The Oshkosh Connection
Page 18
Karen absolutely loved the thrill of going up and hearing the full-throated sound of her three-hundred-horsepower engine as she yanked and banked the aircraft into submission. It was like riding a roller coaster but actually being in control.
As she marched towards her post-flight reception tent, she saw that the line of fans coming to get her autograph and picture wound around the VIP tent over one hundred feet away. She noticed several old ladies in line with their husbands, eying her like she was the Leg Lamp from the movie A Christmas Story. Well, maybe she was. But sex sells. And she challenged anyone else performing at the air show to pull a tighter split-S than her.
“Is that her?” Renee asked Max.
Mr. King said, “Yup. My boys are big fans. I tried to get them to come with me to the aerospace engineering lecture that’s scheduled now, but they seemed to want to get her autograph instead. I don’t see why. One of Burt Rutan’s engineers is going to be here.”
Max said, “It’s a mystery.”
Renee and Max bade farewell to Mr. King and walked over towards the air show’s VIP tent, watching as Karen Becker finished up signing autographs.
Karen was a stunner. Max didn’t realize he was wearing a silly schoolboy smile until Renee elbowed him. He turned to face her. “What? Did you say something?”
She rolled her eyes.
Trent appeared out of nowhere. “There you guys are. Our rental car is parked in the grass lot, and I’ve got all the supplies we need. What are you guys looking at…?” Trent followed their gaze. “Holy mother of mercy…”
Renee said, “Well, I see we’ve found the Medusa of Oshkosh. Ugh. If that’s what men are really looking for, then I give up. For a moment I thought she was one of those models hired by an advertising firm or something. You know, the kind that stand there smiling next to the racers at the Formula One or walk across the ring at a boxing match. Are you telling me that she was the one who was just flipping and rolling above their heads? I guess I have to give her a little respect, but why in God’s name would she wear an outfit like that?”
Max said, “I’m just going to keep my mouth shut.”
Renee patted him on the chest. “Good idea.”
Karen Becker emerged from a crowd of smiling fans. Max tried not to look at what was probably the most marvelous décolletage ever to appear in a flight suit—if flight suit was indeed what you called the tight-fitting pink outfit that Karen had painted on her—but that proved challenging. Max remembered that she had always been a looker, but it had been a while since they’d last seen each other.
Karen had been a fling. They had been introduced by their fathers years ago at one of these air shows—her father a prominent politician and a strong advocate for the aviation industry, his father an aviation industry CEO and icon.
Karen had many such flings, Max suspected. He was just another notch on her belt. Which was a funny thing to say about a woman, he thought. But Karen was a unique woman. A wild and sexy thrill-seeker. A beautiful and buxom…
“Uh-hum.”
Max realized that he was staring at Karen again, and Renee was staring at him. The damn permasmile had returned, too. The same look seemed to have afflicted all of the other men within twenty feet of Karen, most of whose spouses were rolling their eyes or shaking their heads.
“So are you going to go talk to her or what? She’s your ticket to meet her father, right?”
“You know, to be honest, I’m not even sure that she’ll remember me.”
“Max!”
Karen waved excitedly from across the taxiway, jogging towards them, bouncing and jiggling as she did so. One man nearby was mid-sip on a soft drink and began coughing, then looked away.
Before Max knew it, he was being wrapped in Karen’s arms, her chest mashed up against him. Renee stood quietly by his side, tongue in cheek, her face a mix of jealousy and amusement. Max imagined laser beams from her eyes carving into the back of his skull.
When Karen finally released Max, she shot out her hand, saying in a sweet voice, “Hello, I’m Renee.”
“Oh, hello, I’m Karen. I’m sorry, I didn’t know Max was with anyone.”
She stuck out her hand, and Renee shook firmly, looking her square in the eye. Two female spiders, ready to fight over a mate before they killed him and devoured him for dinner.
Renee said, “And how long have you known Max?”
“Oh, we go way back. Right, Max? What would you say? Ten years at least. Was that when you were at Princeton?”
“Oh, how interesting.” Renee’s eyes squinted, her face bunched up into a forced smile. Max and Renee had also met while they were at Princeton. Max looked at Renee with pleading eyes, thinking he might have been safer back in Mexico.
“That’s right,” Max began. “Our fathers are friends, and they introduced us at one of these air shows back when they were here on business. And that’s how Karen and I met…and became friends.”
Trent, who had remained silent until now, stuck his thumb backward, saying, “So I got that shovel back with the camping supplies…”
Renee mercifully moved on. “So, Karen, that was you performing just now?”
Karen said, “Yes, that’s right. This is my first time at Oshkosh. I’ve been doing the lesser-known air show circuit for years now. But this is as good as it gets.”
Max said, “Renee, Karen’s father is Senator Becker, of Wisconsin. Around here they joke that this is his air show. He’s been a huge proponent of general aviation and the aviation industry since he’s been in Congress.”
“Oh, yes, Dad is famous here. But I’ve been hoping that maybe if I do a good enough job, I can outshine him someday.”
“And where is your father? I assume he’s coming.”
“Oh yes, he wouldn’t miss this for the world. He’s back in Washington for a vote but promised to catch my Thursday performance.”
They talked for a moment longer, with Trent asking such deep questions as how Karen liked being an air show pilot. Max had to admit that he was impressed. Aerobatic flying at this level was no joke. She was all at once a top-level entertainer, athlete, and aviator. So whatever he thought of her on a personal level, he respected her professionally.
Karen said, “Well, let’s make our way into the VIP tent. I’ve got the night off, and I don’t perform again for another two days. That means I’m having a cocktail.”
Trent made an excuse and headed back to the campground. He whispered to Max that he wanted to scout out the area a bit more.
Renee, Max, and Karen walked into the tent, and Max saw several aviation business executives he knew through his father, a few A-list actors that he knew to be general aviation aficionados, and a lot of people in flight suits. They made the rounds, Max introducing Renee to the people he knew from his father’s network.
The VIP tent was closed off from the outside and had a mildly effective air-conditioning unit, but people were coming in and out of the plastic curtain door so often that it was still quite warm. The grass floor had a thick coat of hay to avoid getting too muddy. The atmosphere reminded him of a horse race.
Except for the noise. There was always the drone of aircraft overhead. Right now, it sounded like a crazed bumblebee. Out of one of the tent’s transparent patches, they could see an aircraft doing spins, one after the other, puffy white smoke trailing from behind.
Max grabbed them all drinks from the bar. They gathered around a tall cocktail table that was affixed to the grass with stakes.
“Wow. That looks pretty dangerous,” Renee said, looking up at the plane. “Do you do all that, Karen?”
Karen said, “I’ll do quite a few spins, yes. I have one part of my routine I’ll do this week where I basically go up to eight thousand feet and spin until I get close to the ground, then I chop a ribbon in half with the prop. First time I took Max up like that, he puked all over my aircraft. He ever tell you about that?”
“Oh, you’ve flown together, too? No, he didn’t mention it. I’m
sure there’s a lot that he left out.” Renee shot Max another look. “If you will excuse me, I’m going to run to the ladies’ room.”
When Renee was gone, Max swore that Karen moved a few inches closer to him, and her tone became a bit more mischievous. “You’re not exclusive with her, are you, Max?”
Max laughed nervously. “I have to admit, it is getting kind of serious.”
“The single women of the world shall weep. And probably some married ones too.” She winked. “Well, don’t worry. I’ll behave.”
“I appreciate that.”
Just then, the tarp entrance of the tent opened and in walked a tall white-haired man, followed by two men in suits. The members of the VIP tent gave a slight cheer.
One of them said, “There he is!”
Max’s father had arrived.
Renee was delighted that Charles Fend had shown up. Max expected that he might see him here, but he hadn’t spoken to his father since last week, and at the time Oshkosh wasn’t something Max had planned on attending.
“Hello, son.”
“Hi, Dad.”
Father and son embraced, and then Charles held Renee by the shoulders, beaming at her like she was his long-lost daughter. More like his dream potential daughter-in-law. Charles’s increasingly effusive worship of Renee over the last year was an embarrassing hint to Max that his father thought they should get married. Renee adored him right back, and the two had developed a sort of annoying teaming-up-on-Max relationship.
“Has he been treating you well?”
“It’s been an adventure,” she said. “But Max is always the gentleman.”
“Good. You’ll tell me if he ever hints at trouble. I’ll make sure to disown him.”
Renee laughed.
Charles turned to Karen. “Ah, Miss Becker, you are a vision in pink.” He took her hand and kissed it.
Karen gave a toothy grin. “Good to see you again, Mr. Fend. My father will be here tomorrow. I’m sure he’ll want to say hello.”
“Excellent. How is your father? I’ve seen him on the news. Horrible circumstances, I’m afraid.”
“Yes, well…he’s got security assigned to him now, so I feel better about it.”
Max said, “Oh yes, I saw that on the news. They say his chief of staff was killed? What happened? Is your father okay?”
Karen nodded somberly. “It’s still being investigated. He asked me not to talk about it until the investigation is over.”
“Oh, of course.”
Charles stood erect and proper, listening closely, genuine concern in his voice. “Well, if there is anything I can do to help…”
Charles Fend’s presence in the tent was felt by every one of the attendees, many of whom were clamoring to speak with him about a business proposal, or to get their picture taken alongside him. While Karen Becker might have been dazzling, Charles Fend was world-famous.
“If you’ll excuse me, dear, I shall make my obligatory rounds. Max, Renee, why don’t we plan on meeting up for brunch?”
“Sounds great,” Renee answered, and Charles left their circle.
Renee squeezed Max’s arm. “We should probably get back and set up our tent. Was there anything else you wanted to do here?”
Max turned to Karen. “You said your father is arriving tomorrow?”
“That’s right.”
“Perhaps I could say hello.”
“Of course. Just find me tomorrow—or text me. My number is still the same.”
Max and Renee said their goodbyes to Karen and then walked out of the tent. They walked through the main static display area in silence. An enormous concert stage was being set up. A crowd of thousands had gathered around it.
Renee said, “This place is impressive.”
“Are you mad about Karen?”
“Do I have a reason to be?”
“No.”
“Then don’t be silly. Of course not. Like you said, we need her to gain access to her father.”
“Although it sounds like my father will be with the senator too.”
Max wondered if that was a coincidence. Caleb Wilkes had once run his father as well. Charles Fend had been a CIA asset during the Cold War, helping the American government to pass on false information to the Soviets. And as Max had learned last year, Wilkes still called on him from time to time. When Wilkes had recruited Max, he had been cast as the replacement agent for his father. The heir to the throne of Fend Aerospace. With that title came the power, access, and privileges that would be quite helpful to American intelligence. Max’s background as a DIA operative was a huge plus.
Max’s father hadn’t looked surprised that Max was here at Oshkosh. Had Wilkes asked his father to come here? Why would Wilkes do that without telling Max?
They walked through the crowd and saw a giant drive-in-style outdoor movie theater towering over a grass field, a grove of trees in the background. Kids and families sprawled out on the lawn, waiting for the sunset movie to play.
“When do you want to head down to Fond du Lac and scout out the hotel area?” Renee asked.
“I was just thinking about that. I think we should go tonight.”
Chapter 21
Trent was waiting at Max’s Cirrus. He was sitting in a lawn chair, whittling a piece of wood into the shape of an eagle.
“That’s pretty good.”
“Thanks.”
Renee said, “I thought we were setting up the tents. Where are they?”
Trent rose and folded up the chair. “Probably not smart for us to camp out here. I got us a camping spot next to the rental car. It’s listed under an alias, and there’s no GPS installed. I checked. If we stayed by Max’s plane, it would be easier for someone to locate us.”
“Good thinking.”
“Come on, follow me. I’ll take us there.”
They walked at least a mile over rolling grass fields, past thousands of cars, recreational vehicles, and tents. Campfires and little gas grills. Diesel generators motoring next to trailers. Kids playing football and playing tag. All the while, airplanes soared overhead, one giant parade in the big blue Wisconsin sky.
“Have you heard from your family at all, Trent?” Renee asked.
“No. They know me. With the type of contract work I get, sometimes I sort of go off the grid for a few weeks at a time. They know not to worry.”
Max said, “You’re doing private security work?”
“Stuff like that. Sometimes personal security. Bodyguard detail for celebrities, things like that. Not exactly the role you had me play.” He smirked. “But I’ll head back to PA once we’re done here. I promised little Josh I’d take him fishing down at Harvey’s Lake.”
They arrived at a section of lawn with two new pup tents and a three-foot-high mound of firewood. Several grocery bags of supplies and a stocked cooler rested in between the tents.
“There’s showers and bathrooms about one hundred yards that way.” He pointed towards a few wooden buildings near a grove of trees. “I figured you guys wouldn’t mind sharing a tent.”
Max sighed. “Aw, man, she snores.”
Renee pinched the skin of his tricep. Hard. Max tried to keep it together.
Trent unfolded three lawn chairs and then started a campfire. They ate cold sandwiches from the cooler and drank bottled waters.
The sun had set, and they spoke in hushed voices over the crackling fire. Max laid out his plan for how they should handle Jennifer Upton the next day. Trent and Renee chimed in with their thoughts. After an hour of working out the details, they took the rental car south and scouted out the area near Upton’s hotel.
Renee dialed the front desk from the parking lot.
“Holiday Inn Fond du Lac, how may I assist you?”
Renee said, “Yes, hello, I have a reservation at your hotel tomorrow, but I need to cancel.”
“Of course. May I have your name, please?”
“Yes, it’s…” She read the alias Upton had used from her notepad.
“That would be great. Thanks.”
“Okay, take care.”
Renee hung up the phone. Max waited ten seconds before dialing the same number.
“Holiday Inn Fond du Lac, how may I assist you?”
“Yes, I was hoping to get a room for tomorrow. Do you have anything available?”
“Why, we actually just had a room open up. You’re lucky. Everything is booked solid for the air show.”
“Oh, what a surprise,” said Max. “I’ll take it.”
The stakeout was tense, as they didn’t know if they were the only ones who were waiting for Upton to appear. There were two possible street entrances to the hotel. Max covered one side from the car. Trent and Renee observed the other entrance from the window seat of a coffee shop across the street.
Renee, still monitoring Jennifer Upton’s personal email, had promptly deleted the automatically generated message from the hotel, confirming that she had canceled her room reservation. Now Renee was using software on her computer to look for signs that Upton’s electronic devices might be pinging local cell towers.
Renee wore white earbuds, and her voice was being transmitted to flesh-colored earpieces that both Max and Trent were wearing.
“There it is. Her phone is local.” Renee checked her watch: 3:30 p.m.