Bruce was enthralled with the concept. “Work in the Manhattan Project junk about our contribution to World War II. Department of Energy guys over at the Lake Ontario Ordnance Works… those Bell helicopters they won’t tell me about. Some more historical aspects,” he said.
The Department of Energy owned some 200 acres of the original World War II property near Youngstown, New York, bought in the 1940s, and known as the Niagara Falls Storage Site. The site was used for the storing of radioactive materials produced during the development of America’s first atom bombs for the Manhattan Project.
“Richard, add in there Air Guard, Army Guard, Reserves, too. And interagency, like those guys over at Homeland Security… Customs and Border Protection for the bridges to Canada.” Two years ago, Bruce started receiving some one hundred letters and emails a year from constituents complaining about strange, low-flying helicopters around the site. It took his office about six months to figure out they weren’t Defense Department helicopters, but Energy Department Bell 412 helicopters. To this day, he and his office had zero information as to why missions were conducted a few times per month for years. Then one month, they stopped coming and never returned.
Richard took some more notes from the congressman. “Right away, sir. I’ll work with Grace and Holly to get something in front of you soon.”
“Thank you, Richard. The message is ‘save the base.’”
Bruce felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and had the urge to check it. As Richard left, he took it out to see it was from Ray. He tilted his head, bit the inside of his cheek, then read the text.
Ray: we saw the press conference
Ray was transmitting from the pier at his father’s house on Keuka Lake, wearing sunglasses, shorts, and a t-shirt. A boat pulling a few kids on an inflatable tube just passed them, making a small wake and laughing out loud.
The congressman considered ignoring the green text but decided it was as good a time as any to reply.
Anderson: Told you I was working it.
Ray: your progress is slow better happen yo
“Jesus Christ,” Bruce said out loud.
Anderson: It will happen. It’s on the list, just like I said it would be.
Ray: much faster Bruce feel that its the rope round your neck
Ray was smiling now as he thumbed through all his photos and videos on his phone. He selected a raw photo with Nikki and the congressman, attached it, and hit send.
Ray: nice pics hurry yo ass up we getting financing to build
The congressman closed his eyes for a moment and deleted the naked picture that Ray just sent him. How did I miss seeing her taking these shots? Shaking his head, he deleted the entire conversation and loosened his necktie.
Chapter 25
Stevens Residence, Lewiston, New York
Emily watched the news earlier and saw what was passed by the government officials down in Washington. Although more familiar with Parliament and less with the BRAC structure of the U.S. government, she was aware of how the game of politics was played from growing up in the U.K. Worried about packing up and moving another time after just getting settled in with new interior decorations and a few pieces of antique furniture, her mind wondered about the uncertainty. New friends from the community were terrific, great neighbors, and she liked their access to restaurants and bars close by. Emily also enjoyed how far one income could go in this area of the U.S. “Big house, low payment,” her parents told her when visiting from London last year.
Ford came in through their walnut-trimmed doorway to see Emily standing alone and waiting, as she reached out to give him a hug with both arms. She was almost jumping in place.
“I’m sorry, mate. Took a gander about the airbase on the closure list,” she told him, but she wasn’t that sad about it.
“Thanks. People are off the charts upset. We thought maybe we’d be on it but didn’t know until now. These guys will have to have a Plan B if they close it. Move to different units. Get additional jobs… maybe airline jobs,” he paused, looking at Emily a bit more tonight. “It will throw the whole community off.”
He came further into the house, sat down in the sunroom, and took his boots off. “I wish we could do more for the base.” He stretched out his arm around Emily. “What are you up to? You’re acting weird.”
Emily shrugged off Ford’s question. “Are you concerned that we are going to be out of work?”
“Oh, nah. Something else. I’m a full-time Reservist. Air Force Reserve would work some orders to someplace else. Fly at another location. There’s always work to be completed, move more fuel around. Or, as a last resort, a staff job sitting behind a desk.”
As if on cue, a KC-135 flew overhead, departing the base and heading up the river on their departure. The noise was obvious to Emily by now, especially since she knew what to listen for. Faint, louder, then faint once more.
“Hope no desk job, Ford. That would be crushing. Bugger me.”
The news of BRAC made her feel uncomfortable, but she was sure that wasn’t the reason she felt awkward. Different. An additional reason was developing, though, and she wasn’t sure if he could feel it.
“There’s the boys flying over now,” he said as he got up to look out the window. He glanced up to see the jet heading north and climbing out for a mission. “Over Indiana tonight. Pigs. A-10s.”
“Tosh. Ford, come sit next to me. Sit down, luv,” Emily told him. He turned, sat, and she tousled his hair. Emily looked at him, then glanced down, and back into his eyes.
“What? Emily, why are you acting so odd?” Ford asked, observing Emily and wondering what was going on.
“Ford.”
“Yes. Em. I’m right next to you. What is it?”
She hesitated but announced with joy, “Ford, I’m pregnant.”
Chapter 26
Charlie Stevens’ Apartment, Lewiston, New York
From the outside, the new apartment that Charlie rented looked nice. The building had nice landscaping, ample parking, and was located close to the base for getting to work.
On the inside, it was a total bachelor pad. The dishes were not done on a regular basis, the place needed to be cleaned, and the laundry picked up. Not to mention he had paper posters hanging with thumbtacks, which was something most people stopped doing after college.
It was kind of trashy, but Grace drank her chardonnay from the red plastic cup that Charlie gave her. She accepted it and didn’t comment on it, but her facial expression said it all. Wearing cut-off denim jean shorts and sandals, Charlie figured she was in summer wear already, so why not add an outdoor cup.
They stood talking and having a drink in his new rental apartment while Charlie talked about many things under the sun. Wearing a pink tank top and red bright red nail polish to join her cut-off shorts, she was made-up to impress tonight.
Listening to Charlie go on about Congressman Anderson, she wandered over to the plastic book case and looked at his police academy photos and beach photos.
“Charlie, he wants to help. A lot. Has the entire staff working, for the most part, on the base issue. Most of our time is spent on it. Hard work doing the coordination and everything.”
Grace thought about her words but realized she didn’t sound that convincing.
“I mean, we have a busy office. Lots of real estate, all hot topics, plus all his duties down in Washington.”
“What’s a day like? Even better, what’s he spending the most amount of time on?” Charlie asked, taking another drink.
Grace thought about it for a moment. “Well, as of late, it’s Native Americans. Reservation issues, I guess. Don’t know all the specifics. Richard and the congressman have been spending a lot of time in that topic area, like, a new pop-up priority or something.”
“Native Americans? Huh. Okay…” Charlie said, his voice drifting off.
&nb
sp; Grace finished her wine and looked at him, smiling. Almost grinning. A different expression than he was used to seeing, but Charlie wasn’t getting it. The gesture was blocked by his brain. Her signal was being transmitted, but he was too involved in the base topic to receive.
“Grace, tell me more. I’d like to help out. Ford introduced me to your senior legislative guy, Richard Lansing. Good guy. Gave me a great tour of our maintenance squadron. I need to get involved,” Charlie said.
“Oh, Richard is just,” Grace rolled her eyes, “out there. I mean, like, left field. When he is up in New York for our work, get this, he lives with his mother. Can you imagine? He’s over 50 and lives in his mom’s basement. Never married. When he’s down in D.C., he lives alone in Dupont Circle. You wouldn’t catch me anywhere near either one of his scary houses. One time he wanted me and Holly to come over after some drinks at Bullfeathers on the Hill, and we were like, no way. We said we’re busy tonight, and, like, you’re a creepy weirdo. Just the way he ogled, er, glared at Holly, when we told him no.”
Charlie liked him and spent time in the hangar learning about the aircraft.
“His mother? That’s serial killer-like. Huh.” Congressman must trust him, after all. “Seems like he runs the show for your office, though… what’s he up to with saving the base? Is the congressman fighting the BRAC Commission on this?”
As he spoke, Charlie missed every visual cue Grace shot him. She listened to everything he said, but what she really wanted was for him to ask about her.
Charlie paced as he talked, something that must have run in the Stevens family. But as Charlie looked closer at Grace, she looked like she was growing tired of his yammering. Charlie looked closer at her, especially her legs, and if there was one thing that would shut him up from talking, it appeared tonight she was using it to her advantage.
Grace walked from his small kitchen into his living room, grabbed his hand with her long, manicured nails, and pulled him down into her arms and onto the couch. She gave him a long, passionate kiss that surprised him, catching him off guard.
Grace’s superpowers took hold of Charlie, and there was no more talking about the base for the rest of the night.
Chapter 27
Congressman Bruce Anderson’s Office, Buffalo, New York
The next morning brought heavy rain to Buffalo, as well as the rest of western New York. The congressman stared out at the slow traffic and puddles, watching the wiper blades sway on the sedans ferrying lobbyists around the Hill. He sat at his office desk and thumbed through his contacts and placed a call to former Congressman Al King, his connection at the BRAC Commission.
After some small talk, Bruce started to lay into him. He had a tough sales job ahead and knew of one way to get something this big pushed through.
“Al, I voted for your stupid Voting Act and the soda straw farce when you were in office. Save the Turtles, whatever the hell it was called. Then, you had the immigration waste of time. Let’s not forget the Space Force push that only a handful in national security wanted. Don’t say you’re not going to support me. Niagara must stay on the list… I said close that Niagara base. Get that commissioner Matthews on board.”
“Bruce, I don’t get it. This is in your district. It’s your primary employer. Thousands of jobs for voters. Big money flows in there. They will never elect you next cycle. It’s political suicide.”
Bruce pulled the phone away from his ear for a second, as he felt it vibrate. His wife Janice was beeping in on the call, which angered Bruce more. What kind of timing does she have?
“Al, I don’t need your judge lecturing. I know what I’m doing. Save one of those other damn bases, but Niagara stays on the list to close. You owe me big time, and I’m calling it in. I don’t give a horsecrap what is presented by Air Force Reserve or the base itself, close that thing down. First round!” Bruce told him, agitated.
The congressman was loud, and now wondered if Grace was in the outer office working at her desk. If so, she’d hear him yelling from outside the door.
“Shorten the frickin’ public hearings if you need to. Blame it on sloppy airplane flying and killing pilots. Destroying airplanes and fires. I don’t know, and I don’t care…” Bruce told him, calming down after a quick breather. “Am I clear?”
“But, Bruce, we have a process to follow. You’re well aware of the rules and procedures in the commission.”
“I’m done talking, Al. You don’t do this, and you can kiss your next election and any future legislation good-bye. I’ll personally kill your bills by calling up the party leaders. The entire House, if I need to. You’ll never see another election or party dollar in this club. Ever.”
There was silence on the other end of the phone, then a hesitant statement. “Ok, Bruce,” he said, swallowing, “it will close. Niagara stays on the list and closes down.”
Richard walked in with Grace after Bruce hung up the phone and announced they would like to review the press release from their office.
“Congressman, this will be picked up on all the local print and news channels, in addition to a release on social media accounts. It will be only a short matter of time before the press will want to do an interview and a full press conference,” Grace told him.
“And sir, per our last meeting, the message being relayed is that Congressman Bruce Anderson is doing everything he can to save the base,” Richard added. “Everything humanly possible.”
And from the look on Grace’s face, Bruce figured she must have been listening. Puzzled at what she just heard from Richard, combined with what she heard from the congressman, she adjusted the papers in her hand, then dropped them clumsily on the floor. She looked up at Richard while kneeling down to pick them up, and Bruce saw them staring at each other, up and down. Damn it, she must have heard me. Grace gave an uncomfortable look as their eyes met, then he shifted his view to Richard.
Without saying anything, the three of them now all knew the efforts to save the base were a big, fat, lie.
Chapter 28
Fort Niagara State Park, New York
Good splits on the timing, Ford thought as he completed his fourth mile on the run this late afternoon, verifying off his watch. Huffing, he enjoyed getting out to exercise and do some stress release. He treasured listening to “The Ric Edelman Show” personal finance podcast, his go-to advisor of investing and finance. Listening to callers with massive credit card debt and questions on refinancing and investments, Ric always gave excellent advice to his listeners. Ford continued to put the running miles in with his route, heading north along the river to the Fort Niagara State Park. Sometimes to see an old friend or two along the way, then back to his house in Lewiston.
Ford’s watch vibrated, and he saw an email from Zeke, asking him to call when he had a chance. He made a note of it and continued with his run home.
Emily was waiting for him in the sunroom, dressed to go out. She had felt great these last few weeks despite the morning sickness and was energetic and enthusiastic about going out to dinner with Ford and a few guests.
“Ford, hurry, mate. Get in the shower. We’re grabbing some nosh with Charlie and his new lady friend, Grace. Leaving in 25 minutes for Water Street Landing.”
“We are? What? That chick from the congressman’s office?” Ford said, laughing, knowing exactly who she was.
Ford breezed through his shower and got dressed, and they left for the restaurant.
Thirty minutes in, dinner was going well sitting on the casual side of the interior restaurant, with the four of them getting to know each other more. Charlie took it easy with the booze, but Grace followed her own drinking agenda. Ford thought the timing was about right since they were finished with dinner, so he shared what was on his mind.
“Grace, can you share a couple stories… tell us what’s going on with the efforts to keep us off the BRAC list?” Ford asked.
; “I know, I asked the same thing the other day,” Charlie added.
Grace sipped her wine as she appeared to think about her answer. “The congressman and the rest of the team are planning a press conference to discuss this important topic. Will be down in D.C. this week, a full presser. He is working above and beyond to get things accomplished. Working the phones. Full-time,” she told them.
Inquisitive, Ford wanted more. “So, what details can you share? What can we do on our end?” He wanted to be more aggressive and lean forward. “Does he need more data?”
Grace’s wine must have kicked in by now because Emily gave the boys a nod, as if Grace was ready to spill the beans. “Nappy, are ya?”
“He doesn’t need more data. What he needs is a good, swift kick in the ass!” Grace announced, laughing.
Charlie flat out started laughing, too. “For what? What’s he up to?”
Burping, Grace let it fly. “Well. For starters. I heard him on his personal phone the other day. Yelling.”
“Okay. That’s pretty normal. People yell sometimes. Why is that significant?” Ford asked.
“Well, he was talking to Al King. Do you know him, former congressman? He’s one of the nine appointed?” Burrrp was heard. “Sorry, excuse me… to the BRAC Commission.”
Charlie looked at her. “He was yelling at him to keep the base open for us?”
Grace waved her hands in a no fashion, like doing the safe signal at a baseball game. “No! That’s just it. Just the opposite.”
Emily jumped in now. “Grace. The congressman was yelling at King to close the base?”
“Yes, yes. That is exactly what I am saying. He and Richard must know something about it because… I know what I heard. And they didn’t say anything about it to me.”
The Buffalo Pilot: A Ford Stevens Military-Aviation Thriller (Book 3) Page 15