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 94
Where?
Monday morning saw Alex catching a ride in with Jenna to her work. There he was going to meet up with Billy and ride over to Kentiger to meet up with his flight. He’d decided to leave his truck at home so as not to make it look so much like no one was there. Tia had chatted away at him until Jenna dropped her at school. Andrew had greeted him, but then sank into a paw-held video game.
“So, Alex,” Jenna began after both cubs were off to school. “What are you going to tell Corrie about Natasha?”
The tiger noted his sister-in-law giving him a sidelong speculative look. “Already told her. She wants the full story but there’s no issue about her. Tasha and I decided long ago that we were friends only. Corrie shouldn’t have any more trouble with her than she does you.”
Jenna gave a sharp glance, only to see Alex giving her a look as well. That told her that in his mind, there was no problem. She let the matter drop.
“How long do you plan to be gone?” she inquired.
“At least to the weekend. It’s a two-day drive even if we don’t stop and sightsee a lot,” he replied.
They lapsed into companionable silence as the traffic was demanding more of Jenna’s attention. Before long they arrived and found Penny and Billy waiting in the parking lot for them.
“Morning Jenna. Alex, have a great trip!” Penny said as she gave Alex a hug. She then ushered Jenna inside.
“C’mon Jenna, Jeremy wants us at work on the new add for Bearton Tire ASAP!”
Billy just shook his head. “Ah, let’s go partner. Their boss called while we were driving in, all excited about an add idea. We need to get you headed for Maine. By the way, no more government agent damsels in distress, okay? You darn near gave everyone heart failure.”
Alex nodded. “I’ll agree to that. It wasn’t exactly fun on my end, either.”
Billy clapped him on the shoulder. “No, I suppose not. Oh, did I tell you I got in touch with Kathleen Killian? She’s coming in today at nine to start work as our admin for Helipro.”
Alex looked askance as they got in Billy’s car and started out.
“Say what now? You mean the young collie femme from Shaw? Yea tall, cute, with a nice tail?”
Billy snickered. “Yep. She left a resumé as a way of letting us know she’s in the area. Loni checked her out, and she seems like just what we need for our admin and dispatcher. She also said Rich Farraday had shown a pretty keen eye toward the femme when she stopped by, so I may have him show her the good lunch spots nearby.”
“Billy Panelli,” Alex mock-chided. “You can’t matchmake for me anymore, so now you start in on poor Rich.”
“What?” Billy replied, trying to look innocent and failing miserably.
“Yeah, whatever. Just drive the car,” Alex teased.
They laughed and continued to chat. Soon they arrived at Kentiger and went inside. Loni greeted them, but she was busy booking a flight. Billy said goodbye and headed for his office, so Alex walked on out to the flight he would take, carrying the large duffel bag he’d packed for the trip.
Dieter Katz and Sarah Dunn were busy prepping the Beechcraft Starship they were flying today. The sleek, twin-turboprop, canard-wing aircraft looked good even sitting still.
“Good morning, Colonel,” Sarah called from the aircraft door. “Come on aboard. Dieter is still preflighting.”
Alex smiled and walked up the door stairs and into the aircraft, finding a seat right behind the cockpit. Sarah continued, taking Alex’s duffle and putting it in the luggage area in the back of the passenger compartment. She then continued as she passed on the way to the cockpit.
“We have three pax to pick up in Ashville, North Carolina, and then we’ll be on our way to Portland. We should be starting engines in about ten minutes.”
“Sounds good, Sarah,” Alex replied. In about five minutes, Dieter came aboard.
“Hello Alex, welcome, Cloudy along the East Coast, but it should be clear by the time we get to Portland. Ask if you need anything.”
“Thanks Dieter, I’m all set,” Alex replied.
The Manx smiled and went on into the cockpit after closing the aircraft door. A few minutes later, the engines started and came up to speed. As they began to taxi, Alex relaxed, looking forward to seeing his lady love.
# # #
Jefferson Mastifson had come into work a little later than usual. He’d flown to Little Rock, Arkansas Saturday morning and found, of all things, a lapine doe who was adventurous and a bit dominating. She’d kept him not only occupied but interested and entertained until late on Sunday. He’d flown home, getting in past midnight, and had nearly overslept his alarm. He was still a bit groggy as he looked out over the ramp.
His thoughts turned to the AFOSI agent, Andy Denver. Jefferson knew the agent would never get anything to stick. He’d covered his tracks too well, using only trusted contacts. That brought him to his black book. So what if most of them were gone now? He needed to make new contacts within the FAA anyway. He snorted in derision at the agent’s feeble attempts. It was time to move on.
Motion caught the corner of his eye over toward the Kentiger ramp. He picked up his binoculars and looked. He could have sworn he saw a flash of white, but as he looked, all he saw was a…Beech Starship? Yes, that’s what it was, being prepped for flight by a calico femme in a pilot’s uniform, who was in the door of the now-rare executive aircraft. A Manx male, also in a pilot’s uniform, was working his way around the nose doing the preflight. All standard things at a busy flight service. Then he noticed O’Whitt’s truck was gone!
Now that flash of white seemed very unsettling. He frantically looked over Bluegrass Aviation’s ramp. There was no white and black T-38.
The Rottweiler calmed himself. He hadn’t seen anything, just a crew preparing for a flight. Of course the truck was gone. It wouldn’t sit there forever. Probably gone to a relative or an estate sale. Still feeling a little uneasy, Mastifson watched the Beech start engines, taxi out, and take off. He then shook his head, chiding himself as he turned and got ready to start his workday.
# # #
Corrie walked in the door at Old North at oh seven hundred, ready for whatever was waiting. Today would be her last flight there. Either in the old hangar queen Huey or in their newest one once John Swiftclaw returned from his overnight run.
“Morning Ben,” She greeted the wire-haired terrier who owned the business.
“Mornin’ Corray. You don’t have to sound so chippah the day youah leaving us.”
She saw a hint of merriment in the canid’s eyes.
“Oh yes, can’t wait to get away from the old slave drivah. Seriously though, I’ll miss you, and everyone else. I’m sure I’ll be back to visit.”
“Ayuh, see that you do. For now, old Numbah Twelve is fixed and ready. Best get a move on, theah loading her now, and theah’s some weathah coming in this evening. Should get ouah first good frost behind it, so don’t dawdle.”
“You bet,” the lioness replied. “See you when I get in. Oh, and Alex is supposed to be in. He’s driving up from Portland, so he may be waiting for me when I get back in.”
“Ayuh, see you then,” the canid replied.
Corrie went to her locker and got her pilot’s bag, head phones, and her emergency bag of survival gear. Every pilot she knew in Maine took one of those along, just in case. She walked out to the Huey just as the two ground handling furs finished loading the supplies and equipment.
“Thanks guys!” she called as the pair, a bobcat and a muskrat, pushed the carts they’d loaded from back toward the truck they’d arrived in. They waved and went on. Corrie carefully made sure all the items were secured properly and the weight and balance figures were correct. She began her preflight, checking that all the covers were on tight and the repairs from last week were all signed off correctly in the log. Steve, a brown bear on their maintenance staff, showed up with their fuel truck and topped off her fuel, then waved as he left.
Satisfied that all was correct, the lioness got in and did her instrument checks and set up her radios and navigation points. She started the single turbine engine and let it come up to speed. The rotors began to spin up, and soon she hover-taxied out and lifted off, heading Northwest toward Seboomook Lake. There were scattered clouds above eight thousand, and a stiffening Southeast breeze, but the sun still shone and overall Corrie thought it a great day to be in the air.
# # #
Rex Richardson sat in a lawn chair in front of his hangar. Today might be the last day it would be nice enough to do so. The forecast called for increasing winds and probable thunderstorms overnight, with cold air and frost probable in behind that.
He’d thought about Corrinne and his plan several times, and twice thought about stopping her from taking off, but he couldn’t figure out how to do it without giving himself away. Now, it was too late. He watched the green and white aircraft lift off from the runway and head North. Perhaps he hadn’t loosened things enough and she’d make it back okay. If so he’d tell his ol’ buddy Steve to check and retighten what had been loosened. If she didn’t, well, she was a good pilot, and would put it down safely.
He watched her fly out of sight. The lion then decided it would look odd if he sat around waiting all day, so he put his chair inside and closed the hangar. He’d go get some lunch and maybe go shoot some pool before he checked back to see if she came back in later.
He headed for his car, his course of action set.
# # #
“Yeah, our company is one of the biggest paper manufacturers in the Southeast. If we can sign this deal on wood pulp from St. Regis, it’ll cut our costs by ten percent!” the meerkat bragged.
“Yeah? That’s great,” Alex responded, bored to tears but too polite to show it.
They’d picked up the three-fur executive team at Ashville. Two had complimented the beautiful aircraft and promptly went to the back seats and started working on laptop computers. The third, however, a Mr. Singh Parfutti, had sat up by Alex and spent his time apparently practicing his sales and/or purchasing pitch. Alex could have kissed Dieter right on the lips when his announcement came over the intercom.
“Please make sure your seatbelts are fastened and snug and put away all electronic devices. We are beginning our approach into Portland.”
“Ah, looks like we’re almost there. Pleasure talking to you, Alan,” the meerkat stated as he stood and made his way back to his companions. Alex slowly let out a breath of relief after a quick, “Sure thing.”
The approach and landing were smooth, and before long they were parked on the ramp at Northeast Air. The three executives thanked them and got out, heading for a waiting rental car. Alex got his bag and bid Dieter and Sarah goodbye.
“Great job you two. I’ll see you back in Lexington.”
“Thanks,” Dieter called.
“Thank you, Colonel,” Sarah added. They were both relaxing for now, as they were going to wait to fly the three back to Ashville after their meeting. Alex made his way out, also to a rental car, and stowed his bag. Getting in, he fastened his seatbelt and headed out for Lewiston.
# # #
“Okay, one last signature here,” Loni indicated. Kathleen looked over that piece of paperwork and signed accordingly.
“Welcome to Helipro,” Billy stated. Kathleen flashed him a huge smile.
“Guess I better make sure I’m familiar with all this, I’ll be doing it a lot as we hire pilots.”
“Don’t hesitate to ask me if you need help or guidance,” Loni stated. She was glad to see Billy hire the young collie femme, feeling it would be a good move for both.
“Loni has been helping with the process so far,” Billy stated. “But she needs to get back to focusing on Kentiger. I’ll let her show you to your temporary work space. Come and go as needed until you’re done at your other job. You’re on Helipro’s payroll at your set salary. The actual time needed to do the job will increase as we get closer to moving into our building, acquire aircraft and pilots, and start taking charters.”
Kathleen couldn’t keep the grin off her face. Loni stood and led her down the hall toward the hangar area. A small room just before they came out into the open hangar had a temporary sign on it that said Helipro. Loni opened the door to reveal…
A glorified broom-closet. There was a small desk and a chair, a filing cabinet in one corner, a mini-fridge in the other, and a printer on the floor with a case of copy paper. The desk held a computer, an intercom/phone, and a note pad. The most amazing sight was Rich Farraday bent over with his head and upper body snaked down under the desk. His knees were flexed, and his tail was up.
Loni started to say something when she noticed Kathleen looking on with an arched eyebrow and mouth slightly open. Her tail was slowly swishing back and forth. The lynx waited a moment for effect, cleared her throat, and spoke.
“Huh-humm, nice view Rich.”
There was a thud and a loud “Owww!” as Rich hit his head on the desk. He unthreaded himself and turned around.
“Loni, that’s not funny! That…hurt…”
His admonishment aborted on takeoff as he came face to face with the collie femme who was standing there with Loni. A blush began to fluff both their cheekfurs. Loni began the introductions.
“Kathleen Killian, admin for Helipro, meet Rich Farraday, computer geek extraordinaire.”
Rich found his voice first. “H-hello Kathleen, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
He offered his paw. She took it with no indication of letting go.
“Likewise, Rich. Are you okay?”
He grinned and looked down. “Yeah, just a bump.”
The two fell silent, still holding paws. Loni decided to help things along before she left.
“Rich will help you set up your computer and access codes and passwords. Oh, by the way Rich, Billy said you would be a good one to show Kathleen the best places around for lunch.”
Rich broke out of his rapt contemplation of the collie femme and blinked at Loni.
“Ah, yeah, lunch. That’d be fine…if you’d like, Kathleen?”
The collie now blinked also. “Oh, yes, lunch. That’d be great, Rich.”
Loni turned to leave as Rich began to slowly get back into business mode. Somehow without letting go of each other’s paws, Kathleen had gotten seated at the desk and Rich was beginning to show her how to start up and log in at the computer.
The lynx smiled to herself as she walked back to her desk. Billy was at the hallway leading to his office. She gave him a smirk and a thumbs-up. He grinned and went back to his work.
“Ol’ matchmaker,” she laughed to herself as she sat down to work.
# # #
“Bye Miss Corray. Hope to see you again sometime!” the old badger who ran the camp said. One of the hearty few who stayed year-round at the remote sight, the femme was one of the ones Corrie would miss.
“Bye Doris! I’ll come visit when I’m back this way,” the lioness replied as she shut the pilot’s door and buckled her belts. The supplies were off-loaded, the main doors closed. She’d used the outhouse after having lunch with Doris, and her preflight was complete.
“CLEAR!” she called out as she started the turbine engine and let it build speed. She checked the rotor rpm and felt the Thump-Thump-Thump of the two-bladed rotor. Their newer Hueys had four-bladed rotors, but this old gal had just two, giving her a distinctive bounce in her flight. The ride was a bit rougher, but she got where she was going, usually.
Everything was looking good, so Corrie pulled up on the collective and got airborne. She pitched her nose forward and accelerated while climbing away. In a few minutes she reached her chosen cruise altitude and called in to ATC.
“Portland Approach, Old North Twelve is a Huey up over Seboomook Lake VFR at thirty-five hundred heading for Lewiston. Request flight following and traffic advisory.”
“Old North Twelve, squawk one two zero zero,” the controller replied. She already had the VFR code dialed in, so she pushed the IDENT button.
“Old North Twelve, radar contact over Seboomook. No traffic at this time.”
“Old North Twelve, thank you.”
As she flew Southward, Corrie kept noticing how the clouds were thickening up to the West. She also began to bounce around in the gusty South winds that was kicking up ahead of the coming front.
She’d been at cruise for about fifteen minutes, well past the South end of the lake. Below her, all she saw was what looked like an endless forest. She was looking to pick out her next potential emergency landing spot, a habit all helicopter pilots had. Suddenly she felt something go Thump! in the back and every instrument and radio went dark. Her analog engine gauges were still working, but her comm and nav radios were blank. A flag popped up on her artificial horizon warning her the gyro, which was electrically driven, had lost rpm.
She was about to key up the radio just in case she could still reach Portland when she smelled a strong electrical ozone odor. Assessing the situation, she decided to continue for the moment. She was still airborne, with a good engine, VFR with a working compass, although the wind was bouncing her around enough to make it difficult to keep anything more than a basic “I’m going South” course. The continued noises from behind her told her the battery had probably come loose and shorted everything out. She pulled out her Mini-Mag light and looked at the fuse panel, which was cast in shadow. Sure enough, the mains were popped. She was too busy flying to try resetting them. Once she found a good spot to set down, she’d check the battery and cables and see if she could reset the breakers.
She could see what looked like an old dirt and gravel airstrip about three miles ahead and to her left.
“That looks like a good bet,” she said to herself.
She was descending toward the strip, down to around fifteen hundred feet and a mile or so away, when she felt a sudden lurch in her stomach. Her altimeter, which was analog, began to unwind and her engine RPM began dropping. She quickly grabbed the twist throttle on the collective, but found it had no tension on it. Instinctively, she set attitude and began an autorotation. The strip was tantalizingly close, but too far to make.
As her altitude rapidly dropped, she frantically looked around for any sort of clearing. All she saw were trees getting closer.
End of Chapter 94