove them to the FBO’s office. Billy went inside and completed the required paperwork while Anton stretched and retrieved their bags. Billy returned and they walked out to the parking area behind the building.
The rental car Billy had arranged was waiting for them, the keys in the paw of a lovely young raccoon. She handed Billy the keys with a smile after verifying his ID. She turned and strolled over to another sedan, got in with the boxer driving it, and pulled away.
Billy and Anton turned back toward the car and locked eyes. They both realized the other had stood and watched intently as the young lady walked to the car. They grinned at each other sheepishly.
“Yep, she was w-a-ay too young for either of us,” Billy said.
“I was admiring how nice her outfit looked, I don’t know what you were looking at,” Anton said with a wink. Billy laughed as they got in the car and headed North through the town of Findlay toward Van Buren and Anatol’s house.
After about thirty minutes of driving, Anton said, “His driveway should be just around this turn.”
“Good thing,” Billy replied, noting the dark sky and flashes of lightning off to their left, “Those storms are coming in fast. It’ll be pouring rain within fifteen minutes.”
They topped a low hill and saw the gravel drive to the right. Billy turned and they drove a short way through a screening of trees. They pulled up in front of a small, cozy house with wood accents and a decoration of carvings around the front porch. The two tigers got out and started for the porch. As they stepped up onto it, the front door opened and a tall, strong-looking older Siberian Tiger wearing jeans, suspenders, and a work shirt stepped out.
“Ah, Nephew! How good it is to see you!” the older tiger said, shaking paws and embracing Anton at the same time. Billy noted the trace of a Russian accent in the older tiger’s words. His voice could have been a carbon copy of Alex’s baritone otherwise. In appearance, Anton and the older tiger could have been twins but for the signs of aging in the older one. His hair was almost white, but his voice was strong and sure. He turned to Billy and Anton introduced them.
“Uncle, this is Billy Panelli, my son Alex’s friend and business partner. Billy, this is my uncle Anatol Altaisokova.”
As Billy shook paws, he noted Anatol’s were knotted and drawn with arthritis. Even so, the faint scent of freshly cut wood hung around the fur.
“I’m pleased to meet you, Billy. Alex is a fine young fur. If you are counted as his friend, you are always welcome here.” Anatol said with a warm smile.
“Thank you, Mr. Altaisokova. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Alex has always spoken very well of you,” Billy replied.
“Ah, so formal! Very polite, but I prefer Anatol, please,” the older tiger said.
“Anatol it is, then. Excuse me, but it looks like if I don’t get our bags out of the car now, I might drown trying later,” Billy said as he eyed the storm coming rapidly their way. He dodged off the porch and fetched their luggage just as the rain began to fall.
“Come on in and have a seat in the living room,” Anatol said, leading the way inside. “Just put those down anywhere, Billy”
Billy put the bags down out of what seemed to be the main traffic lane and Anatol indicated three cushioned chairs sitting around the front bay window.
“Sit, my friends, we can talk and watch the storm. I love thunderstorms, but my Lindi, ah, she didn’t like them so much,” the older tiger said.
They each took a seat as the rain began in earnest, punctuated by flashes of lightning and booming thunder. The trees were whipping around in a stiff wind as Anatol took up the conversation again.
“I see you look puzzled Billy. Lindi is what I called my wife Melinda.” Billy had been about to ask, but was glad he hadn’t. Anton had told him the older tiger was a widower.
Seeing the suddenly melancholy look on Anatol’s face, Anton said, “You miss her a lot, don’t you Uncle Anni?”
“Yes I do, Nephew. These three years since she’s been gone have been very lonely. Harder still since my arthritis has gotten bad and I can’t work the wood anymore.”
“Have you quit driving, too? I didn’t see a car when we pulled in.” Anton said.
“Yes I have. The doctor, and yes I went to one so don’t look so surprised, said my heart is getting bad, so it would be best not to drive. I sold the truck, and I have friends here who drive me or bring in whatever I need, so I don’t mind.”
Billy had been quietly sitting, watching the storm and only partially listening. Anatol noted his faraway expression.
“Ah, but we are boring you with our family talk, Billy,”
Billy started out of his reverie and looked at his two companions, saying, “No, I was just enjoying the rain. It reminds me of some of the storms we used to get back in Colorado where I grew up. Please, don’t let me interfere with your talk.”
Anton looked unsure, but Anatol winked and said, “Tell you what; there’s a pot of coffee brewed in the kitchen. Bring us all a cup and then you can tell us about Colorado. There are three cups out on the table waiting.”
Billy took the hint that Anatol wanted to talk to Anton alone, so he smiled and said, “Sure thing, be back in a few,” as he got up and walked in the direction Anatol pointed.
“Now Nephew,” Anatol said after Billy had gone through the door, “what I wanted to say to you is that the doctor said my heart was not doing good at all. He told me not to travel or get excited if I could help it. My grandchildren are busy with their lives, and I’ve given Brandy and Maxwell the things I wanted them to have, but Tonya hasn’t been to see me since just after Lindi passed on. She is so busy at her work that even Brandy and Maxwell don’t see much of her. The last time I talked to Brandy she said she and Tonya were a bit at odds.” Anatol sighed and went on. “Aye! Siblings! Anyway, what I wanted to say was that I have a package to give to Tonya, and I’d like you to deliver it to her when you have time. I don’t trust it to the mail.”
Anton thought of his own health problems, but decided not to tell Anatol about it, fearing it would hurt his weak heart. He should be able to do the task between chemo treatments, so he agreed.
“All right, Uncle, I’ll deliver it. Do you have her address?”
“Only her work address. I’ve misplaced her home address and phone number. Lindi always kept up with things like that,” Anatol replied.
Anton shrugged. Tonya’s place of business was well known in the town she lived in. He shouldn’t have a problem finding it. He’d arrange with Billy to fly him there sometime after his first chemo treatment.
As Billy brought the coffee in, the two relatives began to talk about memories and old times, visiting with each other. Billy listened politely, listening for anything he might tease Alex about in the future, commenting here and there where it seemed appropriate. He heard nothing he didn’t already know, and the time passed pleasantly. Outside, the storm passed on and the rain eased to a light shower and then ceased as evening settled in. Anatol had made a hearty stew, and along with some traditional Russian black bread, the three had a nice dinner. All three declined any after dinner drinks, and soon Anatol showed them to their beds and retired for the night.
Billy sat up for a while, reading some business paperwork he’d brought with him. His thoughts kept settling, though, on Anatol and Anton, uncle and nephew. Together it was easy to see why Alex had turned out so rock solid, with these two strong male influences in his life. It also made Billy wonder about Anatol’s daughter, who he’d heard them mention in quiet tones. Apparently she hadn’t married very well and had not been fairing so well.
“Oh well, no telling what happened there. Maybe one day I’ll ask Alex if we find ourselves talking about it.” Billy said to himself as he got into bed and turned out the light.
# # #
“Let’s see, milk. Got it,” Jenna said to herself as she checked off her list. “Eggs, check. Lunchmeat, check. Bread, potatoes, lettuce, tomatoes, carrots, canned soup, canned veggies, got ‘em all. What’s next?”
As she turned up the next aisle, Jenna growled low in her throat. She eyed the narrow space before her carefully, and then deftly slipped through the opening. With a sigh, she proceeded on her mission.
“I really wish they wouldn’t block up the aisles like that. I spend half my grocery shopping time trying to slip around parked carts,” She said to herself as she went on up the aisle.
“Let’s see, cereal. Ah, next row,” she said, speeding up and turning the corner.
There was a resounding crash and Jenna came to an abrupt halt. She looked up into a pair of golden eyes, round now with surprise. They belonged to a tall, strongly built gray wolf. The eyes relaxed into a gentle, warm expression accompanied by a smile.
“Oh, please excuse me, miss. Are you all right?” The wolf was now looking at her earnestly, ears up.
Breaking out of her shock, Jenna inexplicably felt a bit shy. She broke eye contact and looked down, but then looked back up at the wolf from under her eyelashes.
“Yes, I think so. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been rushing around so fast,” she said demurely.
“That’s quite all right. It’s nice to bump into a beautiful lady,” the wolf said, his tail beginning a slow wag behind him.
Jenna looked up sharply, her ears flipping forward. Several feelings at once battling inside her. She was warmed by the compliment, and impressed by the polite manner of the wolf, but she also felt a rush of guilt. She was a married tigress, after all. The thought then struck her that no, she wasn’t. Not anymore.
Unable to sort through so much at once, she settled for a polite, “Thank you,” followed quickly by, “Well, I must get going.”
The wolf nodded politely and moved aside, saying, “Oh please, don’t let me delay you.”
“See you around,” Jenna mumbled as she pushed her cart past him and on up the aisle.
“I certainly hope so,” the wolf said to himself as he watched her walk away. “I certainly hope so.”
# # #
“There,” Alex said to himself as he signed the last form. “Now, November Charlie Four Nine Nine, you’ll be a legal, civilian aircraft, right down to the speed waiver and aerobatic certification.”
He placed the thick bundle of forms in a large envelope, double-checked the address for it, and made sure he’d put enough postage on it for the trip from the AFPO (Armed Forces Post Office) terminal in New York to the FAA (Federal Aviation Administration) in Washington. He’d drop it by the base post office on his way home.
“Which should be soon,” he said to himself. He had no flights scheduled for the next few days, and then only an orientation flight for his replacement. Alex was down to just a couple of weeks until he would start his out processing.
He was just about to get up and get his coat and hat, intent on leaving on time for once, when a knock came on his door.
“Come,” he said, hoping this wouldn’t be some last-minute task that would delay him.
Col. Higgins opened the door and stepped in, and Alex came to attention. The lion looked at him gravely as he walked across the room.
“At ease, Alex, have a seat,” Col. Higgins said as he stopped in front of Alex’s desk.
Alex sat down, puzzled, and said, “Okay Boss, what’s up?”
Col. Higgins looked troubled, with a frown on his face and his tail doing an uneasy, agitated flip back and forth behind him.
“Alex,” he began, and then stopped and took a breath before restarting. “First of all, I don’t want any flying staplers, understand?”
Alex looked carefully at the lion, bracing himself for bad news. “All right,” he said as he placed his paws flat on the desk, “No office equipment launches. Now, what’s wrong?”
His CO looked as though he’d rather be feeding his tail into a jet engine than say what was on his mind. With a sigh he said, “Lieutenant Colonel O’Whitt, I have some bad news. Your orders to Test Pilot School have been cancelled.”
Alex’s jaw dropped, and he sat stunned for several seconds. Finally he said, “Please tell me that was a joke.”
Col. Higgins was shaking his head, a very sad expression on his face.
“I wish I were. The message came in this afternoon, just after lunch, and I’ve been on the phone, trying to get some answers, until just now.”
Alex’s heart was in his feet. He swallowed, caught between rage and disappointment, and finally managed to say, “Go on, sir, tell me what you found out.”
Col. Higgins noted the battle of expressions playing across Alex’s face, and the way his tail was rapidly flipping back and forth. He would have to choose his words carefully to keep from pushing his friend into an outburst of anger and frustration. He pulled a chair up and sat down facing his friend.
“I called a friend in personnel,” the lion began neutrally, “He said the order for cancellation came from the school commander. I called him and he wouldn’t take the call. However the admin fur who works for him was in my unit at Nellis. She talked to me, off the record, and told me that General Forsham issued the order a couple of days ago. She also said he sent the order out a short time after receiving a phone call from an officer in South Carolina.”
Alex looked sharply at his CO, who said in a gentle voice, “I know, Alex. Yes, it was Mastifson, and no, there’s nothing to be done about it now. General Forsham has total authority over the school and somehow Mastifson convinced him you were a bad risk. He won’t even talk to me, so I don’t have any way of convincing him otherwise. I thanked the NCO and called back to my friend in personnel. Mastifson made his move while you were on that seventy two hour safety hold after Rings ejected. Must’ve told the General that you were a safety risk. Your record’s clear, but if the General won’t listen, there’s nothing we can do. I’m very sorry, I tried my best.”
Alex noted the sadness in Col. Higgins voice, and put aside his feelings for a moment.
“Ah, I know you did, Scatcat. Thank you for at least finding out what happened. I’ll wait him out. Both Mastifson and General Forsham will move on in a year or so, and then I’ll reapply for it. It’ll . . .” Alex stopped abruptly, seeing that Col. Higgins was now slowly shaking his head.
“What, there’s more?”
“I’m afraid so. My friend in personnel said that General Mastifson or someone from his office had called there and talked to their CO yesterday. He overheard the conversation. The General wanted to call for a records review, to see whether or not you should be allowed to continue in service past your current ETS (Estimated Time of Seperation). Made mention of unsafe flying, unfit for service, fraternization, and conduct unbecoming an officer. In short, Alex, he’s gunning for you. My friend said he’d stall the request, which has to come across his desk. He also said that if you file your paperwork for retirement now, you would retire honorably and they couldn’t do anything about it. The CO there looked over your records, and he didn’t see anything to justify General Mastifson’s request, but he thinks it’s only a matter of time until the General starts exerting some pressure or another of Mastifson’s contacts gem up something to try to nail you with. If they do, it’ll be a huge mess, possibly ending in you being forced out, messing up your pension and benefits, and smearing your name. They could also keep you out of the reserves if you wanted to keep a paw in on military flying.”
Alex started to make an angry comment, but Scatcat cut him off as he continued. “Even if you win, Mastifson can make your life a living hell. He has a lot of pull when he starts bandying his uncle’s name around at the Pentagon. You would have no promotion and very crappy assignments to look forward to.
Alex growled low in his throat as anger flared in his eyes. He realized he was in no shape to decide anything right now.
“Bart, you know me, that I’d prefer to fight this tooth and claw. I don’t want to leave the service, but I need time to think. I’m too angry to make any kind of rational decision right now.”
“I understand, Alex. I need your answer tomorrow morning, though, so we can get Mrs. Stiener to either start getting the paperwork together for your defense, or start faxing your paperwork for retirement.”
Alex merely nodded, already starting to work his anger out in his mind. A good run after he got home would help.
“While you’re thinking, here’s something positive to think about,” Scatcat said, trying to make sure Alex was all right, “I’m going to be taking command of the 18th Fighter Wing at Langely a little earlier than I thought. The General there had to move into his new slot early, so I’ll be leaving about a month early, close to the same time as you.”
Alex looked questioningly at his CO, saying, “I thought my assignment was cancelled?”
“It was, but your replacement is already here, so you’ll be going somewhere stateside, if you take retirement, so they can out process you. My point is, though, that I just found out I’ll be needing a squadron commander for the 412th FIS (Fighter Interceptor Squadron). Their CO just got killed in a car wreck. I need a good, solid officer to take command of that unit until their new CO comes in on regular rotation. That just happens to coincide well with your retirement date.”
Alex paused in his angry thoughts. His own unit?
“But that would only be for six months,” he said dubiously.
“True. But it would give you a command of your own. Might help if you go into the reserves or guard,” Scatcat said, relieved that Alex was at least thinking about the possibilities. He stood up, preparing to leave, and Alex stood also.
“Alex, think it over carefully. I know it rubs you the wrong way, and that you probably think Mastifson wins if you don’t fight, but think about this. He already cost you your brother, and now TPS and NASA. Do you want to give him your good name and reputation, too? He’s a conniving idiot, and he’s managed to use the Air Force to get his way so far, but the service has a way of eventually rooting out his kind. When he falls, it will be hard, and he may take his uncle with him. Do you want to go down with him, too?”
With that, the lion turned and walked out without a backward glance. Alex could appreciate the situation and how hard it must have been on his friend. He would think over his options, maybe call his father before he came to work in the morning, but now he needed to find a way to burn off the rage he felt. He grabbed the paperwork he needed to mail, his hat and jacket, and walked out of the building. He got in the Gray Ghost, as he now called the old BMW, and drove to the base post office. After mailing his package, Alex made a quick stop at his room to change clothes. He then went to the long running trail that wound around the back side of the base.
After stretching out and warming up with a short kata routine, Alex started running. The air felt good and the trail solid as he pounded along the hard-packed earthen trail. He couldn’t relax, though, as thought after thought flooded his mind as he let his body mechanically run. Thoughts of his hopes and dreams, now seemingly dashed. Thoughts of Jason, gone now, and the guilty feeling that still haunted the back of his consciousness. His anger seemed to build rather than dissipate.
As his thoughts swirled, Alex ran faster and faster, his tail whipping around in a circular pattern to help him maintain his balance through the turns and dodges along the trail. He was breathing hard now, his heart pounding. All of the thoughts and feelings seemed to coalesce in his vision into one snarling, smug face. Mastifson! Just thinking the name caused Alex to let out a loud roar of frustration and anger. He was running full out now, and the speed began to take its physical toll. His legs began to burn and feel leaden.
As he rounded a turn, Alex came to a familiar place on the trail. Had he really run three miles already? The old tree along the trail there bore the scars of innumerable passing paws. Alex had finally had too much, and his emotions overwhelmed him. He leaped upon the huge old pine, tearing and ripping at it as he vented his rage and pain. With a final, thunderous ROAR, Alex collapsed against the tree, his claws still stuck in the wood, his breathing ragged.
How long he lay like that, he wasn’t sure. As the emotions drained away, exhaustion from his extreme physical exertion caused his eyes to close. He dozed fitfully, floating between sleep and half- wakefulness.
Alex found himself walking in a thick fog. He could hear echoes and sounds, but he couldn’t seem to locate their origin. Suddenly a spot in front of him cleared, and he saw Jason standing there.
“Jason!” Alex called, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t able to prevent you getting killed. I wasn’t able to take your place.’
“As you should be!” the apparition said, “You let me die. You could’ve told me not to become a pilot, or not to fly fighters. You let my wife become a widow, my children fatherless. Worst of all, you haven’t avenged my death on the one who caused it! Now you’re letting him screw you over, too! What are you, a tiger or a whimpering kali pup? Will you fight, or roll over and let Mastifson trample you?”
At the mention of his name, Mastifson’s face appeared in the fog, huge and leering, laughing and taunting Alex.
“Yas, why don’t you come and get me? Are you afraid? Will you just let me have my way?”
The face had grown immense, while Jason faded into the background with a final, “Will you avenge me-e-e?”
Alex tried to step back from Mastifson’s grinning face, but he seemed to trip, spinning and landing roughly on his chest. The face loomed over him, the insane laughter growing louder and louder until Alex could hear nothing else.
Finally, he cried out, “Lord, help me! What do I do? I’m lost! My enemies are laughing at me! What do I do?
There was a sudden breeze, and the fog lifted slightly. The laughter and the leering face seemed to be blown away on it. A soft, suffused light settled around Alex. He tried to look up, but couldn’t manage to lift his head.
A quiet, gentle voice, so soft he had to strain to hear it, said, “Alex, be still. I am with you. You have suffered, and there is yet more suffering to come. Be strong, I am here. Look up.”
Alex found he could raise his head now, and he looked up to see the apparition of Jason shift and twist, changing and dissipating like the fog. He knew then that the vision wasn’t real.
“That wasn’t Jason, it was my own rage, trying to trick me,” he said softly.
“It was the evil one, trying to use your rage to trick you,” the quiet voice said. “The face was your wounded pride. You have a choice to make now, Alex. I am allowing one door to close to you, but others remain open. You must choose your path. There is pain ahead, and more sorrow, but do what you know is right, and there will also be great joy and love. You know my ways and commands, and you also know the ways of the world. Follow my ways. You must choose, Alex.” The voice began to change and fade, only to get stronger again, the light becoming brighter.
“Alex. Alex? ALEX!”
Alex startled awake and blinked at the flashlight beam in his eyes. He was laying face down beside the pine tree, and someone was roughly shaking him. He looked up into the eerily lit face of Bart Higgins.
“Geez, Bart, don’t scare me like that! What a sight to wake up to,” Alex mumbled as he tried to get his bearings.
“Very funny. You always a comedian when your friends find you passed out on the running trail? What happened?” Bart replied.
Alex eased himself over and sat up. He checked each joint and muscle group for movement and damage, and found his legs and stomach sore and a couple of his claws torn, but otherwise no apparent damage.
“Ran too hard, I think,” Alex said after a moment. “I stopped here, and I think I fell asleep.”
Bart looked at the pine tree, noting the long, deep gouges in the bark. He then looked at Alex’s paws and saw the shreds of bark still stuck in the claws.
Looking back into Alex’s face, he said, “I think I’ll just write this one off as a nap after a long, hard day. Otherwise I’d have to have you report to the Flight Surgeon to get checked out. You ready to walk?”
Alex smiled a little, grateful that his friend understood without him having to explain it. He got to his feet, made sure he was stable, and set off with Bart walking beside him.
“How’d you find me?” Alex asked, becoming steadier in his gait as they went.
“I was driving by on the way home and saw your car parked at the start of the trail. I noted the time and figured you were either in trouble out here somewhere or having a hot date,” Scatcat replied. Alex looked at him sharply and could see the lion grinning. Alex just shook his head and grinned back as they walked on.
After a few moments of silence, Bart said, “Alex, please consider my offer carefully. I could really use you in that unit, and if you choose the reserves, it’ll be easier for me to pull for you to get a drill slot at Langely. In the guard, you’d probably have to try and finagle a slot in a state where furs have been in line for years, waiting for a command slot. In the reserves, you’ll come in and mostly just fly. I know you, Alex. If you retire, you’ll be up to your ears in your business inside of a year. You can’t just be casually involved in what you do. Think it over well tonight.”
Alex merely nodded as they walked on toward their cars.
END OF CHAPTER 10