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 2003-2007 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, Intermountain Charter, The Bitch, and her crew © Silver Coyote. See their story HERE. Gail Rutherford © me and is not canon to any other story involving ZZ Studios.
Chapter 42
In A Spin
Loni and Duncan stood, embracing each other tightly and getting one last good kiss in before everyone else began arriving at work. Monday mornings could be very busy at Kentiger as the weekend charters returned and everyone rushed in to finish up their paperwork so they could go home.
“Ready for the week?” Duncan asked as they made to part.
“As ready as I’ll ever be. Now scoot. Billy will be in soon, and you need to have his schedule ready for the check rides this week.”
Duncan slipped in close for a final kiss, catching Loni a bit off guard. She smiled her pleasure at the quick surprise as he turned to depart for his workspace. “I’m on it. See you at lunch?”
“You’re on.”
While the two felines inside the building went to start their work day, outside in the parking lot Billy and Penny Panelli were also getting in a last kiss before parting company.
“So you’ll be gone two times this week, right?” Penny asked as she pulled back and put her paw on her car door.
“Yep. Tuesday and Thursday nights I’ll be gone doing check rides on overnight charters. I just don’t know who with until Duncan puts the week’s schedule out this morning.” Billy was looking a bit distracted as he spoke.
“Well, keep your mind on your flying then, and not on what we found out about Carrie.” Penny’s voice held a note of concern. Billy sighed and nodded.
“I know, I know. See you this evening.”
“You better, Cowboy.”
They shared another quick kiss, and then Penny got in her car and departed for her job. Billy went inside, still lost in thought.
“Hi Billy,” Loni said in as cheerful a voice as she could muster on a Monday morning. She had stopped calling him Mr. Panelli shortly after Alex O’Whitt had come to work full time at Kentiger. She grinned to herself as she caught sight of the ZZ Studios poster over Billy’s left shoulder. Duncan had stared at it for a good five minutes when he’d first seen it earlier that morning, finally shaking his head and grinning.
Billy absently nodded and mumbled hello as he started to walk toward the hall to his office. Loni stopped him.
“Freeze right there, Billy Panelli. You have check rides to do this week, and you can’t do them wandering around in a distracted daze. What’s up?”
Billy sighed again. He was silent for a moment, and then seemed to reach some kind of decision.
“Sorry Loni. Yes, I am a bit distracted right now. My son’s family visited us over the weekend. You know our new grandchild, Carrie, right? We found out some bad news with her, and we’re still trying to deal with it.”
“Oh! I’m sorry, Billy, I had no idea.” Loni showed every sign of not pursuing the matter. If Billy wanted to say more, that was up to him. He nodded silently, acknowledging her respect for his privacy, and then spoke.
“It’s okay, Loni. Yes, I want to speak about it. We had noticed some odd things in her actions. She sticks very close to her sister, and it was hard to get her attention. We would find we had to be right in front of her for her to respond. We finally asked Rusty about it last night, and he told us what the problem is. They knew, but they’re trying to let Carrie learn to deal with the problem without too much special treatment.”
Loni remained silent, unsure exactly what Billy was trying to say. He sighed again and rubbed his neck, his tail flicking low behind him.
“Carrie is deaf. As far as we can tell, totally stone deaf. It happens sometimes in those with the calico fur pattern. A bit more often than in the general population, so the computer says.”
“Oh Billy! I don’t know what to say. That’s terrible.” Loni blinked, realizing that the words she was using were probably not expressing her sympathy very well. Billy was silent a few long moments. He then stood up tall, squared his shoulders, and smiled a bit at Loni.
“It is what it is. Carrie is as cute as she can be, and she already manages amazingly well. She’s still crawling, but soon she’ll be walking, and she stays close to her sister. Felicity seems to instinctively know her little sister needs her help, and those two have communicating down to a science. We had no idea about her problem for a couple of days. That’s how well the two work together. Her mother is already working with her, bringing her paw up to her throat so she can feel how sounds and words are formed. Rusty, my son, said the doctors have told them there’s every hope that Carrie will have a mostly normal life.”
Loni nodded slowly. There was a short silence between them, and then Billy appeared to mentally shift gears. “What’s on tap for today?”
“So far just the standard Monday paper shuffle. Deiter and Sarah are bringing their charter back east, and that storm system that gave them problems westbound has gotten bigger and nastier over Texas. I was just going to warm up the computer and look at the newest forecasts and radars for that area,” Loni replied as she moved to sit down at her desk.
“Good idea. They’re flying a group from Redline Productions, and those movie folks can get testy if they get delayed.” Billy’s mind was immediately out with his crew, imagining what they might encounter.
“It’s still very early out west, maybe we should call and have them be ready to divert to a more northerly course. They’re heading to New Orleans today,” Loni suggested as her computer finished booting up.
“I don’t know,” Billy said in a thoughtful tone. “They’re leaving Albuquerque, so the divert would end up being a very long way around. If they can’t get through the line of storms forecast for east Texas, my call would be to set down in Dallas.”
“Well, it’s still clear right now, but there’s a SIGMET just coming out along with a tornado watch for east Texas and western Louisiana for this afternoon,” Loni noted as the weather page updated.
Billy thought a moment, wondering to himself if he should call and tell their crew to just stay put in New Mexico.
Finally he stated, “Well, I’ll let Deiter make that call when the time comes.”
Loni nodded as Billy turned and headed for his office. It was promising to be a long day.
# # #
Alex pulled up in front of Old North Helicopters with a few minutes to spare before their opening time. He made sure the forms and information he’d need for the day were in his gear bag, and sat back to wait. While he waited, several vehicles arrived and parked and their drivers went inside. At exactly 0800, he walked in the front doors to what he thought would be the office area. There was a desk on the far side, with a wire-haired terrier sitting and pecking single-finger style on a computer. On the opposite side there was an arrangement of chairs and couches. Centered along the wall all the chairs faced, a television on a high stand stood showing a weather display. Off to one side, a small table held a large coffee pot. A place was open for cups and condiments, as well as a small bowl and a sign that announced, “25¢ a Cup.”
There were several furs all gathered in the makeshift lounge area, sipping from personal mugs and commenting on the weather display. The conversation went silent when he entered, every eye turning to take in the newcomer. Alex nodded politely as he headed for the desk. He’d meet them all later, most likely, and probably get to know them during his training. For their part, after a couple of seconds, the group went back to what they were doing, as well. Alex walked on toward the desk unperturbed. The silent appraisal was pretty well standard among pilots until they got comfortable with someone. He wondered if one of them was his instructor.
Alex stopped in front of the desk. Billy had described the owner of Old North Helicopters, and the canid at the desk fit that description to a “T.” The terrier looked up, fixing Alex with a careful, but not unfriendly eye. Alex politely introduced himself.
“Hello, I’m Alex O’Whitt. Billy Panelli of Kentiger Executive Air arranged for me to take helicopter training with you.”
Something told Alex to wait until the canid made the first move before extending his paw to shake. After a second the terrier responded.
“Ayuh. Billy said you were a big white tigah. Welcome, Alex. Ben Stevens.” Ben stood up and offered his paw. Alex shook it, noting that all those in the lounge area seemed to nod slightly and then return to their conversation.
“Thank you, Mr. Stevens. I have the paperwork filled out and signed for you.” Alex passed a folder of papers to the terrier.
“Just Ben’ll do fine. I’ll look these ovah, and if I need anything more I’ll catch you before you leave today. Corray should be waiting for you out by the main hangah door.”
“Great. Thank you, Ben.”
“Ayuh.”
Alex turned and walked back out, gear bag in paw. The pilots in the lounge area didn’t even look up. Outside he turned and walked along the front of the hangar. So far, he couldn’t see anyone waiting for him. The thought occurred to him that perhaps his instructor had stepped around to the side or there might be a door there. Alex turned the corner at the far end of the hangar.
He immediately stopped in his tracks to avoid colliding with a fur who was coming the other way. The lioness was about five foot ten, with blonde hair just past shoulder length, worn loose. Her fur had the tawny color typical of her species, but Alex noted a fair amount of sun-bleaching on the areas with upward facing surfaces. He would put her age at somewhere in her early thirties. A pair of green eyes looked him over appraisingly.
“You have got to be the one who flew that striped jet in Saturday. Can I help you?” she said in a soft Australian accent, with just a hint of a businesslike smile.
Alex was still a bit taken aback. The femme looked a little out of place compared to the rest of the crowd he’d seen inside. She was wearing a white flight suit, with a green stripe from each shoulder all the way down each leg. The suit was snug, but not overly tight, and it’s zipper in front was pulled high enough to be decent, but still showed a fair amount of fur. She looked slightly familiar, but he couldn’t immediately place where from. Alex blinked and looked past the femme, expecting to see the instructor with her, but no one else was around.
“Mate, are you lost or something?” she asked, looking at him a bit curiously now.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Yes, that was me in the striped jet. I’m looking for an instructor named Cory Patterson. I’m supposed to start helicopter training with him today.”
Alex got the immediate impression he’d said something wrong to the lioness. Her eyes narrowed, she put her paws on her hips, and her tail flipped back and forth.
“I’m Corrie Patterson, for your information. What’s the matter, Jet Jockey, don’t think a sheila can teach you anything?”
Alex’s eyebrows shot up as he realized he’d committed quite a blunder. “Uh, please excuse me, I meant no offense. My name is Alex O’Whitt. No, of course I don’t have a problem with a female instructor. I think we just got our wires crossed. Ah, is that C-O-R-R-I-E?”
“Right. Me regular name’s a bit too stuffy. Corinne.” Corrie looked the big white tiger in front of her over again. “Well, least you know how to apologize when you step on it. Good to meet you, Alex.”
Corrie offered her paw to shake. Alex took it and felt a strong, even grip. They released paws and Corrie turned back toward the direction she’d been coming from.
“I’ve got the bird ready. Did you read all that material Ben recommended?”
“Yes.” Alex decided to keep his answers simple and direct until he got a better read on the lioness. Her pawshake told him she was used to being in the company of males, as he could still feel the grip on his paw. Not in an uncomfortable way, but the memory of the feeling remained. He shook off the thought as Corrie spoke again.
“Then let’s get you started on the flying end of things.” She led the way out to the ramp beyond the hangar and up to a small, two fur helicopter.
“By the way,” she said back over her shoulder, “you do know that Ben is giving you your written exam in the morning, right?”
“Uh, no I didn’t. Guess I’ll see whether or not I studied enough.”
Corrie stopped and looked at Alex a second. “Well, I’ll give you marks for not being easily rattled. You’re certainly a cocky one.”
Alex felt a slight bit offended, but let the comment pass. There was no need in starting a feud with his instructor when they’d be spending a lot of time in close proximity for the next few weeks. They had stopped in front of a small white helicopter with a red stripe down its side and tail boom.
“Alright mate, this aircraft is a Robinson R22. It’s a two seat light training helicopter. It’s powered by a Lycoming O-360 piston engine, derated to 151 horsepower. It has a two blade main rotor, and a two blade anti-torque rotor on the port side of the tail. The preflight is fairly simple. Step up here and I’ll take you through it.”
Alex stepped up close and followed Corrie’s instructions. The preflight consisted of mostly checking that all the nuts and bolts were in place, that the engine had oil, and that nothing was bent. They worked their way around the helicopter. At the rear of the main fuselage, Corrie leaned in to show Alex how to check the set of belts that transferred power from the engine to the drive system for the rotors. Alex leaned in close beside her to see what she was doing.
“Easy there, Jet Jockey. There’s only room for one of us in this suit,” she chided, a little more strongly than Alex would’ve thought necessary for the accidental encroachment. He merely nodded and stepped back a slight bit. They then finished the preflight and strapped into the cockpit. The instruments were very basic, as was the startup procedure. In short order Corrie had led him through everything needed to get the helicopter airborne.
“Okay, here we go,” Corrie announced over the intercom. The little helicopter was noisy enough to require both ear plugs and headsets, so Alex could hear her quite clearly. He watched attentively as she pulled up on a handle beside her seat. The control was called the collective, because it collectively changed the pitch of both the main rotor blades at once, allowing the amount of lift the blades produced to be altered. Alex remembered from his reading that this was how a helicopter controlled its altitude. The throttle for the engine was a twist grip on the end of the collective, as well. He also noted that she applied pressure to the foot pedal to counter the increased torque of the main rotor spinning as it produced more lift. At this point his mind went blank for a second as he realized he was looking down her cleavage while trying to watch her adjust the collective. He shook his head slightly to clear the image, and managed to refocus his attention to her paw. Corrie was busy performing the liftoff, and didn’t notice his momentary lapse. There was a slight lurch in Alex’s stomach as they lifted free of the tarmac and began to slowly hover-taxi to the runway.
“We still follow the taxiways and runway, out of courtesy to the other aircraft operating in the area,” Corrie said as they headed for the runway. Alex nodded his agreement. With that slight motion his true education into rotorflight began.
# # #
Deiter Katz studied the returns on the weather radar carefully. The line of thunderstorms out ahead of them looked solid. It had just cleared the Dallas-Ft. Worth area, and was progressing slowly eastward toward the Louisiana state line. The storms within the line, however, kept forming and racing northeast at over fifty miles an hour. Any breaks were short-lived and any attempt to get through one of them would likely end in their being broadsided by a fifty-five thousand foot topped supercell. Dieter made his decision and glanced over at his copilot.
“Sarah, call DAL and get us a slot for landing. We’ll wait and see if this line clears on through before we run out of crew time. I’ll inform our passengers.”
While Sarah began to call ATC, Deiter switched to the intercom and keyed the mic. “Attention, this is the Captain. Due to bad weather ahead, we are going to divert into Dallas until the line of storms clears. Please make sure your seats are upright, your belts are on, and that everything is stowed for landing. Thank you for your patience.”
Deiter gave a sigh as he eased back the throttles and began to set them up for landing at the controller’s prompting. He’d expected one of the yes-furs for the director from Redline Productions to chime in on the intercom to complain, but for now it was silent. Things got very busy as he and Sarah worked their way down through the heavy traffic. With thunderstorms off to the east, it seemed everything from Seven Four Sevens to Piper Cubs were diverting to the Dallas-Ft. Worth International Airport. The traffic at their destination, Dallas’s Love Field, was still a little sticky, but not quite as hectic as DFW.
In around a half an hour, they were on the ground and taxiing to the Business Jet Center ramp. After the aircraft was parked and everything shut down, Dieter addressed his passengers.
“There is a line of severe thunderstorms across our route of flight to New Orleans. We will be holding here until it clears. I must tell you, though, that if it is a very long wait, say over two hours, the crew will be out of time. The FAA has set limits on the amount of time per day we can remain on-duty. There is a very nice lounge inside, and my copilot and I will be monitoring the weather closely.”
The mongoose director eyed Deiter carefully, then simply nodded and stood up. Immediately the three yes-furs sprang into action.
“Mr. Lorenso thanks you for your diligence,” the setter began.
“He’ll await your word to get back aboard,” The collie chimed in.
“He hopes the delay will be a short one,” the beagle finished, emphasizing the word ‘short.’
Deiter gave a short nod of his head in acknowledgement, and then turned and led the group into the building while Sarah closed up the aircraft. The director and his entourage immediately ensconced themselves in a group of overstuffed chairs in one corner and began to chatter with each other. When Sarah walked in, she and Deiter headed for the pilot’s flight planning area to check on the progress of the storms. The scene there was much more crowded. It took several minutes to get into the room where the weather computer was. After looking at the screen for almost fifteen minutes, Deiter and Sarah stepped back out to confer.
“That line isn’t going anywhere,” Sarah declared with a slightly frustrated tone.
Deiter ran a paw over the back of his neck. “Yes. In fact, it has intensified even more as the afternoon heating has kicked in.”
The two were silent for a moment, and then Deiter reached a decision. “I’m going to call home and inform them that we are likely going to remain here overnight. That line will be gone in the morning, and we can make New Orleans no problem.”
Sarah nodded once in acknowledgement as Deiter flipped open his cell phone. He punched in the office number, and Loni answered on the second ring.
“Kentiger Executive Air Service, may I help you?”
“Hello Loni, it’s Deiter. We’re on the ground at Dallas Love. The weather between here and New Orleans is looking really bad, so we’re probably going to spend the night.”
“Hello Deiter,” Loni replied. “Yes, we’ve been monitoring the weather down that way. Billy said it’s your call. We’ll back you up.”
Deiter let out a quick breath. He never doubted his boss would back him up, but it made it easier to have it stated. “Thank you, Loni. So far the pax are taking things okay, but when I announce this to them, it might be a different story.”
“Understood. Call back if you need to.”
“I will. What hotel do we head for?”
Loni quickly pulled up a list on her computer. “Let’s see. Ah, The Marriott there by the airport. I’ll call in the reservations.”
“Great. Call back if something goes south with that. Talk to you in the morning otherwise.”
“Bye Deiter.”
Deiter closed his phone and looked at Sarah. “Let’s go have one more look at that radar before we tell our passengers for sure that we are staying overnight.”
“Not something I look forward to,” Sarah replied as they turned back toward the planning room.
“Nor I, Sarah. Nor I.”
# # #
“Alright Alex, you’re doing fine so far. Loosen up a bit though, mate. It needs small inputs. Basically just think it and it’ll happen.”
Alex had been at the controls of the little Robinson helicopter for about ten minutes on this flight, their second of the day. Corrie had demonstrated some very basic flight maneuvers, and Alex had been able to repeat them. Things seemed to be going well, but Alex was finding it difficult to concentrate for some reason. Every time Corrie would bump shoulders with him or inadvertently brush his arm, a fairly common occurrence in the confined cockpit, Alex found himself starting or flinching a bit. He for the life of him couldn’t fathom why. He was used to operating in confined spaces like an aircraft cockpit, in close proximity with other furs. It happened in the military on a pretty regular basis. His reactions were puzzling him as he did his best to keep his focus on his flying.
“Okay, I have the aircraft,” the lioness announced. Alex relaxed his hold on the controls, but kept in contact with them so he could follow her movements. They were out to the west of the airport at two thousand feet, flying over scattered homes and fields with patchy woods breaking up the open terrain. They began a steady descent into a wide, flat field. Corrie expertly brought the aircraft down and established a hover about ten feet off the ground in the middle of the field. Alex cocked his head to the side, watching her movements as well as feeling them through the controls. He was impressed by her smooth handling of the aircraft. He felt the cyclic, the stick in front of him that controlled the angle the whole rotor assembly moved to in relation to the helicopter’s fuselage, and thereby its direction of movement, moving in subtle corrections to hold the hover.
“Now,” she stated once the hover was established. “In a few seconds, I’m going to let go of the controls. Your job is to hold the hover right here where I’ve established it.”
“Got it. Whenever you’re ready,” Alex replied.
Corrie tsked once. “We’ll see, Jet Jockey. The aircraft is yours.” Corrie immediately removed her paws and feet from the controls.
Alex was doing a credible job of holding the hover, but as the seconds ticked off, it became harder and harder. The slightest breeze tried to push him to the side. Every control input had to be balanced by an input from another. By twenty seconds in, Alex was sweating. They began to creep slowly sideways to the right. Corrie reached over and gently placed a paw over his on the cyclic to guide him in bringing the drift to a halt. Alex saw her movement. Knew exactly what she was going to do. When she touched his paw, though, he jerked slightly. For what reason he couldn’t think of. The chopper wobbled precariously as Corrie grabbed the controls and pulled up hard on the collective to get them up and out of the hover.
“Ah crap!” Alex exclaimed under his breath.
Corrie glanced his way as they recovered to two thousand feet. “Well, aren’t we the big ego,” she commented coolly as they turned back toward the airport. “Sorry you weren’t perfect first time out, mate. You did a LOT bettah than most. Usually a student can’t hold it more than five or ten seconds on their first attempt.”
Alex looked at her a little sheepishly. He was a bit of a perfectionist about his flying, and it felt odd to have to struggle so and not master what he was doing. Then he set his jaw stubbornly.
“Is it common practice to have the student attempt something they have no hope of doing? That sounds a bit odd.”
Corrie narrowed her eyes, but then reset her features to a neutral expression. “Look mate, we do that to show them exactly how interrelated all the controls are. That every input absolutely has to be balanced with inputs from the rest. Don’t take it personally. As I said, you did well. A bit more practice, and you’ll be apples. Just relax though, you seem a bit jittery.”
Alex nodded, feeling a bit foolish for being defensive. He’d been a student before, many times. Why he felt he had to defend his flying, as well as his edginess, he was at a loss to explain. He shrugged the thoughts off and spent the time while they were flying back to Lewiston studying his instructor a bit closer. She still reminded him of someone, but exactly who was still a mystery to him. He eased his scrutiny when he noticed her glance at him a couple of times, and then return some of his attention out of the corner of her eye. In a short time, Corrie had hover-taxied the Robinson back to the spot they’d started from. She reviewed with Alex the shutdown procedure, and then showed him how to secure everything for the day.
“Not bad at all for your first day, Alex. Go get some rest and a good supper, and let what you learned settle in. I’ll see you after your written exam tomorrow. We’ll build on what we did today, so think on it and we’ll talk over today’s flying before we fly again. If you’re interested, Ben and the guys usually gather in the pilot’s area for an end of day yak session. I usually join them, but I’ve got an errand to run today. See you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow then, Corrie. Thanks,” Alex replied. He watched her walk away. Her walk was smooth, but not flaunting. She was a beautiful femme, but he was most impressed by her confidence and skill with the aircraft. Her brusque manner he’d have to get used to. He could definitely see why Billy had said Ben was giving him their best instructor.
“Ah, might as well go see what Ben and the other pilots have to say,” Alex muttered to himself. “A bit of conversation will help me relax so I can be ready for tomorrow’s test.”
He walked across the ramp to the hangar, and on into the office and lounge area. Ben was there, along with five other furs. As Alex stepped into the circle of chairs, Ben began the introductions.
“Alex, see you survived your first day. Let me introduce this band of scoundrels. The cheetah ovah there is Daniel Prescott. His primary ride is ouah MD-500. You may get a chance at that one if you finish your primary training early enough. The whippet theah is Rogah Sheldon. He flies ouah medivac Longrangah. The Maine Coon feline is George Ferris. He flies cargo and passengahs in one of ouah Hueys. We have three, although ouah oldest one spends a lot of time in the shop. The bull terriah is Shawn MacKenzie. He flies passengahs, light cargo, and sightseeahs in anothah Jetrangah. He also spells Daniels on medivac. The Dachshund is Franz Pater. He instructs in one of ouah two Robinsons and flies mostly the Jetrangahs. O’course, any one o’ these can fly most anything in the stable. We have twelve aircraft total, and employ fifteen pilots full time, five more part time. The rest are either off today or out on runs. Fellahs, this is Alex O’Whitt, new student of Corray’s.”
Nods and hellos were extended, and Alex responded in kind. Then Daniel started the conversation.
“Alex, how’d ya do today? It was your first lesson, right?” The cheetah spoke in a very fast-paced manner, with no discernable accent.
“Okay, I guess. Corrie said so, anyway. First day jitters, I hope, but I felt a bit jumpy.”
“Ayuh, don’t worry about that,” George chimed in. “She has that effect on most males at first.”
“Oh yes,” Shawn added in a slight Irish accent. “Don’t take it to heart, though. All the single males hereabouts have tried, and have just as promptly been shot down. The Ice Queen, we calls her. Don’t get me wrong, we think the world o’ the lass. She just doesn’t go for guys.”
Before Alex could react to that, Ben spoke up. “Now Shawn,” the terrier said in a chiding tone, “we’ve nevah seen her with a gal, eithah. ‘Sides, Alex here is an Air Force fightah pilot. Real wah hero. If anybody wouldn’t get shot down, it’d be him.”
The others all nodded, duly impressed, but doubtful looks and smirks still abounded. Alex took in the information, shaking his head, and then went on without thinking about it much.
“Well, she’s a great instructor. I’m here to learn, though, not to find a date. Still, she reminds me of someone. I just can’t quite place who.”
“Rachel Huntress,” Roger Sheldon stated with a nod.
Alex blinked, but then had to nod in agreement. Corrie did resemble the lioness supermodel. He felt that Corrie was a bit taller, but that was certainly where his feelings of seeing her before had come from.
“You’re right, that’s the resemblance.”
“Glad that’s settled,” Ben said with a grin that was barely visible through his wiry fur. “Now Alex, you’d best be heading out. If Corray didn’t tell you, I’m giving you your written test in the morning.”
He nodded toward the door. The rest of the group stood up and made to break up for the day, as well. Alex said goodbye to them and headed for his hotel. He could get in some last minute studying before supper, and then he planned on a hot shower and a bit of mental flying before bed. Possibly a good workout too, as the hotel had an exercise room. That should help him get a handle on his jumpy reactions before flying again.
As he drove on toward his temporary home, he chalked the day up as an acceptable start.
# # #
Sarah Dunn was looking out the window of the lounge, watching the puddles from the earlier storm dry. She noticed a Kingair out on the ramp, apparently being prepared for flight.
“Must be headed west,” she mused to herself. Then she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned to find one of the yes-furs from Redline Productions giving her a haughty expression.
“Pilot, the director, Mr. Lorenso, wishes to know how soon we can expect to be departing.”
Sarah faced the beagle squarely. “The aircraft commander, Captain Katz, will make that determination. As of five minutes ago, he was down in the planning room reviewing the storm’s progress, as you said your boss requested. He is being very accommodating in doing so, as he told you he had already decided it was too risky to continue today. The last I saw, the line was still this side of the Louisiana border.”
“I see,” the beagle said, his expression unchanged. “Mr. Lorenso wishes to know, then, why the aircraft you were just watching is departing for New Orleans within the half-hour.”
“What? Who told you that?” Sarah was more concerned about who would be so foolish as to attempt to head east than she was about the possibility of Deiter changing his mind.
“One of the passengers, just now as they prepared to leave the lounge.”
Sarah eyed the beagle for a second, and then responded. “As I said, Captain Katz makes that decision in our case. I will pass your question on to him.”
The beagle nodded and turned back toward the lounge area in a dismissive way. Sarah went downstairs to the pilot’s flight planning area in search of Deiter. She found him out in the ground floor lobby, where he had come to give the other pilots a chance at the computers.
“Deiter, the movie folks are getting antsy about stopping. One of them just came up to me with some story about a Kingair departing for New Orleans. There is one out on the ramp being prepped, but I don’t know where it’s going.”
The Manx looked askance. “I was just talking to a Kingair pilot who said his passengers were pressing him to go. I didn’t realize he might actually be contemplating heading east. Come, let’s go find him.”
With Deiter leading the way, they checked the flight plan filing desk. No one was there, so they walked out onto the ramp. There they found a rather harried-looking badger doing a preflight inspection on a Kingair.
“Phil,” Deiter called out as they walked up, “can we talk to you a second?”
The badger turned and looked at them with a rather surprised, hurried expression. “Make it quick, Deiter. The client is one of our best customers, and they’re very impatient. Mid-level managers from a big oil company. They insist they have a meeting to get to.”
“Phil, you saw that line on the radar. There’s no openings that last long enough to get through,” Deiter said evenly.
“Ah, you know that radar display doesn’t have that fine a resolution. There’s a weaker segment in the south quarter. I’m sure we can pick our way through between cells when we get close.” The badger kept looking over their shoulder toward the building. His passengers would be out any moment, and he didn’t want to be seen chatting instead of preparing to leave.
Deiter shook his head. “You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself, not me. You know how fast those cells are moving, and how fast a hole can close up. Did you look at the news on the regular television in the lounge? They just issued a tornado watch for that southern area. Rapid intensification is forecast for that part of the line.”
Phil nodded solemnly, but then gave a shrug. “I know, but we have to try. I’ve already voiced concern with the company owner. Mr. Starks insists we keep the customers happy. Of course, he covered himself by saying it was my call, but he left no doubt about his wishes. If the customer wants to go, we go.”
Deiter looked at the badger a long moment. It was clear to him that Phil was operating under untoward pressure from his passengers. Finally he spoke. “Be very, very careful. It would be better for all to be alive and unemployed than to be this evening’s headline.”
With that, he turned and walked away. Sarah met eyes with the badger, gave a nod of encouragement toward the lounge area of the building, and then followed Deiter back inside. As they walked into the lobby, they were confronted by their four passengers. The mongoose glared at them intently while the yes-furs started their chorus.
“Mr. Lorenso is waiting to board so we can leave,” the setter opened.
“We have every confidence in your aircraft and abilities,” the collie added.
“With your permission, of course Captain,” the beagle ended with mock deference.
Deiter looked them over for a brief second before replying. “We are not departing. You will be the company’s guests at the Marriott overnight, as we said was a possibility earlier. We are near the time limit for our flying today, as it is. The weather remains dangerous, and the line of storms is intensifying.”
“Mr. Lorenso would like to remind the captain that other aircraft are departing even now for the same destination as ours.” The beagle’s haughty expression had returned.
“One aircraft, and I do not share that pilot’s optimism.” Deiter crossed his arms, and his ears were half down.
“Mr. Lorenso requests that you speak to Mr. Panelli about this decision.” The setter had taken on an expression similar to the beagle’s.
Deiter glanced at Sarah, who shrugged. They both were confident in Billy’s response. If having that confirmed would appease their passengers, they had no problem with it. Sarah retrieved a cell phone from her pocket and passed it to Deiter.
As the director and his staff looked on, Deiter dialed Kentiger’s office number. On the second ring, a familiar voice answered. Deiter listened a moment, and then responded.
“Hello Loni, it’s Deiter again. Let me speak with Billy, please.”
Deiter paused while the call was transferred. Outside, they could hear the sound of the Kingair’s engines starting up. He silently wished the pilot well as he waited for Billy to come on the line.
# # #
“Those sound like just what we’re looking for, Fred.” Billy eased back in his chair. His call to his friend the aircraft broker had been unanswered on Saturday, but the red fox todd had just returned the call. He had a response to Billy’s inquiry.
“I thought so, too. It’s not often you get a package like this, Both the G-IV and the Citation have clean titles and good maintenance records. The current owner is wishing to sell after a refocusing of his primary market.”
Billy gave a blank look, which Fred of course didn’t see. “What?”
Fred grinned. “Passenger charters aren’t working well for him, so he’s changing to mostly cargo.”
Billy smirked at the bizspeak, and then started to find out more information. “Okay, we’ll go ahead and make a bid on them. Who’s the current—”
*Beep* “Billy, Deiter’s on line two. You’d better take it,” Loni interrupted.
“Sorry Fred, gotta go. Get a read on what the owner is looking for out of them, and we’ll make an offer. Bye.”
“Sure Billy. Bye.”
Fred Bostick closed the connection and turned to the information sheets on his desk. “Okay, now where did I put those sheets from Intermountain. I think there was a negotiable price listed there.”
Back in his office, Billy pushed the button to take Deiter’s call. “Hello Deiter, what’s up?”
“Hello Billy. Our passengers from Redline requested that I call and confirm my nogo decision with you. The weather to our east is, in my judgment, too dangerous to attempt to penetrate, especially this close to being out of crew time. There is an aircraft preparing to take off for New Orleans, and Mr. Lorenso and company are thinking that means we should go, too.”
Billy arched an eyebrow. It happened from time to time that a crew and their passengers would butt heads. It was Kentiger’s solid policy that the captain of the aircraft was the final authority in any flight decisions. If their judgment wasn’t trustworthy, they wouldn’t be working for Kentiger.
“I see,” Billy responded after a second. “Put Mr. Lorenso on the line. NOT his yes fur, him.”
Deiter, a small smile forming on his muzzle, held the phone out toward the mongoose. The setter stepped up to take it, but Deiter pulled it back.
“Not you. Billy specifically said Mr. Lorenso only.”
The setter stopped, looking uncertain. The mongoose looked a bit taken aback. He rather hesitantly stepped forward and took the phone.
“Ah, hello?” Charles Lorenso said in a rather high pitched voice. Both Deiter and Sarah realized this was the first time they’d ever actually heard him speak.
“Mr. Lorenso, Billy Panelli. I understand you are questioning Captain Katz’s decision to not proceed to New Orleans, and that you are in fact pressuring him to go."
The mongoose put on his wild director look. “Yes. Another plane is leaving for New Orleans right now. We just heard the engines start. I demand—”
“Mr. Lorenso, I would like to remind you that the contract Redline Productions signed with us clearly states that in matters of aircraft safety, the pilot in command is the final authority. I have full confidence in Captain Katz, and I support whatever his decision is completely. I have no knowledge of, and thereby no such confidence, in the crew that is departing. If Captain Katz says you’re staying put, I suggest you relax and enjoy the hospitality of the local hotel we’re lodging you in.” Billy could not see the wild director look on the mongoose, and therefore paid it no attention.
“But—”
“That is my final word, Mr. Lorenso. You can save face with your assistants by making this seem like your idea, or not. The choice is yours.”
Billy then held silent a moment. It was possible his action could cost them their contract with Redline Productions, but he would not endanger their crew or aircraft by pressing a pilot to go against their better judgment.
The mongoose paused for a very long moment before he spoke again. “Well of course, Mr. Panelli, that only makes sense. Thank you for your time.”
Mr. Lorenso gave the phone back to Deiter, who put it up to his ear. “Billy, we’ll get the bags unloaded. Do we need to call the hotel to come pick us up?”
“No, I would bet, if I know Loni, she already has your ride lined up. Heh, she’s probably listening right now.”
“Of course I have everything lined up for them, Billy,” Loni’s voice cut in, bringing a chuckle from Billy. “Deiter, just go to the front of the building and wait. The hotel shuttle should be there to pick you up shortly.”
“Thank you, Loni. Billy, I’ll call in the morning..”
“Bye Deiter,” both Billy and Loni replied, causing them to both laugh a bit after the line was disconnected.
Billy started to call the broker back, but instead rubbed his temples and sighed. He silently wished the aircrew that was attempting to fly through weather that Deiter Katz wouldn’t try well. Then he stood and walked out to the lobby.
“Loni, everyone is down for the day now. I’m going on home.”
“Are you okay, Billy?” she asked, concern showing in her voice.
Billy paused. After several second’s thought, he answered. “Got a bit of a headache. I can’t help but think about what might’ve happened if Deiter had let them pressure him into trying to thread the needle through a line of severe weather, and they’d have crashed. When you get a chance, how about putting a letter out to all paws, stating clearly the confidence we have in their judgment, and that we’ll back them up if needed.”
“No problem, I’ll write it up today. Go get some rest. See you tomorrow, Billy.”
“Bye Loni.”
Billy left the lobby and went to his car. He now found himself smiling a bit. Kentiger had good crews, and he was quite at ease with backing up their decisions. He got in and headed home, contemplating a shower before Penny got there.
# # #
“The hotel van is on its way for us,” Sarah stated as she rolled her overnight bag up to the group. The director and his entourage were standing beside their luggage outside the Business Jet Center building. Deiter stood beside them, a small carry-on bag slung over his shoulder.
“Mr. Lorenso finds that very acceptable,” the setter began in their usual order of answering for the mongoose.
“Your charter service is most efficient,” the collie added.
“How early in the morning are we departing?” the beagle asked. The haughtiness was gone from his voice this time.
“At your convenience,” Deiter replied.
“Nine o’clock,” Charles Lorenso stated, catching his yes-furs off guard.
“Very good,” Deiter acknowledged with a nod of his head.
Just then one of the workers from Business Jet Center walked up to them. The look on the raccoon’s face told them he had something to say.
“Uh, are you two the pilots I saw earlier talking with the captain of a Stark’s Aviation Kingair? The one that left about forty minutes ago?”
Deiter and Sarah looked at each other, and then Deiter answered, “Yes, what can we do for you?”
“Thought you’d like to know, ATC just called and told us to preserve all records of their visit here. They tried to go through that line of storms to the east. ATC said they lost radar contact with them about ten minutes ago. Just as they were calling us, it came in from Air Rescue and Recovery up at Scott Air Force Base that a satellite had just received an Emergency Locator Transmitter signal from that area. It . . .it’s not looking good.”
There was a long moment’s silence as Deiter and Sarah took in that information. Finally Deiter nodded and replied. “Thank you. If anyone from the FAA or NTSB need to talk with us, we’ll be here in the morning, or you have our home office information.”
The raccoon nodded in return and walked back into the building the way he’d come. Deiter turned back toward their passengers. Charles Lorenso had stepped up and now stood directly in front of the manx. The two looked at each other a moment, and then the mongoose gave a respectful bow.
“Thank you,” was all he said.
Deiter acknowledged the bow. Just then the shuttle van pulled up.
“Sorry to be so late,” the driver called out. “We’re really busy. Lots of folks diverting in after the storm.”
Charles Lorenso tilted his head, acknowledging his inability to control the situation. In fairly short order, all the luggage was loaded and the passengers were put aboard. Finally Deiter and Sarah were able to get in and relax.
“You know,” Deiter finally said, almost as much to himself as to Sarah, “it’s days like today I almost wish I’d been a banker like my mother wanted me to.”
Sarah just nodded, and rode on in silence. They both loved to fly, but both had a feeling of profound sadness for the crew and passengers from Stark’s Aviation.
“Well, tomorrow’s another day,” she said at length. The rest of the drive was quiet as everyone contemplated the day’s events.
# # #
Corrie Patterson relaxed, enjoying a late supper after going to the bank and then waiting in line to renew her driver’s license. She had been the last one in line, and hadn’t finished up at the Department of Motor Vehicles until nearly six o’clock. She’d picked up some fried chicken on the way home, and now she was just finishing her meal. A burger would’ve been faster to get, as she had to go out of her way to get to the chicken place, but she hadn’t eaten hamburgers since she was a teenager.
She stood up from the table in the kitchen of her apartment and threw the refuse from the meal into the trash. She was deliberating what to do next, and decided a nice bath would relax her for sleep.
She went to the bathroom and laid out her robe and towels. She ran the bathwater, got undressed, and eased herself down into the tub, letting the warm water soak her fur, all the way down to her tail tuft. Leaning back against a bath pillow, Corrie let her mind drift. She had just turned thirty seven, and her life was, for the most part, to her satisfaction. Her job with Old North was stable, and she was saving up money with the idea of starting her own helicopter business in mind. She was on friendly terms with her coworkers, and Ben treated her well. She had no male in her life, nor did she want one. She’d tried the dating route, but it had always ended up in such a mess that she’d made the decision to give up on it several years back. Without that distraction, she’d set a course for herself and stuck to it quite well.
Not wanting to retread old ground, she shifted her thoughts to the day’s flying. Her new student had made excellent progress, in her opinion. She’d been quite impressed at how well he’d held that first hover. The tiger was a bit jumpy, and very hard on himself. He would be a fine rotorcraft pilot if he would only relax and let his muscles learn how to control the aircraft by the subtle movements only thinking about the motion would bring.
“Ah, the military male ego,” she sighed. She’d seen it before. They would accept nothing short of perfection from themselves, right from the start. They didn’t grasp that helicopter flying required a different set of muscle-memory inputs than flying fixed-wings. In most, it was a lot stronger and more blatant than what Alex O’Whitt showed. At least after the misunderstanding at their meeting he had apologized, and was trying to learn what she was teaching him. She’d had ex-military pilots show up for training before who scoffed at her ability to teach them anything right to her face, simply because she was a female.
“This one’s a bit different,” Corrie admitted to herself. “If he learns to relax a bit, he’ll solo by early next week.”
The water was beginning to cool, so Corrie left her musings and finished her bath. She toweled herself dry and drained the bathtub, and then dressed for bed. As she lay down, she silently thanked God for another day, and for a good night’s sleep. Soon she was peacefully dreaming of blue skies and light winds.
End of Chapter 42