by Dan Kelly
For several minutes the horror of what they just witnessed rendered them speechless. Barbara broke the silence with, “No one survived that. That’s definitely not the way to go.”
Joel spoke up with, “Well, at least we don’t have to worry about the horses getting in our way. Hold on tight ladies, it’s our turn to tempt fate. The sooner we get down there the sooner we’ll be able to see if some kind of miracle occurred and someone is still alive that we can help.”
Joel brought the Skylane around to the desired heading and slowly descended, clearing the trees and touching down as light as feather. The field was not as uneven as he had feared and they experienced very little jostling, but had the field been 30 yards shorter they would have crashed into a solid wall of oak trees. Once again demonstrating her ability to quickly recover from just about any catastrophe Barbara quipped, “You call that a landing? I want my money back. You psyche me up to be bounced and thrown around and then give me smooth. ‘What a rip off.”
Joel was used to Barbara sounding off to mask her true feelings about something, but Collette and Tania were clearly surprised at her nonchalance and it clearly showed on their faces. “Don’t mind her ladies. You just can’t please some people.”
Joel’s comment got them to smile a little, but it was clear that Barbara’s behavior definitely confused them.
They all ran over to the crash site to see if anyone had survived and when they saw two bodies about 25 yards from the wreckage, one on each side of the fuselage, they thought there might have indeed been a miracle. Closer examination though revealed that such was not the case. The pilot and passenger, both males, although thrown clear of the flames were both dead. Their necks were broken.
Barbara searched the victims for identification and found their wallets which she kept to pass on to the FAA and the NTSB authorities when she had the chance. She also took their pictures and a picture of the tail number of the plane with her cell phone for ID purposes as well.
Looking around and shaking his head Joel observed, “It looks like we’re really in the boonies. There doesn’t appear to be any people for miles around.” He tried calling Hank with his cell phone, but no luck. The signal was either being blocked because they were deep in a valley or all signals in the area were being blocked by the people who have been messing with communications for weeks now.
“Let’s go back to the plane and figure out a plan to get some help or find our way back to civilization.”
Hugging herself Tania said, “It’s starting to get chilly.”
“As night approaches, it’s going to get colder. I keep foul weather gear in the plane for just such occasions, so we’ll be able to keep warm. It looks like we’re going to miss dinner though.”
They had just settled down in the plane and begun to list their options for getting out of the predicament they were in when a large pick up drove over the hill in front of them and headed their way. It contained three men, an older man about 70 years old and two younger men somewhere in their twenties.
The older man opened the conversation with, “Hi there, folks. It looks like you could use some help. My name’s Ernie and these are my two grandsons Ray and Dave. It looks like the folks that were in the other plane are beyond any help in this world. We were repairing some fencing on the other side of those trees when we saw a plane in trouble coming in for an emergency landing. We heard the sound of a crash and then saw a fireball shoot above the trees. We got over here as fast as we could. There aren’t any paved roads in this neck of the woods. Just dirt trails, but they’re drivable if you go slow.”
Joel responded with, “Well, thanks for coming to check things out. We were just trying to decide whether we should try to figure a way to get someone to notice us or plan to try to hike out of here first thing in the morning.”
“Well, there’s a pip of a storm coming our way and it should start dousing us pretty soon now. You’re welcome to stay the night with us. The storm should be past us by morning. My Emma makes a dynamite venison stew and that’s what she told me she was going to prepare for our supper. You’re welcome to join us.”
Joel said, “Thank you so much for your kind offer. Maybe if your phones are working I can contact someone to come and get us and take my plane to someplace where I can get it refueled, get back in the air and continue our flight back home to Chicago. There’s no way I’d try to take off from this field. We didn’t have much room to spare on the landing. Since there are only trails out of here, towing the plane is out of the question. We’re going to need someone who has the means to airlift it out.”
Tania added, “Yes, thank you very much, Ernie, but perhaps it would be best if we pass on the dinner. There are four of us and we’re all ravenous. I’m sure your wife is not preparing enough food to feed your family and us too. A sandwich or some soup would be great though.”
“You don’t know my Emma. She always cooks enough for an army in case company comes calling and there are always leftovers. Don’t you fret none about there being enough food.”
With a thankful smile Joel said, “Okay then. Let me button up the plane and we’ll all pile into the back of your pick up.”
“The ladies can ride up here with me.” Pointing to Tania he added, “The little one can sit on one of the other girls’ laps. You, my boys and the lab can ride in the back.”
Forty five minutes later they were pulling into a large barnyard fronting a storybook farmhouse that was larger than any of them had ever seen with a wooden sign that hung from its porch roof that said “Welcome to the Aldridges”. The barnyard had the requisite chickens and a couple of cats patrolling the area, presumably for some rodent delicacy. The porch had the requisite bloodhound who at the moment was more interested in a fly that was bugging him than in the newly arrived guests.
They entered the house by way of the kitchen and walking into that kitchen was like walking back in time. Except for the modern appliances, the décor was just like you saw in those old movies of the 30s and 40s, including the open brick oven with hanging pots and pans on the front wall and the big kettle hanging from the arched roof of the oven itself.
There was food cooking and simmering everywhere you looked and the mellifluous medley of aromas had the group from Sentry salivating uncontrollably. “Emma must be upstairs in her office. She’s working on a couple of big jobs and the deadline for completion is fast approaching.”
Joel asked, “What kind of work does your wife do?”
“She’s an architect and one of the best you can find anywhere around here believe you me.”
Barbara asked, “Is the name on the porch sign yours?”
“That it is. When I was a kid I thought of changing it when I was old enough. There was this old radio program called Henry Aldrich and the show always opened with the mother yelling for her son. ‘Henry! Henry Aldrich!’ and the son would always respond in a dorky kind of way with ‘Coming, Mother!’ My buddies always razzed the hell out of me what with me having the same last name.”
Barbara said, “It could have been worse. Your first name could have been Henry.”
“I have a kid brother a lot younger than me whose name is Henry, but TV had come along by the time he was born and the radio show was long gone, a part of history only remembered by old fogies like me. He didn’t have to deal with the name thing.”
The looks on his guests’ faces prompted him to ask, “What did I say that has put that funny look on your faces?”
“Please forgive us, Ernie, but what we do for a living makes us very suspicious of coincidences. You see, our boss’s name is Henry Aldrich.”
Ernie became as quiet and still as a cat getting ready to pounce on a gopher and for what seemed like forever stared at Joel like he was probing for some clue as to who he might be. Finally he said, “You said you were from Chicago. You don’t by any chance work for an outfit by the name of Sentry do you?”
It was Joel’s turn to mum up and stare, but only for a second. “What do
you know about Sentry and do you know our Henry Aldrich?”
Ernie’s face relaxed and broke into a smile. Between fits of laughter he said, “A lot more than you do and your Henry was mine long before he was yours. Hank is my kid brother and the black sheep of our herd. He was the only one who made the military a career and had the audacity to become a general in the bargain. From the time he could barely walk and talk it became obvious that he could see things, anticipate things that the rest of us couldn’t even begin to imagine. He was a good kid, a tough kid, but kind of weird in that he often acted a lot older than his years.
“I helped him get Sentry up and running and even worked for him for a few years, but that clandestine stuff wasn’t for me. Electronics was my gig, all kinds, and I was lucky enough to make a very nice living for a number of years and then created some very high tech surveillance and guidance systems, got some patents and sold them to Uncle Sam for a tidy sum which enabled me to become a gentleman farmer doing what I damn well please.”
He walked to the only other doorway in the kitchen that led to a long hallway off of which rose a stairway to the second floor and archways that opened on to other rooms on both sides of the hallway.
Shouting at the top of his lungs and chuckling at the same time which is no mean task he bellowed, “Emma, please come downstairs. You’ll never guess who’s coming for dinner.”
A few minutes later a striking woman with thick wavy snow white hair, deep blue intelligent eyes and a beautiful smile walked into the room. Although dressed in faded blue denim jeans and a matching work shirt with her feet ensconced in sensible black low heeled shoes, it didn’t take much imagination to see that she had the figure that many women of any age would spend a pile of money for but seldom achieve.
When the introductions were commenced with, the conversation segued into a delightful expose on their boss and his younger years. Over dinner, which was as Ernie promised an epicurean delight, the dialogue became more serious. “So, where were the four of you coming from and on what secret mission loaded with danger and intrigue does my brother have you embarked on?”
Sensing reluctance on Joel’s part to discuss any of that, Ernie quickly rescinded the question with, “I’m sorry. I should know better. I haven’t worked with Hank for years, but those old nosy habits are hard to break.”
“No apology needed. Now that I think about it, a fresh perspective on things might be a big help. If your brother let you stick around for a few years, you must have been pretty darn good. Hank has no patience with mediocrity.”
So, Joel gave him the complete lowdown. He concluded with, “Ernie, Hank’s convinced we’re running out of time and that something disastrous is just around the corner. I’m beginning to agree with him. My gut is telling me that we’re on to something, but that’s meaningless without some meaty facts to sink out teeth into. The only thing we have that has any potential for getting us on the offensive is the tails we’ve put in place.”
“Well, from my perspective you folks have done a terrific job uncovering the most likely possibilities and you’ve accomplished that in an amazingly short period of time. I’d stay on the course you’re on with one exception. Don’t wait for these tails to give you something you can use to go on the offensive. Start messing with these guys’ minds now. It’s imperative that the countermeasures this man Ashok has come up with be implemented immediately. This will give the enemy cause for pause and hopefully buy you some time. Something else that will give the enemy cause for pause is the use of propaganda. By whatever means available, no matter how intermittent, start making public announcements that the authorities are zeroing in on who is behind all of the mayhem that has been occurring lately. You might even drop a few of the names you’ve come up with as ‘people of interest’. This also has the potential to cause them to panic a little and start to make mistakes.”
“That’s good advice, Ernie. I wish I could reach Hank and let him know what’s happened to us and share your ideas with him. Are your phones and internet working?”
“I don’t know. The boys and I have been out and about all day and cell phone reception here in this valley is the pits. Emma, how are the house phones?”
“I haven’t had to use them or the internet all day. They haven’t rung, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. I’ve been on the computer most of the day, using some CAD programs and other software to complete my projects.”
Ernie checked the wall phone in the kitchen and when he picked up the receiver everyone in the dining room could hear the loud static on the line and there was no dial tone.
Settling in around the fireplace in the large yet kind of cozy living room with some to die for after dinner brandy, Ernie stated the obvious and then the not so obvious. “It looks like we’re going to be incommunicado for a spell as well as house bound. All of the roads within five miles of the farm will soon be rivers of water and impassable. It happens every time we get hit with a major storm. When the storm passes, it will take a couple of days for the water to run off and the roads to become usable again.”
“How far is the nearest town from here where we might be able to find a means of communicating with our office?”
“About 20 miles once you get on the main road into town. It’s a two lane country road, but it’s paved and in good condition.”
“Any chance you could drive us there before the storm hits? We’d pay for any accommodations and other expenses you’d incur while waiting for the storm to blow over.”
“It’s too late for that. Take a look out the window. It’s already starting to rain and judging from those dark storm clouds it will soon be pouring.”
Sure enough, a few minutes later the sky opened up and the water beating on the farm house roof sounded like a bunch of drummers doing solos with the thunder providing syncopated, supplemental percussion. The lightning reflecting off the raindrops was so intense it was like being blinded by the reflections off of thousands of tiny mirrors. Until the storm moved on, they were isolated.
Ernie’s earlier assessment of how long it would take the storm to pass was all wet, really wet. It took two days for the storm to move on and another two days for the flooded dirt roads to become passable. The phones were still out at the farm house, but Joel was hoping that once they got out of the valley he would have better luck with his cell phone. Ernie was driving them into Morrisville, a small town of about 30,000 people, and Joel was hoping to reach Hank and make arrangements to airlift his plane to the nearest airfield where he could refuel and they could resume their flight back to Chicago. They have been out of touch with civilization for four days and the suspense of not knowing what their adversaries might be up to is beginning to make them ideal candidates for a rubber room.
When they reached the outskirts of town, Joel gave his cell a try and he got through on his first attempt. “Man, hearing your voice has made my day. Now that that’s out of the way, where the hell have you guys been?”
It’s seldom that Joel gets the chance to play with his boss’s mind and he jumps at the opportunity to do so now. “We decided to take a few days off to experience some gentleman farming. The pressure was really getting to us. Some fantastic home cooked meals and some terrific story telling by our hosts seem to have done the trick. We’re now ready to report back in for duty sir.”
“What the hell are you babbling about? Are you off your rocker? You decided to take a vacation while the rest of the country is going berserk? You get your ass back here pronto or you’ll be sitting on it in the unemployment office.”
Joel can’t hold it any longer and he bursts out laughing. “What’s so bloody funny? Your trolley really has jumped the tracks hasn’t it?”
Joel figures he better fess up before his boss has a stroke so he says, “Hold your water, Hank. There’s someone here that wants to talk with you.”
Taking the phone from Joel and momentarily covering it with his hand Ernie says, “Boy, you sure like to live dangerously don’t y
ou?”
Uncovering the mouthpiece Ernie says, “Are you having a bad day, bro. You’ve really got to get that temper of yours under control. All that stressing and straining is going to give you hemorrhoids.”
Hank was shouting so loud that everyone in the truck could hear him. “Ernie? Ernie? What the hell are you doing with my people?”