Wings of Steele - Destination Unknown (Book 1) (5 page)

Jack
went down the checklist as the airfield came into view and grew
beneath them.

"Flaps,
one-quarter."

"Roger,
flaps one-quarter." As the copilot moved the levers controlling
the flaps, the hydraulic pumps hummed.

Jack
glanced out over the left wing to watch the flaps extend, "Landing
lights, please."

Brian
reached up and toggled the switches for the landing lights, "Landing
lights on."

"Good..."
Jack paused to run his hand through his hair, "Gear down..."

"Gear
down..." the copilot slid the levers and the lock lights on the
indicator panel, winked on, as the landing gear dropped down and
locked into place with a thump. "Down and locked, Skipper."

Steele
adjusted the flaps to one-half. "Ok, lets take her in." He
reduced power further and the Susie dropped smoothly and gently.

Brian
checked with the control tower. "The runway's all yours."

The
runway lights shone brightly, leading the B25 onto the long black
ribbon of tarmac... the warbird touched down softly. Jack cut the
throttles back to idle and applying the brakes, slowed to a
manageable taxiing speed to swing off the runway at the third exit
skirt. A small Jeep with a rather large sign and flashing lights
joined them, then pulled ahead to lead the plane. The illuminated
sign read, FOLLOW ME. The pilots looked at each other and smirked.
Proportionately, the vehicle looked ridiculous. "Geez..."
laughed Brian, "check out Captain Obvious here."

Jack
shook his head, "Wow. Just wow. I mean seriously... what the
fuck..."

"Holy
shit..!" snorted Brian. “I wonder if anybody's ever lost
him...” Laughing, they executed an exploding fist bump with
the appropriate sound effects, obviously tired from the long flight
and anxious to get out of the confines of the aircraft to stretch
their legs.

Jack
retracted the flaps between jokes, as they rolled along behind the
lead vehicle and cut off the landing lights. They passed the main
concourse, they passed the commercial hangars, they passed the
smaller private hangars... "Where the hell is this guy taking
us?!"

Brian
shook his head and shrugged. As if to answer, the Jeep angled left,
toward a row of dilapidated old hangars. "Geez, they're puttin’
us out in the slums."

“
Well..."
Jack paused to run his hand through his hair, "I don't really
care, I just want to eat, clean up and get some sleep. I'm bushed."

"Yeah
me too," agreed the copilot.

Fritz
was getting impatient, he sat with his head on Jack's lap, staring
up with those big brown eyes. He whined softly, wanting attention.
The pilot absentmindedly stroked the dog's long snout to appease
him. Fritz closed his eyes and remained quiet. The lights were on
and the doors open on the very last hangar in the row. As the Jeep
got closer to the lit building, he slowed, turned off his sign
lights and sped away. A flight-line worker with hand lights guided
Jack into his turn in front of the hangar. Jack reached behind him
and switched off the air-conditioning unit, slid open the vent
window and a rush of air off the port engine, flooded the cockpit.
It felt so good, Brian reached over and opened his too. When the B25
faced away from the hangar, the line attendant signaled Jack to shut
down. The tired pilot held the brakes. "Shut 'em down Bri."
Brian toggled off the ignition switches, and Jack rotated the
selectors for the fuel cut-offs and the magnetos. The engines
sputtered then went silent as the props spun down to a whirring
stop.

Amidst
yawns and groans, the two men unbuckled themselves and secured all
the systems. The crew groped their way through the darkened
aircraft. Feeling for the belly hatch, Jack found the latch handle
and opened it, dropping his flight bag to the ground below. Fritz
anxiously pushed his way past the two men and dove through the
opening and quickly disappeared from view. The two fliers dropped
through the hatch one at a time, and Brian reached up to close it.
"Too bad this thing doesn't have a lock on it, I'd feel
better."

Jack
shrugged, "It'll be alright, we're not goin' more than a
hundred feet." Stepping out from underneath the plane, Jack
stretched his arms toward the star-filled sky...
"Aaarrruugh,"
he growled, releasing the tension from his body. Closing his eyes
briefly, he inhaled deeply, breathing in the warm, moist air. The
air was sweet and heavy. He stared up into the early evening sky,
awed by its starry splendor. “Hmm...” he mused, “clouds
are gone.”

"Geez,
what a dump," grumbled Brian, breaking the silence.

"Huh?"
Jack came out of his trance, "Oh, our accommodations, yeah,
well, I've seen worse." He snatched his bag up off the
concrete and strolled towards the open hangar.

"Where,
Beirut?" The copilot glanced at the gaping holes in the roof as
he walked behind the pilot. Jack snapped his fingers and the masked
Shepherd quietly appeared out of the darkness, startling the
mechanic in the dimly lit hangar.

"Sorry
pal, he does that to everyone at first." The mechanic stood
silently, unmoving, eyeing the pilot. Jack suddenly realized how
much shorter than he, the mechanic was. Jack squinted to see facial
features but the dim light defied his efforts. After what seemed a
lengthy silence he decided to try again. "You speaka de
Englais?" He hoped for English because his Latin vocabulary
consisted of fast food menu items.

"Of
course I speak English, you ass. And watch who you call
pal,
Mister
Steele." The pilot stood wide eyed and a tad stunned as the
mechanic removed his ball cap to reveal he, was actually a she. A
quite attractive she at that.

"I,
uh..." Jack cleared his throat, "ahem, yes, well that is
I, um... you, I mean we..." He suddenly realized, he had
absolutely no idea what to say. Not accustomed to being caught off
guard, his tired mind finally caught up to shut off his runaway
mouth.

Cascades
of raven-black hair fell out from under the hat, and Jack
offhandedly wondered how all that hair could fit under that little
cap. A quick glance to his left told him the speechless,
open-mouthed copilot, was as surprised as he was. Fritz harrumphed,
he wasn't fooled at all. He knew all along and couldn't see how Jack
missed such an obvious charade. The dog strolled past the gaze of
the female mechanic and away from the trio. "Where does he
think
he's
going?" said the girl, thumbing towards the dog's diminishing
shadow.

Brian
shrugged, not wanting to be left out, "Wherever he wants...
pretty much."

Jack
was fighting back the giggles, somewhat unsuccessfully. Regaining
his composure and charisma, he got his mouth and brain in sync.
"Look, let's start over again. Hi, I'm Jack Steele, pilot
extraordinaire. This is my friend and trusty copilot and good
friend, Brian Carter. The hairy guy exploring your hangar," he
looked above him at the hole in the roof, "such as it is, is my
dog Fritz. We are the crew of that fine aircraft out there…"
He extended his hand. The girl took his hand, tentatively at first,
then shook it in earnest.

"Maria
Arroyo, nice to meet you..." she smiled. "I think."
Standing this close, Steele could see her very well, even in the
poor light. He stared into her dark eyes, still holding her hand.
She did not look away. They remained there as if momentarily frozen.

"Ahem."
Brian cleared his throat.

The
man and woman recoiled, as if burned, suddenly feeling uncomfortable
and not wanting to acknowledge what they both knew had just
occurred. "Food," said Brian, patiently coaxing the
conversation along.

"Ah,
yeah, we could use a hot meal, a shower and sleep, lots of sleep,"
said Jack slowly, not taking his eyes off the young lady as she
began removing her work coveralls.

"No
problem..." she said. She wriggled out of her work suit and
revealed a wonderful figure, obvious even under her street clothes.
Jack felt mesmerized as he listened to her speak. He found her voice
and Latin accent very pleasing. "The showers are that way
through the office..." she pointed the way. "While you get
cleaned up, I'll go get us all some dinner."

"Sounds
like a plan to me," said Brian as he strode off through the
office... what there was of it.

Fritz
found the cots for the crew of the Sweet Susie. Bored with his
exploration, he carefully inspected then chose one to curl up on. He
laid quietly, with one eye open, casually watching Jack and Maria
discuss available choices for dinner. The dog, sensitive to human
emotions, could smell and feel the desire in the air and sleepily
wondered what they were waiting for. Not able to resist any longer,
the Shepherd dozed off and began to snore. The two people stood face
to face without speaking. They had run out of things to say. The
unspoken question was whether to make the transition from
professional to personal. The only sound louder than their combined
heartbeats was the dog's snoring. The pause became intense and
uncomfortable. Maria stepped backwards. "Um... I guess I, um, I
should um..."

"Go
get the food?" said Jack, helping her along.

"Yes...
yes, that's it, get the food..." she stared at him, backing up
slowly, "I'll be right back!" She turned and ran from the
old hangar.

Jack
inhaled deeply, staring at the empty doorway. He picked up his
flight bag and headed for the shower, wondering what would happen
next and how he would handle it.
Bingo!
said the little voice in his head.
Shut
up,
he told it.

■ ■ ■

Brian
stretched out on his cot, tucking his hands behind his head, "Man,
I'm stuffed. That was great, it really hit the spot."

"I'm
glad you liked it," said Maria, somewhat preoccupied, although
the copilot never noticed. Her mind was on Jack who had been distant
all during dinner. Immediately after eating, he quietly rose from
the table and went outside. The tall silhouette stood with his
shaggy companion, out near the B25.

Maria
turned out the hangar lights, so the copilot could fall asleep. She
stood silently in the hangar's darkness, near the expansive front
doorway. Almost transfixed, she watched the tall American pilot and
wondered about his strange magnetism. No man from her own country
had ever commanded her thoughts or desires like this before.
Unbeknownst to her, Jack was thinking much the same thing about her.
Not sure whether it was envy or jealousy she felt, Maria decided to
re-route some of the attention Fritz was always getting. She grabbed
a folded blanket off the foot of one of the empty cots and strode
out of the hangar. Steele could hear the light footsteps approaching
from behind but chose not to turn around. He was watching the
Shepherd rolling in the grass along the runway, enjoying his comical
behavior. Jack could feel the girl's presence at his side, but he
neither moved nor spoke. His heart quickened, but he fought to
conceal the emotion rushing about inside.
Aw,
go on,
goaded the little voice inside him. He ignored it.

Now
it was the dog's turn to watch the humans.

With
the blanket tucked under one arm, Maria stood beside the tall,
silent pilot. Her heart hammered as she gazed up at his handsome
profile. He stood so still he looked like he was made of granite. A
gentle breeze rustled his open shirt, and Maria wanted to touch him,
just to reassure herself that he was real. Unable to wait any
longer, she reached out and touched his arm. The young woman was
almost startled when he turned to meet her gaze. As he stared deep
into her eyes, the blanket slipped from her limp hand, landing on
the ground with a soft flop. "Do you..." her voice
squeaked, so she drew a deep breath and started again, her heart
racing. "Ahem... um, do you think I'm pretty... I mean, do find
me attract..." Jack, smiling warmly, had placed his fingertips
on her lips.

"How
old are you?" Jack asked softly.

"Twenty-five,"
she replied, "why?"

"Well,
I'm almost ten years older than you..."

Still
holding his arm, Maria smiled sweetly. "So what?”

Jack
was playing absentmindedly with the satiny, black curls of hair
falling across her shoulder. His eyes flicked back to hers, as he
ran his hand through her luxurious hair. Her eyes closed slowly as
she lost herself in his touch. "That's all I needed to know,"
said Steele in a raspy whisper.