by M. Alan Marr
“I think so too,” Harrison says. “I love it there.”
“Guys, today is Monday,” Steve says. “The boys are waiting on us to decide when we can leave.”
This is, again, new territory for a crew largely used to owners and schedulers dictating their agenda rather than asking for consensus.
“They’re actually waiting on us?” Harrison says. “That’s . . . really cool of them.”
Everyone agrees they can comfortably depart Friday. That includes provisioning the airplane, getting all the prep work done, shopping and devising menus for the trip, and gathering all their bills and scheduling visits to the law firm. Steve can’t really tell them not to go through the effort of provisioning for the months-long voyage without arousing suspicion. Plus, he figures the work will take their minds off of the speculation.
***
Dev spends the next few days in and out of the attorneys’ office, individually authorizing the crew’s payment schedules and signing off on their expenses. Their salaries will be electronically paid twice monthly, and the firm will make regular checks on their residences while they are away. Steve also set up automatic payments to be sent to his parents in Florida. As far as anyone knows, they will all be away on business. The lawyers also drafted the new confidentiality addendum acknowledging the terms of the business trip, which each crew member (minus Steve) had to sign.
Chaz goes through normal channels at work and puts in two requests: first, a transfer to Triad Airline’s Seattle pilot base. Second request, a personal leave of absence for six months, both of which are granted. Beginning Saturday, Chaz will officially be on unpaid leave for six months. He figures five months for training up on the Crown, and one extra month to get settled in Seattle. Settled, meaning fully operational. The leave of absence makes this whole proposition all the more real for Chaz.
The visits to the law firm make the trip a little more real for each member of the Oasis crew as well. They are leaving for several months and will not be able to communicate with anyone. The lawyers make it abundantly clear that violating the terms of the new confidentiality agreement would mean summary termination and forfeiture of contract.
The crew trusts their employers, even though they think these measures seem a little draconian. Steve does his best to ease their concerns, but it is a tough sell. The crew also spends time readying their residences to be unoccupied. The days leading up to the trip also involve a lot of phone calls to family and friends, bidding them farewell and reassuring everyone that all is well, even if they aren’t convinced of that themselves. Emergency contacts are left with the attorneys, so in the event of family tragedy, the law firm will contact Dev by e-mail. Dev’s penthouse computer, in turn, will route those e-mails through the Tertian relay buoy and across the cosmos to his Ti-Phone. Lastly, arrangements are made to have the crew’s vehicles transported and waiting for them at the new estate near Seattle.
***
WEDNESDAY
Steve had the idea of moving the floatplane from Hartsfield to a small general aviation airfield to further help cover their tracks. He found a quiet little airport with a maintenance shop out in the sticks called Whitley Field. Short runway, very quiet, and far from prying eyes. And the maintenance shop at the little airport is the perfect cover. Steve makes the short flight in the Beaver solo, and tasks Harrison with picking him up.
Whitley Airfield is a throwback to general aviation of the past. An all but forgotten little airstrip overgrown with weeds and aging propeller planes, many of which are no longer airworthy. The small wooden hangar has a few operational aircraft nearby, flown in specifically for the maintenance shop for engine overhauls and annual inspections. The sound of the Beaver’s radial engine arouses the attention of the shop’s aging proprietor as he works on an aircraft inside the old hangar. The old man has a weathered face with deep lines, and looks like a regular fixture of the airfield. He stops work and watches the Beaver land from the open hangar door, his lined face brightening with a slight smile as he listens to the unique and rhythmic chug-a-chug from the Beaver’s ancient cylinders.
Steve taxis the Beaver to the ramp near the maintenance shop and adds power to swing the airplane around and then cuts the engine. The large three-blade prop jerks to a stop. As Steve climbs out of the plane, the old mechanic approaches, his wrinkles bending outward in a wide smile.
“A 1948 DHC-2, De Havilland Beaver,” the old man says to Steve. “Wasp radial engine. Four hundred and fifty horses. Displacement of nine hundred eighty-five cubic inches. What a beauty.”
“That she is,” Steve replies. “Steve Fitzgerald.”
“Fred Baker. What can I do you for?”
“Today, just some tie-down space.”
“Space we got,” Fred says.
Steve looks around at the small group of old general aviation prop planes and crop dusters. Some are just wrecks. Many of the planes have bird’s nests built in the engine intakes, indicating they’ve been sitting there for a very long time. Most of these planes haven’t been airborne in ages, and some never will be again. Steve also sees the paint-peeled aircraft mechanic sign on the hangar door with Fred Baker listed as the proprietor.
Steve raises his eyebrows. “Ever work on radials?”
The old man laughs. “Sonny, in my day, that’s all we had. I cut my teeth on the PBY Catalina in Pearl Harbor. Got a little piece of one still stuck in my hip.”
“Ouch. How’d that happen?”
“Pearl Harbor.”
“Ah,” Steve says, and tries to cover his gaffe. “PBY, huh?” He adds, “Consolidated Aircraft Corporation. First flight, 1935.”
The old man is impressed. “Yessir.”
“I studied that in A&P school.”
“You’re an A&P? Need a job?”
Steve laughs. “These days, I’ve got a flying job. But I’d be happy to have you work on the De Havilland.”
“Son, that would make an old man very happy. I still have my original tools. The new stuff is good, but old stuff is better on a beauty like this.”
“She just had a hundred-hour inspection, but I’ll bring her back for the next one and anything else that crops up with it.”
Fred walks around the Beaver, assessing her. “Fresh coat of paint.”
“It is. But right now, I just need a tie-down for a couple of days.”
“You can park her over there, if you’d like. Fifty dollars a day too much?”
Steve takes out his wallet and hands the man a hundred dollars. “Sounds fair.”
“Want a receipt?”
“Nah, you look trustworthy.” Steve looks around. “You the only one here?”
“Yessir, weekdays it’s usually just me and the relics, unless someone is bringing in their plane for me to work on. My boy used to work with me, but he got married and took a job with a fancy airline to work on the jumbos. There used to be a flight school here back in the day, but it went belly-up in the nineties. Weekends used to see some activity, but nowadays, we just get a couple of old-timers here on Sundays after church. Hell, they can’t even fly anymore. Mostly, we just stand around drinking bad coffee and telling war stories.”
“Still,” Steve says, looking around, “there’s something special about little airports like this.”
“Yessir.”
Steve looks down the short line of airplanes in the grass. “I’ll just pull her over there?”
“Anywhere you’d like,” the man says. “That last spot on the right has all its tie-downs.”
“Sounds good,” Steve says. “Well, I’ll let you get back to work. Good to meet you, Fred.”
Steve climbs back up into the Beaver, opens the side window, and shouts a quick, “Clear.”
The old man stands back and watches as the big radial engine roars to life with a thick belch of smoke. As Steve advances the power and taxis to the parking space, the old man turns around and sees a car driving in. It is Harrison, in the crew car. He gets out and says hi to the old man.
“Help you?”
“Just here to pick him up,” Harrison says.
“Yessir.”
Harrison starts to walk toward the Beaver when the old man calls out to him.
“Be careful of that prop, young feller.”
“Yes, sir,” Harrison replies kindly. He reaches the Beaver just as Steve shuts the engine down.
“How’d you find this place?” Harrison says as Steve climbs down.
“Guy here who works on radials,” Steve replies. “These old engines require a delicate touch and the hand of experience.”
“That guy looks like he was around when they were invented. Look at this collection of junk.”
“Classics, Harr, classics.”
“Well, these classics all need a paint job. And some glue.”
Steve and Harrison secure the Beaver and drive back to Atlanta.
At the same time Steve was repositioning the Beaver, Dev and Chaz make an appointment at Donovan & Clarke, Dev’s interior designer, regarding a new project. To say that Donovan gushed over his favorite client doesn’t even begin to cover it.
“I’m delighted you called.”
“We are going to be travelling for the next five months.” Chaz says. “But we’re giving you carte blanche. The only proviso being you have to complete the work by the time we get back.”
“That should more than enough time.”
Dev chimes in. “The only other stipulation is that I’ll need the study and the two garages equipped with large flat-screen TVs.” He adds, “Oh, and the kitchen is enormous. I’d like you to make sure the kitchen is fully outfitted with everything my chef, Franz, may possibly require.”
“Will your chef be available for me to speak to?”
“No, he will be traveling with us.”
“Not to worry, I have a wonderful kitchen consultant.”
“Good.”
“How large is the house?”
“Main house is fifteen thousand square feet, plus there’s a staff house and stable.”
Donovan smiles. “I’m going to have to hire some new employees.”
“Whatever you need to do.”
“Oh, and where is the new property?” Donovan asks.
“North of Seattle,” Dev replies.
Donovan is stunned. “Seattle . . . as in Washington State?”
“Two hours north, actually.”
Donovan nearly falls over. But there is no way he can pass this up. “Wow.”
“Can you do it?”
“I absolutely can. I’ll need to fly up there and look at the place, get a general idea what I have to work with, but yes, sir. I can do it.”
Dev explains that his attorneys have his proxy and will be Donovan’s direct point of contact over the next five months. Donovan, in turn, will take up residence at the estate while the project is underway. For Donovan, this project means taking his business bicoastal.
On the way back to the Gillespie, Chaz receives a message from Triad Crew Scheduling asking if he can do a quick trip to LAX tonight with single leg return to Atlanta tomorrow. He doesn’t really think he should leave at this point, but Dev encourages him to take the flight, since this would be the last Triad trip for quite some time. Chaz agrees, and returns the phone call to accept the flight assignment.
THURSDAY
Steve has been in almost constant contact with the crew, who are busily packing extra bags for their long journey and making multiple stops at the aircraft. Matt and Harrison stock the crew deck with their DVD collections, which now contain a lot of action films and musicals.
Matt picks up one of Harrison’s movies. “I can’t believe you own the Sound of Music.”
“Hey, that Von Trapp girl was hot.”
“She was sixteen, pervert.”
“Going on seventeen! Besides, the actress that played her was twenty-three.”
Matt laughs. “Yeah, well, I thought Rolf was hot until he became a Nazi.”
They stow all the DVDs and then print up an extra movie list in case Dev or Chaz would like to watch anything from the crew collection.
Matt checks his watch. “I have to go. It’s my turn with the lawyers. See you later.”
“Later, bud.”
Dev works on his computer, making certain there will be no diplomatic issues with everyone spending five months (in theory) in New Zealand. With minimal use of his advanced features, N-Zed immigration should happily welcome everyone for their long stay in Auckland.
The Gillespie doormen arrive at the penthouse to collect the entire ‘Louis Vuitton collection’ of luggage, which has not only doubled, but now includes six large steamer trunks. The bags and trunks contain everything from Dev and Chaz’s closets. Multiple trips are needed to bring the everything down to the waiting Jet Support van for transport to the aircraft.
chapter 13
STARS ON THE RISE
☆ ☆
FRIDAY
2200 HOURS (10 pm)
JET SUPPORT RAMP - ATL
RAIN SHOWERS IN THE AREA
The forward cargo hold of the Oasis 767 cargo door is stacked with, crew bags, steamer trunks, and overflow luggage that didn’t fit in the Owners Suite closet. The ramp is spattered with water from the scattered rain showers that have been falling all day. A belt loader and ramp crew send up all the provisions during a temporary break in the rain. The mid-deck entry door of the aircraft is being used tonight, rather than the normal main cabin door and airstairs truck.
Steve is outside supervising the last of the loading in the forward cargo hold. Franz is in the hold checking off all the boxes. Milo quickly stacks the cases along the bulkheads so they don’t get overrun. Now that everything is aboard, Franz and Milo begin the task of moving all the provisions to the galley. Steve is nervously tapping his pen back and forth against his portfolio. He is, for the first time, worried. His Ti-Phone rings. It is Dev calling.
“Yes, sir.”
“Are you ready for this?”
“I hope so.”
“Have faith, Steve. You have a great crew.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Package is on its way. See you in three days. Safe flight.”
Steve waits until Franz and Milo are out of the cargo bay and the interior door is closed before he tells the ground crew there will be a delay. He sends them back to the terminal to wait for his call for engine start. Steve closes the cargo door and secures the exterior panel. It starts pouring again, so Steve hurries inside the aircraft for his rain gear.
The aircraft is fully fueled and ready to go. The rain is coming down pretty hard now, which should keep the crew inside the jet. Likewise, the downpour has the ramp personnel taking shelter inside the business jet terminal.
Harrison and Jen enter the flight deck a few minutes later to run the initial cockpit setup checklist, as they will be flying the outbound leg. Steve knew he would (and does) have way too much on his mind to fly tonight, so earlier in the week he assigned outbound leg to Harrison and Jen.
Checklist complete, Harrison sees the headlights of a vehicle approaching from the gate and makes a PA announcement that the owners are arriving.
A black SUV drives up to the aircraft near the lower entry door. Steve hurries down the main stairs behind the upper galley, then down the mid-deck stairs to meet the vehicle. He opens the rear passenger door, where only a small Tertian cargo box sits on the seat. Steve grabs the box and thanks the driver. The SUV departs a moment later. Anyone inside the business jet terminal seeing the vehicle will assume the aircraft owners just arrived, but the rain and darkness effectively covers the fact that no one actually got out of the car.
Steve boards the aircraft and activates the switch in the stairwell. The door motor engages, folding the stairs in half, before the lower boarding door begins to close. Up in the flight deck, Harrison and Jen see on the status screen that the mid-deck door is in motion. Fifteen seconds later, the door graphic shows closed and locked. Steve left word that once th
e aircraft is buttoned up, the terms of the confidentiality agreement would live, so they were told to make any last-minute phone calls to friends and family before that.
Steve climbs the main stairs, where Franz and Annette are waiting with champagne. Steve walks right past them, taking the small cargo box to the Captain’s Quarters. Along the way, he turns his head back slightly. “Franz, call everyone to the upper galley.”
“Yes, s—” The door to the Captain’s Quarters closes before Franz is able to finish answering.
Franz and Annette look at each other with confusion. Harrison made the PA the owners are arriving, but where are they? Franz looks down the stairwell for the boys, and then picks up the upper galley interphone and selects PA and makes the call for everyone to meet. Steve places the cargo box in his closet, and then hangs up his wet rain gear on the back of the door. He gives the crew a minute or so to get in position, then he grabs his portfolio, takes a deep breath, and leaves his quarters. The crew is assembled, and wondering what’s up. The muttering quiets as Steve approaches.
“All right, guys, we have a slight change of plan. First, though, let me get your status reports.”
Everyone seems to answer quickly, so they can get to the heart of what’s going on.
“Main Galley ready,” Franz says.
“Upper galley ready,” Annette reports.
“State-a rooms ready,” Milo says.
“Preflight complete. No issues,” Matt reports.
“Flight deck ready, Steve,” Harrison says.
Jen folds her arms. “Now for the bad news . . . ”
“Okay, guys, thanks,” Steve says, dismissing Jen’s comment.
“Where are the boys?” Franz says.
Steve doesn’t answer Franz’s question. “All right, the doors are all closed. Per the new confidentiality agreement, we are now officially incommunicado. From this point onward, no phone calls, no e-mails, no texts, no online chats. Violating the terms of the agreement will result in immediate termination of employment and forfeiture of contract.”
“We know,” Jen says with attitude.