andyjohnston

Great stuff, maybe one day I'll figure out how to use that heli.

Just south of Berlin

I must've said more to Bruce than I thought I had, because we flew that plane all the way to Washington. We parked and Bruce hailed us a cab, and it took only a few minutes to be back at DEA headquarters. Much like before, I'd really like to tell you what happened next, but it's all hush-hush. I can't tell a word. Suffice it to say... No? I can't even say that. Well I guess we'll just have to fast-forward a couple of hours. The elevator doors opened and I stepped back to the lobby floor. I heard Bruce before I saw him. He was slumped over in a chair, fast asleep and snoring. I gave him a gentle kick as I walked past, and he jumped to his feet, following me out the door. "So?" he asked. I turned to look at him and heaved a sigh. "Looks like I'm in the clear." Bruce laughed as he slapped me on the back. "I knew everything would work out!" With that, we hailed a cab that took me to KDCA, though Bruce stayed in and continued on to the bus station on Massachusetts. I made a stop at Smashburger to grab a cup of coffee in memory of "Lisa" before making my way to the departures area. You might remember I told Lisa I wanted to be paid. And it was about a month later that I saw money had been deposited into my bank account. One dollar, minus the tax. Which reminds of of the time... Well, that's another story.

The plane was screaming down the taxiway, and as much as I wanted to slow it down, Bruce wouldn't let me pull the throttle levers. So I set the flaps and pulled back. Behind me, I heard the door open along with the rush of escaping air. I don't know where Sammy thought he was going, but Bruce leapt from his seat and into the cabin. I rolled the plane hard to the right, using the rudder to keep control. I looked over my shoulder to see Bruce pull Sammy away from the door, and then it was closed. With a glance behind, I saw the two wrestling with each other until Bruce overpowered the smaller man. I straightened the plane out as Bruce came back to the co-pilot's seat. For a plane so sleek looking, it was slow. There was no auto-throttle so I had to manage the speed manually, but even flying right at the red line, we were going so slow I knew it was going to take us a while to get anywhere.

Bruce stomped on his brakes as he came skidding around the corner in a move that looked like he had picked up watching the Dukes of Hazzard. We had barely come to a stop and Bruce already had the engine turned off as he almost jumped from the truck. "Hey Sammy," he shouted. "Sammy, where are ya?" At first there was no response and Bruce cupped his hands around his mouth before starting again. A slim man with salt-and-pepper hair ducked around the corner of the plane in front of us. "I'm right here, you don't need to be hollerin'" Bruce half turned to look at me while pointing a finger. "I told you he'd help us. This is Sammy. Sammy this is a friend of mine." His expression turned dead serious as I strode to his side. "Sammy," Bruce said, "We need your help, and we need your plane." Sammy rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Bruce, how many times I done told you this isn't my plane? I just work on it." "Well then let us in to take a look." Sammy looked between the two of us. "Well alright, just a look though." He let the way around one side where he pulled down the steps to the interior. Bruce pushed me ahead then dragged Sammy up before closing the door. "Hey," Sammy tried to object. "What do you think you're doin'?" Bruce pushed us both into the cockpit then shoved me into the pilot's seat.. Sammy," he said, "We just want to look. What would we do if we wanted to see all the numbers?" Sammy raised an eyebrow before pointing to two switches. "First that one, then this one here." "Go ahead," Bruce urged me. I flipped the two switches and the panel came to life. "Perfect," Bruce said. He pressed a few buttons and the whine of the jet engines filled the plane. He shoved a knob in and the red "Parking Brake" indicator on the panel blinked off. Bruce gave the plane some power, and we were rolling along the taxiway.

Thanks, I'm not sure but that sounds right.

We were like peas and carrots. What movie is it where they keep saying that? Well Bruce and I were not like peas and carrots. We were like oil and water. We should not have gotten along, but we did. We sat in that hangar and we talked and talked. The rain that was pouring down and forced me to land let up, and then stopped. Darkness fell, and Bruce invited me to stay with him for the night. So we piled into a beat up, red Ford pickup truck and trundled along a series of dirt roads until we came to his trailer nestled just off to one side. I spent the night sleeping on...I wouldn't quite call it a couch. And i woke the next morning to the smell of breakfast. Bruce served me eggs along with some kind of potatoes. I don't usually eat breakfast but I wasn't going to refuse Bruce's hospitality. "You know," he said to me, his mouth stuffed with food. "I was thinking about it last night. I think I know someone who can help us." "Us?" "Well I'm not leaving you now." I didn't know it, but I would end up staying in touch with Bruce for a long time. We were soon back in his truck and on the road. In the darkness, I hadn't noticed the fine details of his ride. The paint was faded and rusted, and the seats had tears being held together with duct tape. He brought me to an airstrip which was dotted with small planes. He drove me out to one particular apron, and as we came around the corner, I was faced with something I was not expecting to see.

Thanks! :)

Thx!

I'm no fool. Once the lightning started, I moved pretty quickly so that I wasn't standing under those metal wings. The odds were slim, but I didn't want to be hanging around should a bolt happen to hit. I ducked my head and ran toward a nearby hangar. It was made of wood, and had yellow lettering at the front. But the paint was so faded I couldn't make out what they might have once said. The sound of someone tinkering greeted me even before I got to the door, and though I tried to be quiet, I had obviously caught someone's attention. It was a man in blue coveralls, who was making adjustments to a little taildragger with enormous off-road tires. "I'm sorry," I said as he looked over at me. "I'm just trying to..I'm just...never mind." I turned to leave but the rain was still pouring down. I looked back. "I've seen that face before," he said. "The face of a man with troubles." I couldn't disagree. "Who are you running from?" He peered at me. "It's not a woman, it's about...money?" I shook my head, not sure how much to tell him. "It's...the government." With that a smile crossed his grizzled face. "Well anyone who has a problem with them is a friend of mine. The name's Bruce." He reached a hand toward me. I lifted my fingers with the intention of just brushing up against him and then pulling away, but he grabbed my hand and shook vigorously.

Thought I'd visit the GC, but part way along I ran out of fuel and crashed...

Looks great.

Thanks so much! I appreciate your feedback and would love to hear from any others who are reading as well. :) :)

As I flew that little Cessna, a few things occurred to me. First, I remembered how infrequent it was that I flew something that small. Second, that I was much more used to being behind the controls of something a lot faster, and it was taking a long time to get anywhere.. With time, clouds began to gather overhead, and drizzle appeared on the windshield. It grew heavier and heavier and before long it was coming down in big, fat drops that made it hard to see. I looked down and saw the outline of a city below, with the shape of an a small airport to the north. I pulled the throttle to idle and set the trim for a steep descent. I flew past the field and then made a steep left turn to line up with the runway. A slight crosswind tried to blow me off the centerline and I had to act quickly to counter it. As the wheels touched the pavement, the water made braking a little spongy, but I had more than enough time to pull onto one of the taxiways on the right. I parked and climbed down, staying under the wing to keep myself dry as I looked around. I was then that a flash of lightning lit the sky. I counted the seconds and was only at seven when the clap of thunder followed. That meant it was close, and I had gotten myself down just in time. Sometimes it's funny how things work out. If I hadn't stopped at that little place on that particular day, I'd have never met Bruce.

Yes, it's great little freeware aircraft!

Won't even speculate on that ;)

I'm inbound to the ZZTOP waypoint. Oddly, it's not in Texas, but over the middle of the Atlantic.

Loaded with equipment and personnel, we flew from Washington all the way to Laredo, Texas. From the airport, we drove south until the River was directly ahead, a bridge dividing the countries of Mexico and the United States. Lisa held up one hand and our small convoy came to a halt. We climbed out of the vehicles and took up positions, where we could just see the bridge. Although I hadn't noticed it until just then, most of the people in the area had been cleared out, and I admit I was pretty terrified about what was to come. One person appeared on the bridge, then another and another until there was a whole crowd. They were carrying weapons. Lisa motioned with her hand and several of our group stood and fired. I clamped my hand over my ears at the din. One of the men just ahead of me fell and Lisa hurried to his side. As she reached him, she spun around as blood spurted from her head. I didn't know what to do, Despite myself, I was on my feet and I hurried from one covered location to the next, leaving the scene behind. How I wasn't picked off like the others, I still don't know. I didn't stop moving until I found myself at the perimeter of a small, grass airfield. There was a small plane parked at one end of the runway, while a boy no older than a teen ager stood not far away. I crept up, keeping to the trees as long as I could, then darted to the plane. I started the engine, catching the boy's attention. He came running to the plane as I shoved the throttle forward. I left him behind as I climbed away.

Looks good.

I'd really like to tell you all the things that happened next, how we prepared for the next phase. But there are some security issues involved, and I really don't want to spend the rest of my life in some prison. But after a while, we were back in the air, to a destination soon to be revealed.

It was a very odd effect of icing on the windshield in a 3rd party aircraft. Turned on the window heat and it faded away. :)

You're probably asking "what does that mean?" The truth is, your guess would be as good as mine. Lisa was quiet, I would go as far as to say sullen, for the rest of the trip. We made our way back to Washington D.C., and to DEA headquarters. Once again, we went to the top floor, and into the same meeting room I'd seen on my previous visit. The room was empty, a table sat in the middle, a dozen chairs surrounded it, with additional ones against the walls. The walls were painted an off-white, while a worn industrial carpet covered the floor; it was stained in a few places were people hadn't been careful. There was a window in one corner of the room, which I hadn't noticed before. I looked out, and a long way below I could see the street, although I couldn't remember the name off the top of my head. The traffic was moving at a pretty good pace for that time of day, and the sidewalks were bustling. Lisa sat about midway along the table and I took the seat next to her. I could feel air coming from the vent above, and the breeze was somewhat refreshing. It was then that others began to fill the room, and one by one, each chair was occupied. A man stepped to the front of the room. He was tall and slender with grey hair, wearing a crisp, green military uniform, onto which several medals were pinned. He cleared his throat and the gentle murmur of conversation in the room, which I hadn't noticed until then, faded away. "Once again," he began, "We are gathered here due to the efforts of agent Samson." He gestured toward Lisa and she nodded her head to the room. He began an explanation of what he continued to refer to as the "situation," using a lot of jargon which the others seemed to comprehend. I, on the other hand, was a little lost. But I got the basics. At least two rival groups, whose names I'm not going to disclose, had been running drug across the border for years. Once the head had been cut off of one group, the other was moving to take over, they weren't going to win without a fight. There was the potential for civilian casualties, and possibly a lot of them. Many of those gathered were assigned teams they would lead, Lisa was one of them. With that, we were dismissed.