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 2003-2018 unless
otherwise noted. Request permission before using them, please.
The characters
of Anatol Altaisokova and Melinda Altaisokova
are my names for characters © Max Blackrabbit. They
appear in this story with his permission. The characters of Brandy, Maxwell,
Tonya and Zig Zag are also © Max Blackrabbit and
appear here with his permission. Events and information relating to Tonya,
Anatol, and their family are presented here, but are not to be considered canon
to those characters or any other story but this one. ZZ Studios, and all
characters associated with ZZ Studios, James Sheppard, and Marvin Badger © James
Bruner and appear here with his permission.
Although characters from and events referring to Zig Zag the Story
appear here, this story is not canon to that one, and the author will disavow
any knowledge of this story. Wanda Vixen © Chris Yost and appears here with his
permission. Sabrina Mustidalae © Eric W. Schwartz and
appears here with his permission. This story is not canon to Sabrina Online the
comic, or Sabrina Online the Story, either. Matt Barstock,
Angie Rockwell, Intermountain Charter, The Bitch, and her crew, and Jerry Kitt
© Silver Coyote. See their story HERE. Gail Rutherford © me and is not canon to any
other story involving ZZ Studios. Gabrielle Ryder and Jean LeBrun
© Aslaug, from her Transitions stories. See them at her site, The Axe Shed,
available from the links page. Aramis Dagaz is© his
player and appears here with his permission.
Author’s Note:
Lewiston, Maine’s airport, identifier KLEW, is actually
uncontrolled. That is, it has no control tower. Poetic license was used
for this story, so Alex and company talk with a control tower whilst aviating
there.
Chapter
110
First
Jefferson Mastifson smiled to himself. It was late Saturday night,
and he’d flown to Charlotte, North Carolina to get away for the weekend. He’d
eaten lunch, taken a walk in a park just to enjoy the Fall colors, and even met
up with a leopard femme who went by the name of Patricia. They’d actually had dessert before dinner, and then she’d politely
been on her way.
Now, he had a new
target. One who’d triggered the flames in him when she’d walked by on the
street. Her skirt was short and tight. Her top, low cut and revealing. She was
a felid. White fur, with grey and black tabby patches enough to resemble
stripes and cause a reaction.
The Rottweiler had
followed her a short distance, watching her discretely in case she was meeting
a lover. In his mind, he was watching, learning. Seeing how the femme moved.
The felid glanced back, now looking a bit nervous. She walked on, heading for a
certain club now about three blocks away. Twice more she looked back to see a
figure walking unhurriedly along behind her. A block from her destination, she
looked back again to see…nothing! The fur who’d been following her was gone
without a trace. Breathing a sigh of relief, she turned to go on.
She nearly ran
into a rottweiler who was apparently coming the other way. She just managed to
stifle a scream. The canid looked surprised.
“Oh! Please pardon
me, Miss. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
The felid put a
paw to her chest, taking a deep breath.
“It’s…it’s okay,
you just startled me. There was someone following me, I think, but they’re gone
now.”
Mastifson tipped his head. “It isn’t safe to be out alone.
Are you close to where you’re going?”
“Uh, yes, the club
just up there.” The femme was still very nervous after nearly running into the
canid.
“Well, then, be
careful. Have a good night.” He stepped around her and walked on. The femme
quickly recovered and hurried on to meet her friends at the club. She would
certainly have a scary story to tell. Mastifson
growl-chuckled to himself. Too easy, really. A quick cut through an alley and
around the block, and he’d come out just ahead of the femme. By the time she’d
turned around, he could have quickly overcome and silenced her.
This had been a
trial run. A learning experience. He would need to
plan and think through every aspect of what he was going to do. Each step would
lead him closer to his target. As he’d said before, patience was the best
hunter.
# # #
It had been two
weeks, and things had been going at a furious pace for Helipro.
The building was done, and Corrie and Kath had moved in full time. Billy was
sharing time between Helipro and Kentiger,
as was Rich. Now, Corrie and Alex were on a commercial flight to Dallas Love
Field to pick up the first helicopter, a blue and silver Bell 206B Jetranger set up for VIP transport.
“Love, I have a
duty weekend coming up soon. Would you like to come along? When I’m off for the
day, we can see if Tasha and Jon are up for a double date?”
Corrie indicated
the resumés on her lap tray she was working through.
“Depends on how
many of these I have to check. Kath is doing a bonzah
job of sorting out the bad ones or the ones who don’t meet the quals or
otherwise aren’t what we’re looking for. Then I have to slog through them and
try to sort out which ones we want to interview.”
Alex grinned.
“Yep, I’ve watched your expressions. There’ve been a few really bad ones, I’d
guess.”
Corrie made a
face. “Pah! You know it! One even claimed to have
worked at Old North in the past, during the yeahs I
was theah, and I’ve nevah
heard of him before.”
The tiger nodded.
“We went through that a lot in this last hiring session.”
They were
fortunate to have just the two of them in the row, as the seat beside Corrie
was empty. It was only about fifteen minutes now before they landed, so Corrie
began to put the resumés back in her satchel. They’d taken an early flight and
planned to be back in Lexington by tomorrow afternoon.
“Fred called
yesterday evening. He and the seller finally settled on a price. I’ll be
picking up our MD-520N on Wednesday,” Alex told her as they prepared for the
flight to end.
“Bonzah! How’s Jack coming along with the pad and the hangah?” Corrie asked, her eyes now alight with interest
and excitement.
“Excavation and
foundation work is done. The pad, floor, and driveway concrete will get poured
by the weekend. The building will take a month, but the utilities are in place
to be connected. By mid-December, we’ll be able to park our chopper there.”
“I want to come
along and help you bring it home. You going to let Allaistor’s
guys look it over too?” Corrie inquired, enjoying the conversation.
“I wouldn’t want
to hear what he’d say if I didn’t,” Alex replied. Just then, the intercom chimed,
and the captain announced their approach into Dallas Love.
“Ladies and Gentlefurs, we’re beginning our approach into Dallas. It’s
seventy-eight degrees and sunny, looks to be a lovely day. Thank you for flying
with us. Flight attendants, please prepare the cabin for arrival.”
Corrie put her
satchel under the seat and she and Alex made sure their seats were up and their
belts tight. The approach and landing were very routine. They queued up with
the other passengers and got off the plane with their overnight bags. They each
had a satchel of work, Alex paperwork for Kentiger,
Corrie the resumés and paperwork for the bird’s change of paws Fred had
provided.
They caught a taxi
over to the corporate side of the field, and soon walked into the offices of Landstar
Aviation, a brokerage and aircraft sales company. There, they met up with a
tall prairie dog male with clothes and an accent straight out of a Western movie.
“Howdy Ma’am,
Mister, I’m Ed Redwing, pleased ta meetcha. Have y’all got all th’ papers ol’ Fred had ya sign?”
Corrie returned in
kind. “G’day Ed, I’m Corrie and this is Alex, with Helipro. Yeah, all signed and ready. If you’ll lead us to
the bird, we’ll staht ouah
inspection.”
Ed gawped at her a
moment. “Thet Ma’am, is a most beyootiful
accent.”
“Yours isn’t bad eithah. Oh, and did I mention this is me fiancé?” Corrie
replied sweetly.
Alex merely smiled
and offered a paw. “Ed, nice to meet you.”
Ed actually went wide-eyed and almost ducked. “Ah, you too, Pardner. No offence ta you or yer
lady. I wuz jest overcome by how nice she sounded.”
As they shook
paws, Alex gave a nod. “No problem, it is a really lovely accent. Shall we get
on with business?”
“Yeap, good idea. Raht this way,”
Ed took the lead out into the hangar and up to a very nicely kept up and
pristine-looking Bell Jetranger, blue with silver
stripes and accents.
“This here’s th’ one. It’s sittin’ on a set o’
ground wheels, which go along with it,” the prairie dog began.
“Good. We’ll have
a power cart at Helipro for it and ouah othah birds, but it isn’t in
yet. Ouah maintenance contractah
has one already,” Corrie stated.
“Good. It’s a nice
day, would ya like to roll ‘er
out in th’ sunshine so we can see ‘er better?” Ed asked.
“Shuah,” Corrie replied. Ed nodded and walked over and
pushed a button to open the hangar doors. Then he and Alex maneuvered the
helicopter on its removable wheels out onto the ramp. Alex connected a grounding
line and he and Corrie began the inspection. With the lioness in the lead, they
made sure all the paperwork and serial numbers matched, the engine and airframe
logbooks were all up to date, and then began the physical inspection of every
part of the helicopter. They were checking for leaks, loose fasteners or wires,
un-noted damage, or excessive wear. They checked fluid levels, the rotor hub
and blades, and all power and control linkages. Satisfied there, Corrie sat in
the right seat and turned on the main switch. She went through all the
instruments and electronics. Alex checked the comm, power, and entertainment
systems for the passenger’s seats. Satisfied there, Corrie got out and they
undid the ground wheels and rotor tiedowns. They had the aircraft fueled and
Alex and Corrie signed and initialed the inspection. Last thing was an
acceptance flight.
Alex climbed in
the left seat and buckled in while Corrie finished pre-flighting the aircraft.
She then climbed into the right seat and got things started. They lifted up and contacted ground control for taxi permission,
and then hover-taxied out. The Jetranger performed
well, and the takeoff was smooth. They headed West out over open country, where
Corrie put the helicopter through a series of checks and maneuvers, and at the
end declared herself satisfied.
“She’s a gun ride,
Alex. If the othah two are this ready to go, we’ll be
operational in Decembah.”
Alex just grinned,
very happy the business was going so well. They landed back at Love Field and
did a final sign-off, filed their flight plan, and departed. The flight back to
Lexington would take several hours and refuelings,
including an overnight stop at North Little Rock and a stop at McKellar-Sipes
Regional at Jackson, Tennessee. They would stay at six thousand feet or below,
so it would be a scenic ride. The weather stayed Indian Summer nice, and just
at dusk they landed at North Little Rock Municipal Airport. They went ahead and
refueled, and then tied down for the night. They caught a cab to dinner, and
then on to their hotel.
“After what
happened after our last date at Rip’s, I thought two rooms would be better,”
Alex stated as they checked in.
“Yeah, I think
you’re probably right,” Corrie agreed. They kissed goodnight and went to their
separate rooms, eager to get back in the air the next morning and get their new
acquisition back to Kentucky.
# # #
The next day, just
before noon, Billy, Penny, Kath, Rich, Loni, and
Duncan had all gathered at Helipro’s building to
greet the arrival of the business’s first aircraft. The local newspaper and TV
station had decided this was a good story to cover and had interviewed Billy at
length. Billy had a radio tuned to the tower frequency, and at 1155 they heard
Corrie’s distinct accent call in.
“Bluegrass Towah, Novembah Five Two Two Six Chahlie is a Bell Jetrangah five North inbound for Runway Two Two and the Heliport.”
“Two Six Charlie,
Tower has you in sight. No traffic, you are cleared direct to the Heliport.
Winds two two zero at seven, gusting fourteen,
altimeter two niner eight four,” the tower
immediately replied.
“Copy cleahed direct to the Heliport, Two Six Chahlie.”
The TV reporter, a
young tabby felid, brown and black, looked at Billy with questioning golden
eyes.
“Mr. Panelli is your pilot an immigrant?”
“She’s my business
partner and she’s Australian by birth, why?” Billy returned the questioning
look.
“Well, with all
the feelings about immigrants taking American jobs, and that being such a hot
topic lately…” the reporter trailed off, leaving her implication without
stating her exact meaning.
Billy was having
none of it. “Corrinne Patterson is my business partner and a naturalized U.S.
citizen. She came to the U.S. when her parents legally immigrated when she was
seventeen. The main point here is that she’s an excellent helicopter pilot and businessfur. Period!”
“Oh, yes sir,
absolutely,” the felid stammered.
Any other
commentary was drowned out as Corrie brought the Jetranger
in from the direction of the end of Runway Two Two.
She was still a good fifty feet off the ground, clearing buildings, taxiways,
and parked aircraft easily. The nose came up and the rotor began to bite the
air, slowing the forward speed as they dropped to a hover about twenty feet off
the helipad.
“Looks like quite
a reception,” Alex stated over the headsets.
“Yeah, think I’ll
give ‘em a look before we settle,” Corrie replied.
Keeping a
perfectly level hover, even in the slightly gusty conditions, Corrie did a slow
pirouette before deftly settling into a gentle landing. She couldn’t hear the
animated discussion she was seeing between Billy and a tabby felid femme. She
shut down the engine and engaged the rotor brake after it had stopped. Then she
turned everything off and she and Alex got out. She walked over to Billy as
Alex started for Bluegrass to tell Allaistor they had
the bird on the pad for his crews to take. He’d only gone a couple of steps
when he saw the bulldog and two techs bringing their power cart over to get the
helicopter and take it to Bluegrass’ hangar.
Corrie noted as
she walked up that Billy looked a bit miffed. She put on a smile and spoke,
noting the TV camera filming the scene.
“Here we are,
Billy, ouah first aircraft. She’s a beautiful Bell
206B Jetrangah with room for four passengahs
in smooth comfort. She can take them to any destination within a hundred miles
and back, no airstrip needed.”
She’d put in a
quick plug for the aircraft, figuring free publicity would only help. Her face
turned neutral as she heard the tabby’s question.
“Miss Patterson,
why did you immigrate to the United States?” The tabby, a reporter as Corrie
could now see, was trying to appear innocently curious.
“Why did you?”
Corrie asked in reply. The reporter looked huffy.
“I was born here.”
“How fah beck?”
the lioness inquired, her accent getting a little thicker.
“Uh, I don’t know.
My family has—”
Corrie cut her
off. “Oh no, mate. You being a tabby femme, youah ancestors didn’t come heah
until the sixteen hundreds or latah. My family came
from Africer to Australia in 1912. Me fahthah moved my mum and me heah
when I was seventeen. He was an engineeah and worked
at Bath Shipyahds on everything from tugboats to
submarines for the U.S. Navy. I’ve been a naturalized citizen since you were
likely in grade school. This business, this is my American dream. I may have an
accent, but I’m as American as anybody heah!”
The reporter
signaled for the camerafur to cut. He kept right on
filming until Corrie finished. She looked at Corrie, and then Billy, and then
stormed off. The camerafur looked at them and
grinned, flashed them a thumbs-up, and followed. The newspaper reporter had
snapped a couple of pictures of the helicopter landing and Corrie as she spoke,
and then also left.
Corrie turned to
Billy just as Alex, Allaistor, and the two Bluegrass
techs walked up.
“Nice!” was all Allaistor said as he indicated for the two techs to get the
helicopter rigged to the power cart. Corrie tossed him the keys. He grinned at
her and, after Alex and Corrie retrieved their things, got the techs started on
moving the chopper down to Bluegrass. Now, Corrie finally got the chance to
speak.
“Billy, what the
bloody, er, heck was that all about?”
Billy sighed
gruffly. “Young, hungry local reporter hears foreign accent on radio, starts
jumping to conclusions and chasing theories. Thinks because immigration is
becoming a hot issue any immigrant would be suspect and a story. You did a
masterful job of putting her in her place, if they even show that part.”
Corrie did not
look happy. Bad press was the last thing they needed. Finally, she seemed to
calm down, and then she shrugged.
“Can’t be helped,
I suppose. Hello Penny, Kath, Rich.”
Loni and Duncan had headed back to Kentiger right after Corrie and Alex landed. Penny came
forward and hugged the lioness.
“Thank you,
Corrie, for that speech.”
Corrie again just
shrugged. “Truth is truth.”
Kath and Rich
waved hello and then headed off to work. Alex stepped up to join the
conversation.
“Was that Janie
Barrett, the reporter for KLEX?”
“Yeah,” Billy
replied. “That was her. She was about like normal.”
Corrie arched an
eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
Alex huffed.
“She’s a local interest reporter, but she’s always trying to tie her stories in
to the national news. It can get downright funny, because a lot of the, ah,
plain folk around here shoot her out of the saddle on a regular basis.”
“Corrie certainly
did that,” Billy said with a grin. They all nodded. With a final shrug, Corrie
turned to business.
“Well Billy, one
down, two to go.”
“Yep. Fred called,
birds two and three will be ready on Friday and Monday, and they’re both within
a day’s flight time, so no more overnighters.”
“Good,” Alex said.
“Because Corrie and I will be out tomorrow getting our chopper. It’s in
Montgomery, Alabama, so it’s also a one-day trip.”
“Sheesh,” Corrie
added. “No rest for the weary.”
“True,” Billy
added. “And we start interviews on Tuesday. Provided you’re done with the
resumés, Corrie.”
“Got four left.
I’ll be done by tomorrow,” she replied.
Billy gave a tilt
of his head, and then by mutual nod of agreement they all headed inside to get
ready to go to lunch. Helipro had started out with
the proverbial bang.
# # #
Aramis was going
through the reports on the surveillance of Jefferson Mastifson
the Third. All was still quiet and routine. All his emails were business
related, and his calls and texts were either business or whatever femme he
hooked up with for the night. Even that had become routine. He’d fly to
whatever city, cruise the bars and clubs for a hookup, and by the next morning
they’d be gone, either by mutual consent or his insistence.
There was now a
report on his internet searches and activity, as the latest technology made
that info available. As the felid agent looked at that, something jumped out at
him. He was puzzling over that when Chief Agent Perez walked by the entrance to
his cubicle and noticed his expression.
“Something up,
Aramis?” the Great Dane inquired, stepping into the cubicle.
Aramis looked up,
still puzzled. “I don’t know. Possible.”
“What have you
got?” Perez asked.
“It’s the Rotten Rotty case. Everything still looks routine, but something
is telling me something is off about his internet activity.”
“Show me,” the
Great Dane said, stepping around the desk to look over Aramis’ shoulder.
“Here’s his work
internet activity. All fairly even and normal, but
here’s his home activity. It goes along fine to here, then goes silent, then
picks back up again here.”
Perez blinked.
He’d just recently gone to a class on the latest surveillance tech
capabilities. Only two things would cause a gap like that.
“Aramis, he either
had his internet disconnected or off there, or he’s using a browser that
doesn’t record or report his searches and history. There are a couple of those
out there, as folks become more and more concerned with their privacy.”
Aramis looked at
the time stamp. “This was last week. So, why did he go back to using a regular
browser?”
Perez looked
puzzled, too. “Good question. After all we’ve seen from him, anything is
possible. Anything show up in his bank or credit card activity?
Aramis flipped a
couple of pages and read a moment before answering. “No, not really. He’s
pulled a little more cash for his out-of-town booty runs, but fuel prices are
up, so nothing really telling there.”
Perez nodded, and
then turned to go. “Keep after it. I kind of have a bad feeling about this one,
and it’s getting worse.”
“Me too, sir. Me, too,”
Aramis replied as he went back to work.
End
of Chapter 110