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 96
Searching, Pt. 2
Everyone at Old North was up and moving by 0500 the next morning. The temperature had dropped to 28°F, and the winds Northwest at 10 gusting to 18 made it feel much colder. Captain Morris had a map laid out on a table, ensuring everyone knew what grid they were searching.
“Check in with Portland Approach. They have assigned a controller just to coordinate the SAR traffic in and out of the search area. Frequency in use is two sixty nine point six five. Be sure to monitor one twenty one point five in case she calls out on a paw-held or gets the ELT working. Watch your terrain. Don’t get so involved in looking that you forget to watch where you’re going. Search altitude is fifteen hundred AGL. If you spot something, make sure and get a good fix on the location so we can send a ground team. Any question?”
No one said anything, so the Captain ended with, “Good luck and good hunting.”
Everyone began milling around, sorting out who was going with who and which aircraft needed a spotter. Alex stepped over to Captain Morris.
“Mo, I have a small backpack of gear I’d like to bring. Binoculars, a paw-held GPS, short machete, compass, extra gloves and hats, some water and snacks. Also, hope you don’t mind the unmarked flight suit. I’m not officially on duty, so I don’t have all the bells and whistles on.”
Mo gave him a grin. “As long as you aren’t stark naked I don’t care. Good to see you have good boots and a coat.”
Alex, who was wearing a winter-weight aircrew parka over his flight suit, returned the grin. “I also have a watch cap and gloves, and as I said, a spare set in the pack.”
The ferret looked at him askance. “You do realize we’re not in a chopper, right? If we would happen to find her, we’ll most likely have to send a ground team to get her. Not many places to land in the Maine woods.”
Alex nodded. “I know, but I want to be prepared, just in case.”
Mo shrugged. “Fine by me. Got a thermos in there too? You might want to bring some coffee along. I already have mine, and I’m always willing to share, but it’ll last longer if we both have some. Plus, if we do find her and find a place to set down, a hot cup of coffee will do wonders for someone cold.”
Alex gave a nod and went over to his duffel bag and pulled out a coffee thermos. He’d thought it would help on the drive South, so he’d packed it along. Ben had arranged for two restaurant-sized coffee pots to be brought in, and Franz Pater’s wife, a stout German Shepherd femme with a pronounced German accent, was making sure they stayed full. She was also giving any and all who’d take them wrapped packages of breakfast strudel.
Alex walked over with his thermos in paw just as the femme turned his way.
“Ah! You must be Miss Corrie’s beau, ja? Here, good strudel to keep you strong in das search! Here, let me fill dis for you!”
She thrust two packages of strudel in his paw as she grabbed the thermos and filled it from the freshest pot. She expertly spun the lid and cup back on and placed it in his other paw.
“Now, you go find her! Ve all love her und vill miss her, but she vill be very happy vit you. Now go!”
“Danke’, Frau Pater,” Alex replied as he turned to go, causing the femme’s eyes to go wide.
“Ich bin Eva, gutter Herr. Gottschnell,” she said, almost shyly.
“Danke’, Eva.” Alex said over his shoulder as he walked away.
He went to his backpack and put the thermos and one of the strudel packages in it. He zipped it closed and shouldered it. Mo was talking with Ben, so he walked over to them. Ben was speaking as he walked up.
“Ayuh, it’s a bit early, but not unheard of. At least theah’s a full day’s search we can get in.”
“Now what?” Alex asked as he joined them.
“Snow coming overnight. The good news is, it won’t get much colder today. Bad news is four to six inches expected overnight, and then the temps drop to the single digits behind it.” Mo stated.
Alex looked from one to the other, then motioned toward the flightline.
“Time’s wasting, let’s get in the air.”
“Ayuh, good idea,” Ben affirmed.
They moved to go, and Alex offered some strudel to Mo.
“Strudel? My bet is it’s quite good.” Alex grinned as he held out the package he’d kept out.
“Oh, I know it is. Eva Pater’s strudel is legendary around these parts. I already have two packages in my bag. Thanks, though, Ice. Tells me a lot that you offered,” The ferret replied, grinning.
Alex tucked the package into his coat pocket, picked up his travel mug and backpack, and he and Captain Morris started for the door. Just then it opened, and a large lion stepped in.
It was Rex Richardson, and he looked terrible! He was disheveled and unkept. His eyes were bleary and red, and those within range could testify to the fact he didn’t smell too good, either.
There were several shouts, admonishing him to leave. The noise caused him to grab his head and hold up a paw in supplication. Ben called for quiet and then spoke.
“Rex, you were told not to come back heah. State your business and be off. We have a search going on.”
The lion managed to clear his eyes a bit, and then lowered his gaze.
“I know. I heard Miss Corrinne is missing. I…I want to help. I know I look rough, and I have a hangover that would kill an elephant, but I swear I’m sober. I’ll be twelve hours since my last drink by Eight. I’ll take whoever wants to help look and whatever grid is left.”
Ben’s first instinct was to have the lion thrown out, but then Rex stiff-walked over and dropped to one knee in front of Alex, baring his neck.
“Tiger, I never got your name. You’ve beaten me fair and square, both in a fight and for Miss Corrinne’s affections. I submit. I just want to help.”
Alex looked at him a moment before he moved or spoke. He put a paw on the lion’s exposed throat, claw tips out.
“I’m Alex O’Whitt. I accept your submission and forgive your actions toward me. We’ll not speak of it again. You owe Corrie a huge apology, but we have to find her first. The more eyes and airframes out the better, if any will fly with you.”
Everyone looked at Ben. The terrier simply gave a nod, and everyone began to move again. Before Alex released the lion and stepped around him to go on, he added quietly, “If this is some scheme to get close to her to try something, your hangover now will feel like the best day you’ve ever had compared to when I get through with you.”
Rex nodded, and Alex released him and joined Mo as he headed for the CAP Cessna waiting on the ramp. The lion got slowly to his feet and slumped over to sit in one of the chairs near the weather display. Alex glanced back to see Eva Pater giving him both a stern lecture and a large cup of coffee.
# # #
Jefferson Mastifson had arrived at his office bright and early this Tuesday morning, intent on not letting the lead on his work schedule deteriorate. He barely gave a glance toward Kentiger or Bluegrass, but it did catch his eye that the old decrepit hangar down on that corner of the airport was being demolished.
“About time. That’s been an eyesore since I arrived here,” he mused to himself. He then noticed movement in the Kentiger parking lot and, mostly out of habit, picked up his binoculars. The Bengal tiger owner, Panelli, was arriving, accompanied by a femme that appeared to be a tiger-fox hybrid.
“Probably his wife,” the Rottweiler stated without much interest. They both wore worried expressions. He shrugged. It didn’t matter to him anymore if the business thrived or folded. He put the binoculars away and got on with work.
One of the first items was an application to build and operate a heliport off of Taxiway Echo. As Airline Liaison, he had to sign off on it as not interfering with airline operations. Since all traffic and routes would be controlled by the tower, he didn’t see how it could. The applicant was a business, one Helipro, Inc. He glanced over again and saw the old hangar coming down, right beside Taxiway Echo. Now that made sense. Without another thought, he signed off on the paperwork and put it in his out basket, another task done and gone.
As he worked, the thought of O’Whitt still haunted the back, dim reaches of his mind. The tiger was truly gone, of that he had no doubt. His ghost, however, still hung around.
“How does one fight a ghost?” he wondered briefly before going on to his next task.
# # #
Billy and Penny walked in to Kentiger the next morning. Penny had taken the day off, and as soon as Jenna had heard why, she took the day as well. Fortunately for Jeremy, they’d finished the add campaign idea for the tire company the previous day, a record for the business. Jenna was on her way, taking a couple of minutes to call Jack and let him know where she would be.
As they walked in, Loni greeted them.
“Good morning, Billy, Penny, it’s…okay, what’s wrong?”
“Does it show that badly on our faces?” Billy mused. “We got a call last evening from Alex. Corrie’s helicopter disappeared from radar on her way back in after dropping off her last cargo run. No ELT, no radio contact. They launched the search this morning. We decided to wait for news here. Jenna’s coming, too. We’re going to try to operate as much like normal as possible, but I think we’re gonna hang out here in the lounge instead of back in my office.”
Loni was so taken aback that she sat there with her mouth open for nearly a full minute. Then she blinked, shut her muzzle, and stood up.
“Fresh coffee coming in five minutes. If we haven’t heard anything by lunch, I’ll call for takeout. Is there anything we can do?”
“Pray,” Penny replied as they sat down. Loni nodded and went on toward the breakroom.
“You might want to decide what to tell your new employee,” the lynx tossed over her shoulder as she walked out.
“New employee?” Penny inquired with an arched eyebrow. Billy didn’t miss a beat.
“Young collie femme named Kathleen Killian. Alex and I met her at Shaw. She was a friend of Jason and Jenna’s. Hired her as Admin and Dispatcher for Helipro. Rich Farraday has showed an interest, so I had him show her the good lunch spots nearby yesterday.”
Penny arched an eyebrow again. “Why Billy, you ol’ matchmaker you. I’m impressed.”
Billy smirked, “Yeah, yeah, I learned from the best. Hope you get to meet her, she’s due in at nine.”
Presently Jenna came in and Loni arrived with three hot cups of coffee. Billy and Penny passed on the news to Jenna about the new hire, and everyone settled in to wait.
# # #
“Clear PROP!” Mo called as he hit the starter. The little Cessna’s engine spun a couple of times and then caught and roared to life. Alex had noted that Mo’s preflight was both fast and thorough.
“Lewiston Ground, CAP Five One, request taxi for takeoff on Runway Three Five from the Old North ramp,” Mo called as the engine stabilized and they prepared to take off.
“CAP Five One, Ground, cleared to taxi from the Old North ramp and back track on Three Five, contact Tower on one one eight point five, good luck.”
“CAP Five One,” the ferret responded. They taxied out and up the runway, turning one eighty and stopping.
“Lewiston Tower, CAP Five One is on the end of Runway Three Five, requesting takeoff,” Mo called. The tower responded immediately.
“CAP Five One, hold for cross traffic, a Cessna taking off on Runway Four.”
They waited as the Cessna, the other CAP aircraft, took off.
“CAP Five Three, rolling,” they heard the other aircraft call.
“Copy you rolling Five Three, contact Portland Approach SAR on two six niner point six five, good hunting,” the tower replied. They heard two mic clicks, and then the other Cessna was up and away. Then it was their turn.
“CAP Five One, cleared for takeoff. Contact Portland Approach SAR on two six niner point six five, good hunting.”
“CAP Five One rolling, thank you,” the ferret replied as he pulled on full throttle. The 172, despite full fuel, quickly gained flying speed and lifted off. Mo called Portland as soon as they cleared the end of the runway.
“Portland SAR, CAP Five One is a Cessna One Seven Two out of Lewiston for SAR Grid Eight.”
The frequency was busy with traffic, but the response was swift.
“CAP Five One, squawk five one seven eight.”
Alex dialed in the transponder code and hit the IDENT button. Again, the response was swift.
“Radar contact two Northeast of Lewiston at one thousand. Continue present heading. Be advised you have traffic at your two o’clock, a Cessna One Seven Two also heading North…there are several more within a three-mile radius, all involved with the search.” The controller did a good job of vectoring each to their search area.
Alex contemplated the sky for a moment in his traffic scan. The morning had dawned cold and mostly clear, with some wispy cirrus streaming in fast. It was beginning to thicken and lower toward the West. He could well believe that snow might begin before very late. As they flew on, he said a silent prayer.
# # #
Corrie had slept fitfully, as the temperature had continued to drop. She gave up at dawn and put her jacket on. She then wrapped up in the survival blanket. Feeling the need for breakfast, she ate one of the survival meals and drank some water. Opening the door, she stepped out and began searching for a likely place to relieve herself. The dripping water from the limbs had formed a Christmas tree-like collection of icicles on every tree. It looked beautiful, even in her current circumstances. She went about twenty five yards and found a likely spot with a log to help brace against. She put the blanket aside, took off her jacket and laid it on the blanket, unzipped her flight suit and peeled it and her underwear down, and took her position. She had just started, and nearly fell backward when an explosion of bird squawks and feathers flew past right in front of her.
After she got her breathing and heart rate back under control, she was glad she’d brought some toilet paper. The sudden scare had made sure she wouldn’t have to come back to her makeshift latrine for a while.
She got cleaned up, redressed, and wrapped back up in her blanket. As she made her way back, she considered how she might make her location more easily seen. When she arrived at the chopper, she released the rotor brake and moved the main rotor out at a 45° angle from the tail, so the symmetry would catch the eye. She reset the brake and again considered a fire. If she wasn’t found today, she’d have to get one going, as she could tell it wasn’t getting any warmer.
With nothing else to do at the moment, she went inside and closed the door. She remembered she had some emergency candles in her survival bag. She pulled out the can and opened it. The lid had metal tangs to hold a candle and collect the melted wax. Before lighting it, she stepped over and opened the front side window on the leeward side about an inch. Returning to the center of the cargo floor, she put the base, candle inserted, on the floor. In the same area of the bag, she had a box of waterproof matches and a long-tipped butane lighter. She pulled the trigger on the lighter and lit the candle, making certain nothing combustible was nearby. The glow of the flame was cheerful, and soon a bit of the chill eased.
She got back into the sleeping bag and used the silver survival blanket to rig a reflective lean-to between herself and the outside wall. She sat up, leaning against the back of the pilot’s seat. She didn’t intend to fall asleep, as she knew better than to do so with an open flame in use. Still, as she relaxed and watched the candle flicker, her thoughts grew fuzzy. Before drifting off, she thought she heard Alex again, saying, “I’m almost there, hold on.”
She had a smile on her muzzle as she eased into a light, calm sleep.
# # #
The coffee and moving around, plus some water and a lot of words in German he didn’t understand the meaning of, but were probably curse words, had Rex feeling and looking much more presentable by 0800. The only one willing to fly with him had been Steve, the bear he’d befriended as an information source. He was beginning to realize that a lot of folks he’d taken for granted as only useful when he wanted something, were the only ones to show him kindness and forgiveness now.
And then there was Alex O’Whitt. The calmness, the unblinking felid stare. The low, deadly unemotional warning. Even now it chilled him. This was a fur he did not want to cross again, ever. But even in the midst of that, acceptance and…forgiveness. He’d never thought the word meant much, but the way the tiger had said it just left him speechless. He now knew that if…no, when they found Corrinne, he would submit himself to her the same way and confess everything. It didn’t matter anymore. Ruin, prison, whatever. If he didn’t come clean, he’d never live with himself.
“Rex, you ready?” Steve asked from his seat beside the lion in the big Sikorski chopper.
Rousing from his reverie, Rex managed a grin and nodded.
“Yep, let’s go find her.”
With that, he began his engine start checklist, intent on doing what he could to undo what he’d done.
# # #
“Coming back around to zero niner zero, crossing her original flight path in one minute,” Mo called. They were in the search area, so they’d switched over to talk with the CAP Command Post in Portland.
“Copy that Pine Air Five One. You’re almost half way through your grid.”
“Pine Air Five One.”
They continued on. Alex noted a long open spot a couple of miles out to their right.
“Mo, what’s that open space over there?”
The ferret looked over and shrugged. “Not sure, Ice. Long enough to be an old lumber company airstrip. What does the map show?”
Alex double-checked the position on a topographical map Mo had given him.
“All it says is St. Regis Four.”
“That makes sense. The lumber company keeps several of the airstrips up for their use. Think she may have tried to get into there?” the ferret inquired. Alex gave a tilt of his head.
“Could be, but it’s over three miles off her planned course. Worth a look, anyway.”
As they got closer, Alex swept the dirt and gravel strip with his binoculars. The strip looked to be in decent shape, but there was no helicopter nor any disturbance like there’d been an emergency landing there.
“No, nothing there. No sign of any…”
He stopped midsentence, and swept back with the binoculars, unsure of what he just thought he’d seen.
End of Chapter 96