You're Clear

by JL LeGerrette

  “I need you to fill out the Armed Individual paperwork and sign please,” Jahnni said, handing him the AI form concerning his armed status as an FBI agent and adding, “you’ll need to show this paperwork at security and when you introduce yourself to the gate agent. I can get you checked in. What is your last name sir? Oh yeah, I just memorized it, I mean... saw it. Would you like a window or an aisle today?” she asked as she handed his badge back to him.

  “Harleyman. Beau Harleyman. I’ll just take the seat reserved in my name. Thanks.” He smiled as he filled out the Armed Individual form, glancing up at her every few seconds. When he had finished, he handed it back to her, still smiling, which caused his green eyes to burn a fever into hers.

  She reached for his credentials again because he was standing there with his badge still in hand, added edits to the flight info, and continued the check-in process with all the pertinent steps for an AI.

  His bag tag popped out of the machine and eager to be efficient, she immediately strapped it around the handle. The fold of the name tag holder was slightly lifted and she could sort of make out a faded image of the name TROPOPOULIS barely showing under the flap but it appeared to be scribbled over. Above it, the name BEAU HARLEYMAN was written in a bolder ink. Tires screeched a warning in her head. She looked at his boarding pass, and then looked at the name tag once again.

  “This is your bag, Mr. Harleyman?” she quizzed as she slowly looked up at him.

  He had started to put his badge away but flipped open his wallet once again to show an official badge stating Department of Investigation, FBI, Special Agent Beau Harleyman. “Sure is,” he answered in a matter-of-fact tone.

  She needed to stall while thinking through the situation, so she reverted to the old security questions from years gone by.

  “Has anyone unknown to you asked you to carry an item onboard this flight today?”

  “No.”

  “Have any of the items you are traveling with been out of your immediate control since the time you packed them?”

  “No.”

  “Do, do, do... any of your items contain firearms, knives or sharp cutting instruments of any kind?”

  “No. That is except the firearm at my side,” he reminded her.

  Duh, she thought to herself, we already did the paperwork for that. “Dangerous, flammable materials or explosive devises of any kind?” she rattled off.

  “No,” he answered while breathing his words out as she received them like warm pudding being savored on her palette. If I could listen to his voice the rest of my life, I would die a happy woman, she told herself.

  She gazed at his smile resting between his dimples, again, and she slowly let out the breath she realized she’d been holding. Her toes gripped the inside of her shoes so she didn’t lose her balance as her heart rode the wave brought on by cupid’s arrow. Something was quivering somewhere in her body whenever she looked at him, but she was unsure from where. It seemed as if everything—everywhere was. Even her voice.

  Back on track, Dawson, she ordered herself. Pay attention. Why would an F.B.I man have Brown Plaid Man’s bag? Why the apparent name change, and why does the bag appear to match Brown Plaid Man’s jacket? Another realization popped into her head. Ah, nuts, pinecones and sap. Just my luck. I knew he was too good to be true. She decided she didn’t want to walk on the beach with a thief after all.

  She watched Mr. Harleyman as he left the counter, and took note of his self-assured gait. When he was out of sight, she turned and set the bag onto the bag belt where she knew it would be scanned by the CTX machine once it landed in TSA’s hands behind the scenes.

  She was just getting ready to pick up the phone to call the Port Police to ask their advice on the situation when up walked Mr. Tropopoulis. He seemed quite a bit calmer as he announced, “Please do not worry, Janie. I have found my bag. Someone turn it in to the Pizza A’ Plenty and they were just getting ready to call someone to come get it when I show up and claim my bag. Very nice pizza people.”

  “Are you sure it is your bag, Mr. Tropopoulis?” Jahnni blubbered out.

  “Oh yes, Janie.” He held it up, showcasing the fine woven details of the browns, oranges and shades of yellow lacing their pattern throughout his brown prized possession. “Thank you for, well for... uh, well, just thank you anyway.”

  “You are sure this is your bag? I mean, many bags look alike,” Jahnni reminded him. Well, most other bags, usually not this one, she thought.

  “Yes.” Then he slowed his speech a little while staring at his bag, but nodded and offered, “Yes, it is mine,” he said with possessive pride.

  Maybe he is lying about something. Or maybe it was not his bag he recovered, Jahnni thought as her curiosity was ignited. Could someone have traded his bag with the other one? This is a serious matter of cosmic proportions! How could there be two ugly brown plaid bags in this universe?

  Something is just wrong here! How can there be two bags... like that? And why would someone like Mr. Harleyman have one... like that? Who would even want to steal a bag... like that? And for what? Travel fashion tips? Hardly. She felt there must be an explanation. She looked up the seat assignments for Brown Plaid Man. Tropopoulis. Yes. Here it is. 3A. Okay... Harleyman. Hmm... 3C. Side by side in First Class. Too weird. But they aren’t in the same reservation. Maybe I need to talk to the screeners to see if they had any reason to pull the bag, she thought. After all, the Port is either doing a drill, or they are looking for something. While I don’t want to cause unnecessary trouble, it’s best to be cautious. Jahnni signed out of her computer, grabbed her clip board, then scurried through the bypass door next the ticket counter by swiping her badge, entering her private code into the security panel and placing her index finger on the pad for print analysis. The door buzzed and she walked through it and directly over to the elevator.

  When she arrived at the next floor down, she exited the elevator into the secure area under the airport and walked over to the screening area. Jahnni watched the screeners grab and run several bags through CTX. The large x-ray machine was at the base of the bag belts that wound down from the ticket counters via a side belt altering the route. She watched the TSA agents grab the screened bags and place them back on the conveyor belt, and she smiled to herself at how lonely the bags looked as they continued their journey to the airline’s bagwell.

  She remembered when the bags simply rode down from the ticket counters after the passengers took their tagged bags to the large CTX machines in the lobby. But now, she liked the ease of simply throwing the bags on the belt behind her at the ticket counter so all the bags went through the CTX machines behind the scenes. With the flip of a switch, the bags traveled directly to the bagwell, or were intercepted and rerouted to the screeners, which of course, is how it was set up as a permanent change... until methods are changed again at some future date in time. Things were ever-changing and fluid at an airport.

  “Hey Danny,” Jahnni said. “I need to ask about a bag that I just sent down.”

  After she pointed out the bag and asked a couple questions, he replied, “Nothing unusual in the bag. It just had clothes, I think a book, shoes, a Dopp kit, you know, the usual.”

  “A what? What’s a Dopp kit?” Jahnni asked.

  “You know,” he answered. “A man’s toiletry bag. Holds his manly-man stuff. The cologne and woo-woo magic that attracts the ladies.”

  “Oh. Right. The magic,” she mumbled as she rolled her eyes in fake boredom. “But if there was nothing on the x-ray to peak your interest, why did you do a physical search?”

  “Oh, it was just random. We must randomly select bags throughout the day, to do physical searches. You know... national security and all,” one of the other screeners answered.

  “But how do you remember what was in that particular bag?” Jahnni grilled him further.

  “You are kidding, right? Who wouldn’t remember the bag that looks like my great-grandma’s sofa?” he chuckled. Then everyone around them b
egan laughing.

  Noting that she had no concrete evidence yet to be able to confront Mr. Harleyman, because everyone used friend’s suitcases, she told the TSA worker, “I’m just double checking security measures for Carolyn, the station manager.”

  Jahnni decided that since she was already half way there, she would go down to the gates to check on her staff. Maybe she would see something. Hear something. Feel something... other than that annoying quivering every time Mr. Harleyman’s face jumped into her memory.

  Chapter 4

  The Sum of all Things

  Is Planning

  Jahnni watched as other employees passed each other in the hallway chambers or roadways under the main passenger area of the airport. They were either working in the bagwell or circumvented the corridors. Things banged, pipes clamored and she could hear the bag belts humming around and above, attached to the floor, walls or ceiling, carrying bags into the web of transfer belts. The belts went forward in a straight line, or curved up and over other belts, and some wound through passageways only to exit and careen down to a transfer area. Bag carts were being driven through the tunnels by several different airlines as they dropped off transfer bags and exchanged loads whenever possible to save a trip to the other side of the airport.

  She smiled at the collection of boxes, suitcases, golf bags, sleeping bags, car seats, wheelchairs, walkers, guitar cases, and a couple dogs in crates. She remembered when she started working for the airlines, a passenger had checked in a ninety-nine-pound floor sander. It was amazing all the things she learned that people checked.

  As she walked along and looked all around her, she remembered the longstanding rumor that these tunnels also had an access point somewhere that led to a dungeon, as many called it. She had never met anyone who had been down there, if ‘there’ even existed. Some people jokingly called it the mine shafts. Jahnni had never tried her badge in any secret-looking door. In fact, she had never even seen a secret-looking door.

  She turned once more to walk the underground shortcut to the First Class Air’s gates. Music was blasting away and sunglasses were perched on top of heads after the tug drivers entered the tunnels, bringing newly unloaded bags to be dropped at the carousels or sorted for transfer to other flights. Other drivers donned their sunglasses as they pulled out of the bagwell, headed out to load aircraft, or meet incoming flights. She walked out the large tunnel door that led outside to the cargo loading area for the aircraft. Jetways reached out overhead, connecting the inside airport areas with the airplanes. The airplanes sat stoically on the pavement, waiting to be loaded with people from above and cargo down below. Such magnificent beauty, she thought. Being so close to them made their enormous size even more majestic. I’ll never understand how they stay in the air.

  The sound of the planes taking off and landing caused a stir in her chest that welcomed adventure, but usually only in her imagination. Although there were other ways to stay indoors while traversing the underground maze, Jahnni preferred this route. She was very mindful of security and safety and stayed within the painted areas that allowed for airport employee foot traffic. Exhaust and jet fuel mixed with fresh air smelled like Freedom. Escape. Adventure. Maybe even a little trouble. Just a little.

  After breathing in one last fill of adventure, she climbed the metal grate stairs that led to the door, which gave access to inside the airport. She keyed herself in. The door unlocked and she proceeded into one of the boarding areas for First Class Air.

  Once inside, she waited for her eyes to adjust from being in the bright sunlight. Jahnni turned to approach the boarding area for Brown Plaid Man’s flight... when she crashed head on with Mr. Harleyman.

  “I think we must have a special connection, you and me,” he chuckled.

  Jahnni was about to say she has no connections with thieves, nor did she desire to kiss them when she heard herself say, “M-m maybe we do. I would accuse you of following me, but I suppose that would have been impossible, given our location.” She smiled, wondering if, or more like hoping, he wasn’t a thief and they did have some kind of connection. After all, the bag went through CTX, so it’s really a non-issue at this point, she tried to assure herself.

  “True, true. A mere impossibility seeing as I came in through that area,” he agreed as he hooked a thumb over his shoulder, pointing to the security checkpoint, “and you came in through that area.” He pointed around the corner to the door with the big ‘Employees Only’ sign emblazoned across it. “I actually watched you walk up from outside while I was standing here admiring the view from these big windows. You look like you really know your way around this massive airport,” he added.

  His gestures caused his arms to flex. This caused her to be unnecessarily sidetracked while imagining the feel of his bulging arms as they wrapped protectively around her, shielding her from all forces of ill-will. She recovered from her momentary sidetracked imagination by saying, “Well, I have to check on my staff and tend to some important tasks. You’ll have to excuse me, Mr. Harleyman.” She smiled as she backed away to go to the podium, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. I know he knows what I’m thinking. He can probably read my mind, or my body language, gestures, who knows! I’ve read about these FBI types. They have secret training. I bet he has lots of secrets. She took a deep breath and sighed, I hope any future secrets include me.

  When she was halfway to the podium, she turned again to see if he was watching her walk away. Yep. I hope he likes the view. I need to think of what information I need, she thought to herself. One, find out why he is flying... for business or pleasure? Two, official FBI business? Oh, he wouldn’t be allowed to tell me that. One thing for sure is number three. I need to find out if he is married, she reasoned.

  Jahnni tried to keep her mind focused so she started checking the computer for the daily flight loads. She knew that long eastbound flights, or flights heading to the sunshine tended to be booked to capacity if not over-booked. She called OPS, “I need the updates on inbound and outbound expected delays that haven’t been put in the computer yet. Are there any mechanicals or other issues that you foresee causing a delay?”

  Jahnni was always one step ahead. Actually, two or three steps ahead if possible. She liked a smooth operation because there were issues that popped up all day long, every day. Planning reduced the stress on her staff, as well as the passengers. Her team always worked better if they were on the same page, and had access to the same tools. She was determined to always provide that.

  There is so much to think about all day long, she reminded herself so she would stay focused. Sick calls, staffing, back-ups at the ticket counter, did he notice me? I mean really, really, notice me? Her mind tried to stay on task but it continued to sidetrack her thoughts when she thought of Mr. Harleyman. Once the bank of flights went out later, she decided that she’d check FLIFO to look at the flight ETA’s and ETD’s for the rest of the evening. That will keep me busy. That’s what’s wrong. I just need to stay focused, stay on task. Make plans... to get to know Mr. Harleyman.

  Chapter 5

  A Hiccup in the Day

  Suddenly the SUP phone was chiming. “First Class Air Supervisor Jahnni. May I help you?” She already knew that the call was coming from the Operations Department when she saw the caller ID. There must be an issue with a flight, she wondered.

  “Hey Jahn, a flight from Denver is diverting to PDX, flight 198. A winglet was hit by lightning and the captain is going to set down. They will be on the ground in 18 minutes. Spot C-2. Can you meet the plane and let the passengers know that we will have an ETD within a half hour? There is a plane at the hangar that we will use for the swap-out. It was here for scheduled maintenance and was released into service just a couple hours ago,” Pablo explained.

  Jahnni called down to the RAC Room to have everyone reseated if the seat configuration was different. She knew they would ensure the SSR’s like wheelchair passengers and UM’s were taken care of. They would retag bags for any rebooked pas
sengers and the ground agents would rally to transfer any cargo and bags in a timely manner. The Ramp Action Center, also referred to as the Re-accommodation Center, has been a superb behind-the-scenes office in First Class Airline’s bagwell. Not every airline had a RAC Room but because of the size of First Class Air and the size of PDX, the added support their airline depended on streamlined so much work behind the scenes.

  Basically, at First Class Air, OPS handled the planes and the RAC room handled the behind-the-scenes issues with passengers and their bags. Having worked both of those positions herself, she knew the departments stayed in contact to make decisions that kept the passengers moving forward, and sometimes checking on the same things. Redundancy reduces calamity and that makes me happy, Jahnni reminded herself.

  When the diverted plane arrived, Jahnni met the plane at the end of the jetway and boarded to make the announcement that once they deplaned, they were to remain in the gate area because their plane was being swapped out while this one is sent over to the hangar for an LSP check. Since they were hit by lightning, Lightning Strike Protection had to be checked and verified or the plane would remain grounded until the LSP on the plane was operational. They would be on their way with a new plane in short order.

  A few minutes later, Jahnni noticed the plane swap had been entered into the computer so she printed out a list of the passengers that had new seat assignments and planned to call up only the ones who had been reassigned. A second list was printed for the passengers whose seat assignments remained the same. She knew it would be a few minutes while the planes were swapped. She stopped and looked out at the passengers waiting for their flights. Another busy day filled with changes.