Wings of Steele - Destination Unknown (Book 1) (3 page)

Driving
past the first two hangars, he slowed at the third, a well-kept
aluminum building, larger than the others in the row. The doors had
been rolled open all the way to allow full access. Jack let the
Cobra roll to a stop and the duo peered into the hangar. Inside sat
a beautifully restored B25-D Mitchell bomber from World War II. She
looked stunning sitting in the shade of the hangar, mission-ready.

Brian
strolled out from under the left wing grinning from ear to ear.
"Where ya been Skipper?" Five-foot-ten and solidly built,
Brian was a man with a ready smile and healthy sense of humor. His
wavy, sandy brown hair, although a bit longer than Jack's, was neat
and trimmed.

Miffed,
Jack ignored the question. "I didn't see your truck, where'd
you park?"

Brian
was still grinning but not wishing to press the issue... “All
the way in the back,” he replied, pointing to the back of the
hangar. “With the security system, they'll be safer inside.”

Jack
put the roadster in gear and rolled past his amused copilot without
saying a word. Brian knew Steele's competitive spirit - he hated to
lose at anything. As the Cobra rumbled slowly under the wing of the
B25, the echo of the car's low burble danced around the inside of
the expansive hangar. Jack scanned the left side of the fuselage,
his eyes pausing on the artwork of the reclining blonde pin-up girl
who had been expertly repainted, her colors bright and crisp. As he
passed under the tail and pulled up next to Brian's pickup truck at
the rear of the building, Jack unlatched the dog's harness
one-handed, Fritz disappeared out over the passenger door and hit
the ground at a run before Jack had the Cobra at a complete stop.
Jack stepped out of the car just in time to see Fritz crash into the
waiting, open arms of Brian.

"Hey
you big overgrown hamster, ready to go flying?" Barking an
affirmation, the Shepherd bounded around the inside of the hangar
his voice ringing off the metal walls.

Jack
marveled at how perfectly the old plane had been restored. As he
lovingly tucked-in his prized roadster with its cover for its
four-week nap, he thought about the first time he saw the plane...
if you could call it that. Jack had met Stephen Miles, the owner, a
year ago through the shuttle service when he delivered a replacement
plane to Stephen's commercial seaplane business on short notice.
Stephen took an immediate liking to the charismatic young pilot and
was eager to share his most impressive project to date... the
Sweet
Susie
.
At that time, the B25-D had only been in the hangar about three
months. The engines had been removed, the fuselage looked like hell,
and the control surfaces were simply worthless. Jack couldn't
imagine her surviving a stiff wind much less ever becoming airborne.

The
B25 "D" model was one of the later versions of the
Mitchell Bomber series. A formidable aircraft, she incorporated some
improvements with the combat proven standards. While retaining the
twin 50 cal. turret on top of the fuselage, four 50 cal. guns were
mounted facing forward. These four guns were fix-mounted forward
below the cockpit on the fuselage, two on either side, in single
mount pods. Two 50 cal. guns in the tail, one in the nose for the
bombardier, and one on each side of her waist capped off the B25-D's
armament.
All
the good it'll do her,
Steele thought,
the
only battle this plane is likely to fight is with the rust creeping
across her airframe.
Jack figured Stephen probably wasn't rowing with both oars in the
water but decided to humor him anyway. He thought, what the heck,
when you work with unlimited funds, you can accomplish almost
anything. And they did. Stephen's enthusiasm was severely
contagious, and the next twelve months transformed the old wreck
into a masterpiece.

Jack
found out the reason for Stephen's desire; his father who had passed
away prior to Susie's purchase was the plane's pilot during World
War II. Stephen had paid Jack well for all the time devoted to the
project and even gave him shuttles to do during times when they
waited for parts. The young pilot became very fond of the B25, as if
it were his own and was excited beyond description, when the Sweet
Susie rolled out of the hangar for her first flight in over forty
years. All her systems had been completely finished, but the paint
work had not yet begun. The B25 was a mishmash of colors; red
primer, zinc green and new, shiny silver wing and fuselage panels,
not to mention remnants of her original camouflage scheme. Both
Stephen and Jack flew her on the rebirth run, to test the systems
and try out her new power plants. The hardest thing was to get used
to the layout of avionics that had been added to supplement the
original and updated gauges. As oddly as she looked on the outside,
the Sweet Susie flew like a dream, lighter and faster than she had
been when originally built. The engines were completely rebuilt and
tweaked, to wring out every last horse the power plants could
provide, thanks to Stephen's master mechanics and engineers. If Jack
hadn't seen the remarkable transformation step by step, he wouldn't
have believed it was the same plane he saw the first time he had
walked into the hangar. The finishing touch was the paint, and that
had been completed about a week ago.

Jack,
bags in hand, strode towards the waiting copilot. "Damn, this
place looks so empty."

"I
was thinking the same thing," replied Brian, thinking back. "It
looked so much smaller when all that equipment was in here."
Only a few months ago, scaffolding surrounding the plane, the
engineer's office was filled with blueprints and plans, the machine
shop, welding equipment... and of course, all the people filled
every corner of the hangar. Crews worked independently on their own
assignments, but together as a collective with the common goal to
totally restore the historic B25 to new condition.

"Is
Susie ready to go?" Jack's voice snapped Brian back to present
reality.

"Yeah,
for the most part. She's fueled but I'm waiting for our weather
report, and George is going to check all her fluid levels."

"Ok,
great, let's get George to move her out onto the tarmac skirt and
we'll warm up the engines." Brian trotted off to find George.

"Where's
the cooler?!" Jack shouted, as the copilot departed.

"I
put it in the plane already!" Brian shouted back, as he
disappeared into the hangar.

Can't
afford to forget sodas and sandwiches, Jack thought. While he
waited, he tossed his bags up into the belly hatch, then began a
general inspection of the aircraft. Just as he finished, Brian
returned with George. The mechanic climbed into the seat of the tow
tractor and started its engine. Jack called Fritz to his side and
Brian handed his Skipper a copy of the weather report. The two
airmen studied their paperwork while George towed the Sweet Susie
out into the warm Florida sun. The B25 and her crew were going all
the way to Brazil and getting a good handle on the weather was an
important part of a safe flight. Sweet Susie and several other
existing B25s, all from the US., were headed to Rio De Janeiro for
the filming of a new movie. The planes would rendezvous in Rio then
move further South near Sao Paolo to begin filming.

Jack
motioned his copilot to the chart table. "I think we ought to
skirt this weather here," said Jack, pointing to the tip of the
Florida Keys. "We'll head east, pass Miami, and halfway to the
Bahamas we'll swing back south. We'll stop in Puerto Rico to fuel up
the tanks and take off in the morning."

Brian
pulled on his lower lip, deep in thought. "Could we..."

"Stay
an extra day? " interrupted Jack. "No, sorry..."
Brian frowned. "Besides," added Jack, "the scenery,
both geological and female is to die for, where we're headed."

The
copilot's expression brightened quite noticeably, "No kiddin?"

"Scout's
Honor," said Jack, crossing his heart and giving the Boy Scout
salute. Jack knew, because he'd been there the year before to
deliver a plane and was simply inundated with women. He wasn't sure
if it was him that attracted the women, or the simple fact that he
was an American. Being the kind of man who found it difficult to
turn down a beautiful woman, he didn't think about it much.

“
I
gotta call bullshit on that one...” challenged Brian, “you
were never a Boy Scout.” Jack gave him a dirty look. "Ok,
Ok, I believe you, so where do we go from Puerto Rico?"

"Maracaibo
or Caracas in Venezuela, where we'll stop for fuel again. We'll have
to see how the fuel holds up. We have an estimate on her fuel
consumption, but it's not carved in stone."

"Are
all these places safe?" asked Brian with raised eyebrows.

"You
got me, as far as I'm concerned, we sleep with the plane. Oh, and we
sleep armed... just in case." Steele's face had become
momentarily serious, and Brian wondered whether he should be
concerned or not. The copilot hesitated, then lost his train of
thought as he watched George unhook the tow tractor from the nose
gear of the B25. He unhooked the mechanism free with almost motherly
care. Jack and Brian exchanged glances as they quietly watched the
mechanic. He gave the warbird a loving pat on the fuselage, wiped an
unseen smudge off of the starboard engine nacelle and strode toward
the tractor without looking back. Without words, the two airmen
turned back to the chart table to finish their flight plans. As they
resumed reviewing their flight plan, the reclining Shepherd jumped
to his feet and awoofed, softly, but loud enough to get the
attention of the two fliers engrossed with their paperwork. A white
pickup truck had pulled through the gate and was headed straight
toward the Sweet Susie. Jack could see Stephen's company logo
emblazoned on the door of the truck as it slowed to a stop in front
of the right wing of the plane. A burly young man stepped out of the
truck on the driver's side, while Stephen exited the passenger door.

"I
couldn't let you leave without saying good luck and bringing you a
going-away present," shouted Stephen.

"So,
what did you bring us?" the two pilots queried, almost in
unison, grinning widely as they strode out to the tail of the truck.

"Come
see," chided the owner. At the back of the truck sat two long,
skinny wooden crates and fourteen small metal boxes Jack recognized
as military ammunition cans. Fritz jumped into the truck and gave
all the containers a close examination. The dog stared blankly at
his master.

"Well
it's not drugs," said Steele candidly with a smirk.

"You
know me better than that," Stephen injected with a hurt look.
He opened a wooden crate to reveal twelve neatly packed M1 carbine
rifles. "They're for the movie, so is this stuff." He
pointed to the metal boxes. Brian opened two of the metal
containers. One contained ammunition for the carbines, the other,
for the .50 cal guns of the Sweet Susie.

"Hey,
this is live ammo..." Brian exclaimed, pulling back in concern.
"What are we doing carrying real ammunition?
And
real guns?
”

"Relax,
relax..." Stephen waved his hand in an attempt to quiet the
copilot. "All this stuff is for the movie company. That..."
he said, pointing at the ammo boxes, "we could only get one
way. It will have to be converted by the techs on the movie site
before filming begins." Stephen handed Jack a bulging sealed
envelope. "All the proper documentation for this stuff is in
here." Jack took it and left it sealed.

“
Ok,
so let's load it up already, we're burning daylight." Jack
slapped the apprehensive copilot on the shoulder to punctuate. "Quit
worryin' will ya?" The pilot looked at his watch. "Let's
go,
let's
go
,
it's after ten already!”

“
Give
him a hand, Kevin," prompted Stephen. The burly driver of the
truck, who had stood silently and unmoving, hefted a crate of
carbines to his shoulder, in one clean motion. Brian grabbed two of
the metal ammo containers. The two men carried their burdens to the
open bomb-bay doors of the plane. Jack offhandedly wondered if
carrying any of that cargo was illegal. He dismissed the thought, he
trusted Stephen. Besides, with as much as he had invested in that
plane, Jack couldn't see him taking such a foolish risk as to do
something illegal with it. But he promised himself he would open the
envelope and check all the paperwork while they were in the air
before they left US airspace. Jack and Stephen walked back to the
shade of the hangar and the flight plans on the chart table. Fritz
chose the shade under the wing of the B25 so he could more closely
watch the loading of the plane.

"These
look just fine. Your fuel will be arranged and waiting, I'll see to
it personally." Stephen handed the pilot another envelope,
"There's ten thousand dollars here... just in case. Use it if
you need something, or whatever..." he said with a shrug.