Wings of Steele - Destination Unknown (Book 1) (12 page)

"What
do you mean," said Stephen, scratching his head.

"Well
first, it was so dense the radar couldn't see into it, it
produced
some kind of intense interference. We're thinking EM –
electromagnetic, though I'm not sure how that's possible. The pilots
had serious difficulty communicating, both with each other and with
us. By their own admission, there was no rain, no wind and no
lightning. Just lots of interference. We tried to recall them, but
they got so close to the front... well, we lost all contact. Period.
All three aircraft went in,
none
came out. We had a second flight of two birds we vectored to join
Blue Flight when they first reported contact. As the second flight
approached the intercept point, they lost radar and communication
started to break up. We recalled them to a safe distance, as they
egressed, their electronics returned to normal...”

"What
do we do now?" Stephen rubbed his face with both hands.

Richards
pointed to the table. "We've got search and recovery
birds
out, here, here and here. They're flying overlapping patterns. We've
even sent two birds through the front on the same heading. The weird
thing is, is that the interference has stopped and communications
are completely normal."

"They
wouldn't have shot it down would they?" Stephen was beginning
to
get increasingly worried, and the headache gripping his temples
wasn't helping.

"No,
it's not likely, unless they were fired upon, they would need
clearance from me to fire
upon
a civilian aircraft. Besides, that wouldn't account for
my
two missing birds, and it would've left some kind of debris."

"So
what you're saying, is you haven't found
anything
yet?"

"That's
right, not a thing."

Stephen
was trying to wrap his head around the whole situation, "So
what the hell happened to them? They can't just disappear in
thin
air!"

Richards
shrugged. "Well, it's a
big
ocean... technically we're not in it, but we are
near
the
edge
of the Bermuda Triangle," he said offhandedly. “Lots of
unexplained stuff happens out here. I don't have to like it, but it
is
a fact.”

Stephen
Miles never believed in the mysterious stories and was in
no
mood for levity. There always had to be a logical answer, even if it
wasn't immediately apparent. He sat down on a chair at the Con and
rubbed his throbbing temples. "Got any coffee?"

SWEET
SUSIE, LOCATION UNKNOWN:
DOWN
THE RABBIT HOLE

Jack
Steele opened his eyes with a start and smacked his knees
sharply
on the control yoke. He was greeted by a totally enveloping darkness
and slowly came to realize he was still strapped into the pilot's
seat of the Sweet Susie. After unbuckling himself, he rubbed his
smarting knees.

Fighting
the strange disorientation he felt, his mind slowly began to work,
and vague recollections of the F18s came to him. He struggled to
remember more, but could get no further than the memory of the
failure of the port engine. Jack slid open the vent window and
peered into the darkness. The air smelled unusual, but the quiet
distant thrumming interrupted his train of thought. Wanting to see
into the inky darkness, he flipped on the running lights but they
only produced a weak glow. "Damn..." he turned them off
and turned on the interior cockpit lights which weren't much better.

What'cha
doin'?" asked the waking copilot, yawning.

"Trying
to figure out where the hell we are... any ideas?"

"Not
a clue... wow it's really dark...”

Jack
shook his head, “Thank you Captain Obvious...”

“
What's
with the lights?"

Jack
toggled first the port then the starboard engine starter with no
results. "Batteries must be down."

Fritz
stretched, dumping Maria on the floor with a thump.

"Ow!
Thanks a lot dog..!" she said, rubbing her head.

"Mmmmmnnphhh!"
sneezed Fritz, as he shook his coat into place.

"Well,
I think Fritz is right, we ought to get out and take a look
around,
see what's what." Jack worked his way out of the cockpit and to
the rear of the plane. He sat on the floor in the near darkness and
opened his flight bag. Brian and Maria moved to the back and sat
with him, Brian opening a soda from the cooler.

"Ok
skipper, what do we do first?"

Jack
pulled his stainless 1911 from the bag and ejected the empty
magazine
into
his lap. "Not knowing where we're at, I think it's prudent to
go fully prepared..." he said, sliding a full mag from the bag
into his gun. "Take a carbine and a couple of mags, load 'em
up, don't want to go out empty-handed... in fact, give me one too."

Brian
crawled past him and opened a crate, pulling out two of the
carbines.

"Hey,
don't forget me..." urged Maria.

"Are
you sure you..." Brian suddenly recalled who operated the Sweet
Susie's
gun turret, "yeah, sure." He pulled out a third carbine
and canvas belt pouches for the mags. Maria was already searching
the ammo boxes for the proper shells. Finding a box, she dragged it
back to where Jack was busy reloading the empty magazines for his
1911.

The
copilot slid himself beside Jack and handed one of the M1
carbines
to Maria, "Here, this one's yours, take good care of it."

"Thanks,"
she said with a smile, sliding the container of shells
in
the middle so everyone could reach.

Jack,
sitting cross-legged, remained silent as the trio went about
the
task at hand. Fritz sat on the pilot's seat in the cockpit, looking
out through the open vent window into the darkness, trying to
identify the strange smells only his sensitive nose could detect.
What really bothered the Shepherd was, that he couldn't find
anything vaguely familiar about this place. Even the sounds were
completely alien to him. He grew more and more unsettled, anxious to
explore this curious place.

Steele
stood, having traded the shoulder rig for the thumb break
thigh
holster. He belted it around his waist, which put the butt of the
1911 down on his upper thigh. Securing the holster to his lower
thigh with an adjustable strap, he tested the height and draw.
Satisfied with the results he snapped the holster strap over the
gun.

"You
about ready there, Wyatt Earp..?" said Maria with some
cynicism.

"Oh,
you're a real riot, Alice..!" he said in his best Ralph Cramden
imitation,
"keep it up and
bang
,
zoom...
to da'
moon
!"

Fritz
barked, he had just about enough of this, he wanted out.

"Chill
hamster...!" snapped Brian.

"Are
you two ready yet?" asked Jack, almost as impatient as the
Shepherd.

Maria
and Brian stood, carbines in hand. Jack picked up his M1 and
a
loaded magazine, sliding it into the rifle and pulling back the
bolt, chambering a round. "Do it just like that..." he
instructed. Jack briefly instructed them on the use of the sights
and safety switch. Maria, he thought, grasped it far better than she
should have. The trio picked up their mag pouches and headed to the
belly hatch. Fritz danced around the exit until Jack made the dog
sit quietly.

Laying
the M1 down next to the open hatch Jack descended down the
ladder.
With one hand and foot still on the ladder, he stepped onto the
concrete below. "Aaaarrrrggghhh..!" The shock of static
electricity that arced through his body from the floor, threw him
off the ladder and to the ground, numbing his senses. He laid on the
ground, thoroughly stunned.

Maria
descended the ladder, "Are you Ok? What happened..?"

Steele
was still too numb to speak although he tried to warn her
before
she touched down.

"Aaaaaiiiieeeee..!"
She was flung to the ground. Jack saw the blue
flash
of the shock and was amazed at its size.

Brian,
fearing a catastrophe and getting no response to his
inquiries,
jumped straight to the ground from the hatchway, carbine in hand.
Fritz followed him down, neither being shocked.

"What
the
hell
is going on out here..?" Brian,
seeing
the two people prone but alive and responsive, confused him.
Scratching his head, he turned to rest his M1 against the B25's
ladder.

Jack
sat up. "
NO..
!"
he was a millisecond too late.

"Yyyyeeeeoooowww..!"
It sat Brian three feet away, legs splayed. It
was
obvious, the buildup was dwindling, the copilot had not been shocked
as severely as Maria or Jack. Fritz, running in circles, got the
surprise of his life when his tail touched the ladder. He spun,
barking into the darkness, soliciting giggles from the crew.

Jack
went cautiously back to the ladder, with a substantial amount of
apprehension he put
his
hand on the rung... nothing happened. With a sigh of relief, he
lifted himself inside to retrieve his carbine. When he dropped back
to the ground, his comrades were waiting.

"What
the hell
was
that?"

Jack
shook his head, "Some kind of static charge buildup I guess...
he touched
the
ladder again, "the tires isolated the machine - we made the
ground connection..."

"Did
you notice this?" said the copilot, pointing at the ground,
"it's
weird, it doesn't look like concrete to me..."

"It's
not..." came a voice from the darkness.

The
trio spun in unison, carbines leveled, safeties clicking to the
off
position. Fritz spun, growling, irritated at being surprised. In
normal conditions, he could hear or smell someone long before a
threat occurred, but this strange place baffled his sense of smell
and sound did not seem to carry very far.

"Whoa,
take it easy..." said the bodiless voice.

"Step
over here... slowly, where we can see you..." said Jack. The
three
people from the Sweet Susie stood together under her wing in a
crouch, fingers poised over the triggers of their .30 cal carbines.

Two
men stepped out of the darkness, their hands raised, dressed
in
flight suits. Jack recognized the Navy flight suits. Lowering his
carbine he snapped the safety back on. Maria and Brian did the same.
"Commander Smiley I presume..." said Steele.

"Fancy
meeting you here..." said Smiley, putting down his hands,
"say,
that was some neat maneuver you pulled out there, ditching us like
that..."

"Thanks,
timing is everything... didn't get us very far though, did it...”
It was more of a rhetorical question. “So are we friends or
enemies...?”

"Do
we have a choice?"

"Sure.
You go your way we go ours," said Jack. "Or we work
together. As far as I'm
concerned,
there's no hard feelings here, and besides, there's safety in
numbers..."

"Well...
you sure don't
sound
like a murdering drug runner," said
Paul.

"Drugs..?
Funny...” he snorted. “Have a seat..." Jack said,
motioning
to
the ground. “Let me tell you a little story... you'll laugh,
you'll cry, you'll be amazed.” After everyone introduced
themselves, Steele went on to explain what actually happened - from
the very beginning.

The
conclusion reached and all questions answered, the five people sat
in a semicircle in reflective silence. Brian
was
the first to speak. "Paul, I think you're right, this doesn't
feel like concrete, it's too smooth..."

"Like
it's not hard enough..." said Mike Warren.

Strange
foggy images filled Jack's mind, he changed the subject,
"Do
you guys have any idea where we're at?"

"None,"
said Paul shaking his head, Mike was shaking his head
too.

"Do
you remember landing?"

"No..."
said Pappy, scratching his forehead in dismay, "y'know, that
hadn't
even occurred to me... till now... How
did
we make it to this landing strip? We were over water,
lots
of water."

"My
point exactly..." said Jack, standing up, "none of us can
remember
anything either. Our landing gear has been deployed, our batteries
are near dead..."

“
Ours
too,” added Paul.

"The
last thing I remember," said Mike, "was gettin' lost in
that
cloud,
no navgear, no electronics of any kind..." he paused, staring
off into the darkness, deep in thought. "I remember a
flame-out... and as I tried to restart it, I closed my eyes to say a
little prayer... when I opened them again... I was here."

"Our
planes landed themselves," said Jack without emotion, “how
is that possible?”

Mike
shrugged. "It's the best I can do for now."

"Anything
else?" asked Jack.

"Climbing
out of my plane and gettin' the damn shock of my life
!”
commented Paul.

"Us
too," chimed Maria with a grin, "knocked us on our butts.
Jack thinks it was some kind of static charge buildup."

Paul
nodded, “that might explain the whacked-out avionics and dead
batteries...”

Jack
had random images floating through his mind and
was
finding it difficult to tell which were real and which were
manufactured by his imagination. The pieces were disjointed but
began falling into place, the puzzle gradually becoming whole. His
recollections flooded forth, all the blanks gradually filling in,
the pieces fitting together... it still didn't seem real but he knew
it was... He stiffened and his eyes widened, watching it play again
in his mind.