The Buffalo Pilot: A Ford Stevens Military-Aviation Thriller (Book 3)

by Lawrence Colby

  Charlie remembered. “I recall once when we were whitewater rafting, he banged his head. Came to, and wolfed down all these donuts my mom had. I gave him a nickname… Leonardo Wilson. Good times back when we were kids.”

  “That’s the name he used at Wegmans! And down at Arlington at his fake burial site.”

  The men finally made it over, and the introductions began. All of them gave Emily personal hugs, and it was evident that they knew her well. One of them kept his hand on her shoulder.

  “Charlie, I’d like to introduce you to Under Secretary of the Air Force Calvin Burns. He’s also the former deputy director of the Defense Intelligence Agency,” Emily said, gently pointing. “He knew Ford well, and if I understand it, has known the both of you since diapers.”

  They shook hands, then Cal pulled him in for a hug, surprising Charlie.

  “I’m sorry about Ford, Charlie. I’ve known you guys since you were this big,” Cal told him, holding his hand low. “Known your parents since before you were born. My wife and I are very fond of your family.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Secretary. I don’t… I don’t remember meeting you.”

  “I’ve seen you around through the years, Charlie. That’s okay. Maybe at Wu’s funeral at Arlington. You most likely remember when your Dad and I flew at Okinawa,” Cal told him.

  “The one he ejected out of, a burning F-15, when we were kids?”

  “Your father and I were young DIA officers together. Part of our training was seeing aircraft in action in Asia. I was in the backseat of the SR-71 Blackbird watching your dad come overhead that day. We were both getting DIA orientation flights. It was one of the last Blackbird flights ever flown before retirement. I didn’t know at the time which jet your dad was in, but was glad he punched out.”

  Charlie was floored. “Yes, sir, I do remember it well.”

  Emily steered Charlie toward the next introduction. “I’d like to introduce you to Navy Rear Admiral Rocko Cooper, senior military assistant for the secretary of defense, and Mark Savona, China aircraft analyst at DIA.”

  “Hello, admiral. Thank you for coming,” Charlie said.

  “Charlie, the secretary and I wanted to extend our deepest sympathy to you and your family. Ford was a real hero and accomplished the impossible for us on more than one occasion. Above and beyond the call of duty. The secretary is tied up with NATO affairs, or he would have been here himself, but please know we are grateful for his service to our country.”

  Charlie gave his most humble nod, grateful that a Navy admiral flew down from Washington just to tell him that. “Thank you, sir.”

  Turning to Mark now, he squinted. “I do remember you, Mark. You had on red wrestling shoes with your suit for Wu’s funeral, similar to the royal blue ones you have on today. Nice to see you,” Charlie said.

  “Dude! What’s up? Awesome to see you as well, man. Going to miss your bro. Great dude. The best,” he said as he dapped-up Charlie.

  “And Charlie, this is Robert Dooley, an operations officer at DIA. Robert acquired so many items for Ford through the years, his direct actions attributable to our success.”

  In perfect stoic format, Robert lent no emotion. That was just his way.

  “It must have been cool for Ford to work with you guys. Sounds like a few tremendous missions. Glad you could work and fly with him,” Charlie said.

  Cal folded his arms, pointing at Charlie with one hand. “You might have a career in store with us, similar to his. We want you to join our team. Of course, if you pass the interview.”

  “Recruited?” Charlie asked.

  “Ford told us that you were cut from the same cloth as him. Gave you a report full of accolades with flying colors just last week. Said you were one hell of a pilot. Tough. Had innate street smarts, in addition to your critical thinking mind from being a cop. Also said you had good decision-making and were ready for more responsibility.”

  “He did?” Charlie asked. “Wow. Ford. I didn’t know he said those things.”

  Mark nodded at him. “Dude, can you speak Chinese?”

  “Nǐ zěnme kàn. Of course, we used to live in China.”

  The men shot glances at each other.

  Mark continued. “Hanggug-eo hal jul aseyo?”

  Translated into English, Mark asked him if he could speak Korean.

  Charlie laughed. “Chinguga gal su-iss-eo geugeos-e daehae geogjeonghaji masibsio.” Charlie told him, “I can get by, my friend. Don’t worry about it.” In English, Charlie continued.

  “Learned plenty between Okinawa, China, and having a Korean girlfriend a time or two.”

  “Dude, can you fly helicopters?”

  “I’m open to it. Hey, what is this, a job interview right now?” Charlie asked, his legendary wise attitude coming out.

  “Good answer,” Cal said. “You’re going to fit in just fine, Charlie. My card,” he said, handing his business card. “We know how to get ahold of you, so expect us to call one day in the next few weeks. Take your time recovering, Charlie, we know this is a tough go. And Charlie, let’s keep this between us, if that’s okay with you. Any missions we have, I clear it at the chief of Air Force Reserve level. Three-star level. Good with you?”

  Overwhelming to Charlie now, he was impressed at the ask. “Yes, sir. Absolutely.” He was impressed that Ford plowed the way for him, but never mentioned it. “Okay, sir, yeah. I will. It sounds dangerous. Put me in.”

  Chapter 53

  One Week Later

  Western New York

  A week had gone by, and a group of pilots were gathering at the squadron’s Ready Room.

  “Charlie, you coming along?” Zeke asked. “Come join me an ole Grape for the fireworks. We feel confident with the evidence we all collected. Law enforcement got their stuff, and your girl Grace was a tremendous help.”

  “I wouldn’t miss this for anything. You bet I’m coming along.”

  “An old-fashioned takedown. Hold on for the ride. Sure, you want to go, right?”

  “Old-fashioned? You talk like we’re getting into the stagecoach pulled by horses,” Grape said. Only he could get away with such humor against a full-bird colonel.

  “Full throttle him, Zeke. Let’s do this. Grace said the press conference is a go, and he has no idea,” Charlie announced.

  “Perfect, Stevens.” Zeke threw in an unlit cigarette without skipping a beat. “Lesson learned, kid. Watch what you put in a text or on your phone. Never deleted off the servers. Ever.”

  “Yeah. Read like a crime movie. No wonder Ford hated texting.”

  Zeke, Grape, and Charlie made their way outside the squadron building to the parade of law-enforcement vehicles lined up. At least a dozen local and federal sedans were waiting, including uniformed, plainclothes, and civilian officials waiting to go.

  “Jesus, Zeke. Looks like we’re in a theme park parade in Orlando,” Charlie said, opening the door to the sedan.

  “We got more firepower in this parade of cars than the presidential inauguration.”

  The Joint Task Force parade of vehicles pulled in front of the congressman’s Buffalo office and parked by the press vans set up on the street and sidewalk. All the local networks were covering the Anderson press conference on BRAC, live and transmitting out to the world on satellite feeds.

  Jogging into the building along with the flight suited members was Special Agent in Charge (SAC) Dave Mooney, of the FBI Buffalo field office. Once a phone and communications engineer out of Boston, he found his calling later in life with federal law enforcement, wanting to serve his country. Dave and his team of investigators missed little, and they were more than happy to work with the FBI and Zeke on accumulating evidence in support of the base.

  Upon entering the large conference room with high ceilings was the congressman’s security detail lead, Joe, attempting to stop the law-
enforcement parade. The bad apple cop that originally arranged for the Anderson pictures with Nikki.

  “Gentlemen, you can’t go in there. The congressman is hosting a live press conference,” Joe said, holding his hands up.

  “We’ll talk to you in a minute, Joe. We know what you’ve been up to. Step aside and make it easier on yourself,” Mooney said.

  The men all stood in front of the one-person security detail, looking out at Bruce at the podium, reading from his prepared remarks on saving the Niagara Air Base and BRAC.

  Charlie started to shove Joe to the side, attempting to go around him. “Oh, he’s live with the press corps? Fantastic… timing couldn’t be better. Get the hell out of my way.”

  FBI SAC Mooney and Zeke stood on either side of Bruce while he spoke, with Charlie next to Zeke. Bruce looked confused and stopped talking mid-sentence.

  “Special Agent Mooney, hello. Colonel,” Bruce said, nodding. “I’m holding a press conference, live, as you can obviously see.”

  “Good morning, congressman,” Mooney greeted him.

  The press corps started to stir, digital and print reporters alike, tipped off ahead of time to expect a big announcement. They could see the cameramen and women adjusting their positions, waiting for the right moment to capture for history. Grace and Grape gave two thumbs up from behind the bright lights that Charlie and Zeke could see.

  Zeke moved the microphone over to him.

  “Dis mornin’, U.S. Air Force mishap investigators, along with the Federal Bureau of Investigation, concluded their inquiry into mishaps related to the loss of life and aircraft at the Niagara Falls Air Base. United States House of Representatives Congressman Bruce Anderson, 28th congressional district of New York, was working in secret with the Native American organized crime syndicate Niagara Red Kings. In working with the Niagara Red Kings, along with other Native American organized crime leaders across the state of New York, Bruce went along and was the forced hand in the Base Realignment and Closure, or BRAC, process to close the Niagara Air Base. The Niagara Red Kings blackmailed Anderson, forcing the base closed, while Anderson maintained a public persona that he wanted it to remain open,” Zeke said.

  Bruce dropped his head.

  “The Niagara Red Kings, using photos of Anderson and others as leverage, made extensive commercial construction arrangements consisting of chartered business aircraft transportation, a golf course, and a large resort hotel and casino to be built on the federal airbase land. Concurrent arrests this morning include Mr. Daniel Parker and Mr. Ray Parker of the Niagara Red Kings at the Tonawanda Reservation.”

  Mooney leaned into the podium, moving the microphone. “This was a joint task force effort, with extensive evidence collected by Canadian law enforcement, the Bureau of Indian Affairs, and the Department of Homeland Security’s Customs and Border Patrol, in addition to our friends at the Niagara County Sheriff’s Department. Thank you to the professionals at each of these organizations, assisting in the arrest and hopeful prosecution of at least 25 citizens arrested today.”

  “No mistake,” Zeke added, “in addition to Anderson’s actions as an elected member of the House of Representatives, he is responsible for the Niagara heroes killed in the line of duty.”

  Bruce resisted grasping what he was hearing. The red lights on each of the live news cameras were pointed at him, hearing the constant clicking of the high-end press digital cameras.

  The press questions started to all fly in at the same time, peppering Mooney, Zeke, and the congressman. It was an overwhelming scene.

  Charlie could see Grace standing through the bright lights now and stepped out from the front to give her a squeeze. She lifted her buried head from his chest and looked up at him.

  “Nice job, Grace. Thank you. If Ford were back, he’d thank you himself.”

  She closed her eyes, hoping this would end soon. Additional FBI agents were in the room now and up front near the podium, wearing blue jackets that said FBI on their backs with yellow lettering. They put handcuffs on Bruce, ensuring it was captured on live television. They escorted him right out of the building and into the sedans.

  Chapter 54

  Niagara Air Base, Niagara Falls, New York

  Charlie, now a captain, was back on the flight schedule flying the KC-135 a few short days later.

  He grabbed his flight gear just like he always did, went to the flight brief, arranged his headset, flight plan, and helmet bag like he was the ace of the base. He thought for a moment, reflecting on how Ford showed him, having a warm feeling about it.

  Charlie looked down the hall at someone coming in through the front doors, struggling to get into the building. It looked like a new second lieutenant from afar, a young pilot just checking in with gold bars on the shoulders of his flight suit. A second lieutenant was a rare sight anywhere in the military aviation world, and even more rare at Niagara. Charlie saw that the young pilot was looking around once inside the doorway, resembling a fawn without his mother.

  The boot lieutenant’s flight bags hit the glass door on the way in, making a loud ruckus.

  Senior Master Sergeant Angelo Bucca was standing in the same exact spot that he was when Charlie arrived, getting ready to make an announcement over the loudspeaker just as he did for his own arrival.

  Charlie went over to Angelo. “Senior, what do you have, radar for new rookies coming in? If it’s ok with you, I got this one.”

  Angelo laughed and walked away.

  “Kid, you new here?” Charlie asked, walking over to him, stern-faced.

  “Ah, yes. Yes, sir,” he replied. The new pilot looked about 12 years old and scared. Charlie recognized the look.

  “You don’t have a clue, do you?”

  Dropping one of his helmet bags on the floor now, the disheveled lieutenant responded, “I guess not, sir. Having a bit of trouble with all my new gear. I just finished pilot training on Friday.”

  Charlie shook his head in disapproval, the same exact way Ford used to do it to him. But he only did it for a quick moment, giving the new guy a welcoming smile.

  “You don’t have a clue, kid. Come here, I’ll take care of you. Welcome to the squadron.”

  THE END

  Personal Note

  Wu Lee’s health condition was based off my close friend, John, a retired C-130 Delaware Air National Guard pilot and United Airlines pilot.

  He was misdiagnosed multiple times, both in Europe and in the United States, and later passed away after fighting terminal pancreatic cancer for only six short months.

  I appreciate the tremendous outpouring of support from readers who have related to Wu’s condition since writing The Devil Dragon Pilot in 2016.

  From kids sharing stories about their parents to co-workers sharing stories about their friends, I am happy to have helped bring a smile on your face and aid in celebrating their lives.

  If you enjoyed The Buffalo Pilot, it would mean a tremendous amount to me to leave a positive review on Amazon.com.

  Thank you very much.

  All the best,

  Cheese Colby

  About the Author

  Lawrence A. Colby’s Ford Stevens Military-Aviation Thriller Series has been a world-wide bestseller in the United States, India, Canada, United Kingdom and Australia and is published in 12 countries.

  Writing with full authenticity from being part of a small group of pilots that completed both U.S. Navy and U.S. Air Force Undergraduate Pilot Training Programs, he includes real-world action from his experiences.

  Known in the squadrons by the callsign “Cheese”, he is qualified in jets, propeller aircraft, and helicopters, and has completed multiple world-wide deployments.

  He and his family live in the Washington, DC area.

  For a sneak peek at new novels and more, join his mailing list: www.ColbyAviationThrillers.com. For more updates on his
books, join the Facebook page: Facebook.com/ColbyThrillers and Twitter and Instagram (@ColbyThrillers).

  Acknowledgments

  A hearty and grateful thank you to the following individuals for their energy, encouragement, and shared knowledge on a variety of topics that make writing exciting.

  To Jodi, thank you for your love, and everything you have done to take care our family. To Gavin and Brennan, for your outstanding support and attitude, we can accomplish anything together. To Niles D, for your gracious patience on learning about Native Americans. To Níamh O at Daniel O’Connell’s Pub, Alexandria, Virginia, thank you for your support. To Lindsey at Skull Creek Boathouse, Hilton Head Island. To George M, thank you for your strong marketing, support and love. To Woodloch Pines Resort, Hawley, Pennsylvania. To Debbie and Owen, thank you for being such awesome friends. To Alfonse R., thanks for teaching me the ropes for bringing a book to the screen. To Andy and Cali, appreciate your years of kind support. To Slaven at Lima Charlie Reviews- really appreciate your honest reviews for military thriller fans, including my work. To Vern, thank you for being a super fan. To Ginny and Ed, thanks for so many loving years of encouragement. To Alison C at the NY State Robert Moses Visitors Center, thank you for sharing the technical background on the Power Project. Sean M., Dave M., Mitchell B., Bill Y., Neal B, for the reads, conversations and ideas – simply, “thank you!” To Ryan S at The Real Book Spy, thank you for your insight, support and editing. To Sal and Dana at Battle Grounds Coffee/Haverhill, MA, thank you for your book signing hospitality! To William M. at Team Rubicon Global and Dustin S. at The Headstrong Project, for continuing to support our great veterans, long after then return home. To The men and women of the Air Force Reserve and 914th Air Refueling Wing, Niagara Falls, New York. To Russo’s, thank you for your love and encouragement and overwhelming support. To Mom and Dad, for everything.