Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental. The story contains graphic descriptions of sex between men. Anyone who is forbidden by law to read such material must stop now. This story is being posted to the Nifty Archive solely for the enjoyment of its readers.
David's Initiation: The Recovery 15
Dave's day actually seemed to go well and he didn't feel as tired as he expected. Upon returning to the hotel, he asked the desk clerk if he could leave a message for Ms. Maxwell. The clerk checked his computer and reported that Ms. Maxwell had checked out earlier that afternoon. For a moment Dave felt disappointed. All day he had rehearsed what he was going to say to Tiffany, how he was going to say goodbye. They had used each other in a time of need for both of them. Dave wished he hadn't done it but he had no regrets. Remembering the last time he was with Tiff, he pondered how this time was so different. Yes, he had called her a cunning little cunt when she tried to trick him with a sabotaged condom. But that was in the past and if they ran into each other a year from now they could still be good friends and not feel ashamed of what they had done. Then upon thinking about it Dave realized it was the perfect ending. He turned and began walking toward the restaurant when he heard someone call out, "Mr. Baker." He stopped and looked around.
"Hi, Mr. Baker, it's me, Liz."
"Say, Liz, how's my favorite flight attendant?"
"Ha-ha, I tell everyone you're my favorite passenger. What brings you to Seattle? And please don't say `an airplane,'" she said jokingly.
"Business," Dave replied with a smile. "I didn't see you on my last trip to Dallas. What happened?"
"Oh, I was getting bored with that run and thought I'd upgrade to a new airplane so now I have to fly a different trip. We just arrived a couple of hours ago and tomorrow evening we work the redeye back home. I'm beginning to think I made a mistake."
"Hey, that's the flight I'm on. We'll be together again."
"Good! I love it when I have passengers like you. Say, I'm just going in for dinner with the rest of the flight crew, why don't you join us?"
"Oh, I don't know, Liz, you think it'd be okay?"
"Sure. C'mon, I'll introduce you." Liz took hold of Dave's arm and practically dragged him into the restaurant. She introduced him to Sean McGregor, the copilot, and the rest of the cabin crew. Sean expressed his regrets that the captain wasn't joining them, he had other plans. Dave was immediately attracted to Sean but he was careful not to stare. Although Dave was younger than most of the crew he was old enough and he felt comfortable. It turned out to be a fun evening and helped Dave forget about Tiffany's abrupt departure.
Thursday evening, Dave arrived at the airport and checked in for the redeye flight home. Upon boarding the airplane, Liz helped him locate his seat, 3-C on the aisle. Once settled, Dave reset his wrist watch to the eastern time zone. The flight departed on time and with the aid of a palatable meal of chicken marsalla and a glass of Glen Ellen Chardonnay, Dave was soon asleep.
Up in the cockpit after a few hours of flight, Captain Wally Houston and First Officer Sean McGregor were calmly monitoring their route of flight and the aircraft systems.
"Cirrus 1347 (the controller pronounced `thirteen forty-seven'), Salt Lake Center..."
Sean picked up the microphone, "Salt Lake, 1347, go ahead..."
"Roger, Denver Center now on one-two-three point three-five (123.35)...
"Roger, twenty-three-thirty-five (23.35), good night sir." Sean flipped the toggle switch to select the other radio where he had just set new frequency. He paused for a second then, "Denver, Cirrus 1347, Flight Level three-seven-zero (370)."
"Roger 1347, three-seven-zero."
Sean returned the hand mike to its holder and turned to Wally. "Mind if I take a short snooze?"
"No, I'll wake you in about thirty minutes and then I'll take mine."
"Good. We just checked in with Denver Center and we'll be with them for quite a while. Your radios." Sean pulled the handle on the right side of his seat and the back reclined. Then he flipped the rudder foot-peddles up out of the way and was almost immediately asleep. The FAA doesn't approve of any cockpit crewmember sleeping during flight but many foreign carriers allow it and recent studies clearly indicate that a nap of as little as thirty minutes helps refresh the crewmember and make him more alert during critical phases of flight like approach and landing.
Captain Wally, as he was affectionately called, sat looking out the left window thinking about retirement. He had been with the airline for over thirty years and was enjoying the fruits of being very senior. He wouldn't normally be on this run but he had dropped a trip earlier in the month and had to make it up, his ex-wife needed the money. Wally was at least 35 pounds over weight, never exercised, and was known to tip the bottle quite heavily. It was a throwback to a life when the industry was young and a pilot's reputation depended on his ability to burn the candle at both ends. He hadn't been feeling well lately and was apprehensive about the doctor's appointment he had waiting for him next Monday.
Wally looked over at Sean and envied his youth. Seeing Sean sleeping so peacefully reminded him of his own son when he was younger. Suddenly Wally felt an intense pain in the middle of his chest. He inhaled sharply and deeply. The pain quickly spread to his left shoulder and he couldn't move his arm. Then he slumped back in his seat which fortunately was partially reclined. Otherwise he might have fallen forward into the control column.
"Dave... Dave... Dave..." "Huh... Paul... where are you?" "I'm here, babe, wake up. There's trouble in the cockpit." "Wha... what, trouble?" "Wake up, Dave, trouble in the cockpit. Tell the flight attendant!" "Yeah... yeah! Paul?" Dave opened his eyes; he was wide-awake but it took him a couple of seconds to orient himself to his surroundings. He looked at his watch: 03:18 AM.
Damn!' Dave thought. Was that a dream? I'm sure Paul said to tell the flight attendant something about the cockpit. What was it? Trouble... trouble in the cockpit. That's it.'
He unbuckled his seatbelt and walked toward the forward bulkhead. Liz and another flight attendant were sitting on their uncomfortable looking fold-down seats chatting. Liz looked up when she saw Dave.
"Can I help you, Mr. Baker?"
"Liz, I don't want to alarm you but is everything okay in the cockpit?"
"Why yes. The Captain would have told me if there was a problem."
"I'd appreciate it if there were some way you could check it out and let me know, I just have an uneasy feeling."
Liz unbuckled her seatbelt and stood up. "Now, I'm sure everything is just fine. Why don't you go back and sit down and I'll check with the Captain."
Dave agreed, turned around and returned to his seat. Liz removed the telephone-style handset from its holder and pressed the button that rang in the cockpit. After waiting for about thirty seconds with no answer she pressed the button again. After a third try with no answer Liz decided it was time to investigate further. She went into the galley and found the cockpit door key that was stored in a secret location.
Liz slowly opened the cockpit door and looked in. At first everything looked normal and quiet. `Perhaps too quiet,' she thought. She stepped all the way into the cockpit and closed the door behind her. Both pilots appeared to be sleeping -- that was certainly not normal. Liz quickly decided that if she was to awaken one of them it should be the copilot. She moved closer to Sean's seat, reached out and shook his shoulder."
"Hum... huh.. Jeez, time to wake up already?" Sean said as he raised his seat back and looked around. "Oh, hi, Liz. What're you doing here?" That was a question of surprise, not any kind of challenge.
"When I didn't get an answer to my page I thought I'd better come in and check. I guess you were both taking a little nap, huh?"
"Yeah, Wally was supposed to wake me before he took his; I guess he couldn't wait." When Sean looked across the cockpit there was something about Wally that didn't look right. He reached across the center console and gently jostled Wally's right arm which appeared to be resting on his chest. "Wally?" The arm immediately fell limply to the armrest. Sean's hand quickly recoiled back to his side of the cockpit. Sean quickly sat more erect in his seat as a tingle ran up his spine and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. He reached across the console again and placed his hand on Wally's wrist, feeling for a pulse.
"Oh fuck!" Sean said in quiet disbelief. His entire body felt electric. "Liz?" Sean said as he turned and looked at his Lead Flight Attendant.
"Is he..." she started to ask but stopped.
"Oh shit, I'm afraid to say. You wanna see if you can find a pulse?"
Liz slowly, hesitantly, carefully, reached out and placed her fingers on the side of Wally's neck trying to locate a pulse in his carotid artery. After a few seconds she withdrew her hand and shook her head. "What do we do now?"
"Shit! Let me think. I gotta think." Sean stared at the instrument panel in front of him as if hoping some solution would appear. He instinctively knew that he was now responsible for this flight and everyone on it. "Ok! We have to get him out of that seat. I don't want him falling into the control column if we encounter any turbulence or during landing. You think you can get him out?"
"Not on your life! Maybe if we work together... "Can't!" Sean interrupted emphatically. "I can't leave this seat, someone's gotta fly this machine. You have to find someone to help you."
"What about Mr. Baker?"
"Who's he?"
"You remember, you met him at dinner Wednesday night at the hotel."
"Nah, we can't get him involved."
"Well in some respects he already is. He's the person who told me there was trouble in the cockpit."
"He what?!" Sean exclaimed in questioning disbelief.
"Yeah, he came to me and asked if everything was okay in the cockpit. I assured him it was but then after I paged you three times with no answer I got nervous and decided to investigate for myself. It's a good thing I did!"
"Cirrus 1347, Denver Center now on 124.55."
Sean grabbed the hand mike and, "Roger, Denver, 24.55." Sean was setting the new frequency at the same time he reached for the mike. After a momentary pause, "Denver, Cirrus 1347, 370."
"Roger, Cirrus 1347, 370." Dave returned the mike to its holder and turned back to Liz. "Okay, see if he's willing to help. This situation is way off the scale. I feel like I'm flying by the seat of my pants on this."
"Okay, I'll go check."
As soon as Liz left the cockpit Sean took a deep breath and let out a long, loud sigh. `Lord, we could use a little help here. We've got 157 souls on this airplane and I can't imagine that time is up for all of them,' he thought then reached over and pulled his laptop from its storage case. He opened the lid, pressed the "ENTER" key and it woke up; it was already running because it was linked through an umbilical-like cord to the airplane computer. In a few seconds he was scrolling through the Company Operations Manual to see if there was any guidance for this kind of situation. There wasn't.
Liz walked cautiously to seat 3C and squatted down beside it. "Mr. Baker," she spoke softly so as to not disturb other passengers, "would you mind following me to the cockpit, we need your help."
"Me? In the cockpit? Are you serious?"
"Dead serious." Liz realized the significance of her comment.
"But, Liz, I don't know anything about airplanes."
"Please, we need you."
Dave couldn't say `No.' He unbuckled his seatbelt and followed Liz to the cockpit door, which she opened with her key. She stepped into the cockpit and move to one side so Dave could enter, then she closed the door behind them.
Dave felt very strange. It was like stepping into a secret chamber that only a few privileged individuals get to visit. The first thing that caught his eye was two rows of CRTs that stretched from one side of the cockpit to the other. A few years ago he had seen a large poster of the inside of a B-747 cockpit and it was packed full of dials and gages and levers and strange looking panels. What he was looking at now was totally different. The cockpit was eerily quiet. Then Dave began adjust his focus and noticed one large crewmember in the left seat who appeared to be asleep and then the other, Sean, who was looking at a laptop screen.
Sean noticed movement out of the corner of his eye and turned. "Hi, Dave, thanks for coming up. I'm Sean and we need your help." Sean quickly connected Dave with the young, good-looking man who joined the crew at dinner two nights before. And by addressing Dave by his first name and telling him he was needed, Sean had masterfully elevated Dave to his level and made him a member of the team. Sean had seven years as an Air Force pilot and flight leader flying F-15s and he seemed to have a natural ability to motivate and lead people. He left the Air Force because of the many deployments that kept him separated from his family. He wanted a better life. Sean was almost immediately hired by Cirrus Airline and over the past seven years had worked his way to his present position as a company pilot, and simulator instructor. His instructor status qualified him to fly in either the Captain or First Officer (copilot) seat.
"Let me get right to the point," Sean began. "The Captain is dead, God rest his soul." Sean made the sign of the cross and Dave made some immediate assumptions about Sean's religion. "And I need you to help Liz remove him from that seat. The risk of him falling against the control column," Sean reached across the cockpit and placed his hand on the half-steering wheel and the column it was attached to that is used to manipulate the flight controls, "and causing us to loose control is just too great. Can you do that for us?"
Dave was shocked, not only at the news that the Captain was dead but the matter-of-fact manner that Sean said it. Realizing that the situation was urgent, Dave recovered quickly. "Just tell me how to do it," Dave replied anxiously. He was instantly under Sean's command.
Sean showed Dave how to release the seat back and recline it almost parallel to the floor. Once that was done, Dave was able to slip his hands under Wally's armpits and get a good enough grip to pull him aft, away form the control column. Liz stood at the aft end of the center console, leaned forward and guided Wally's legs and feet to make sure they didn't make contact with the throttles, spoiler lever or any other controls.
Once Wally was on the floor, Sean directed Dave to move him directly behind where Sean was sitting and lay him flat. That would keep him out of the way so he wouldn't block the cockpit door. Then Sean had Dave and Liz stand back while he got out of his seat and quickly slid into the captain's seat.
"Why did you do that?" Dave asked.
"The control for steering after we land is over here on the left side. I need to be able to get the plane off the runway after landing. And, I can also get us to the gate," Sean explained. "Have a seat, Dave."
Dave felt like his breath was taken away, he stopped breathing for a moment. "Oh, Sean, I couldn't do that!" he exclaimed. "What if I did something that caused us to crash?"
Sean began to laugh. "I won't let you do anything that risky, I may need an extra pair of hands from time to time. You'll be just fine. Now, have a seat." Sean held out his right hand invitingly.
Hesitatingly Dave inched his way forward and managed to get himself seated, if not somewhat awkwardly. He sat like a stone figure with his hands in his lap, afraid to touch anything.
"Go ahead and fasten you seatbelt and start acting like you belong there," Sean encouraged Dave cordially
"Yeah, Dave, you're a natural," Liz verbally stroked him and smiled confidently. "Say, Captain," Liz said, emphasizing `Captain' to recognize Sean's new position of authority. "I need to get back to the main cabin. Call if you need anything."
"Thanks, Liz, I will. I have good support now," Sean replied as he smiled at Dave. "Oh, I could use a cup of black coffee when you have time." Liz left the cockpit and returned almost immediately then left again.
Sean give Dave a guided tour of the cockpit, explaining in general terms what the various dials and gages were for. He had Dave place his hands on the flap handle and the landing gear handle and also had him pick up the hand mike. When finished, Sean pulled the Captain's laptop from its cradle and began typing. The window he had open on the screen allowed him to send a coded instant message to Operations Control. Using special codes in the Operations Manual Sean composed the following:
"1347: Request contact with Blue 2." (Blue 2 was Flight Duty Officer who represented the chief pilot.) After about thirty seconds the laptop beeped signaling an IM had arrived, "Control: Blue 2, go ahead." "1347: 01-39, minus 20. Please advise." (Translation: the Captain died about 20 minutes ago. What do I do now?) This time there was a delay of at least 60 seconds. Sean could only imagine the chaos that might be occurring in the Control Room. "Beep!" "Control: Confirm 01-39!!!" Sean knew he now had their undivided attention. "1347: Roger, 01-39. Advise please." This time there was a delay of almost two minutes. "Beep!" "Control: Standby for Blue Leader." "1347: Roger." Sean strongly suspected the Duty Officer was dragging the Chief Pilot out of bed for this one. Sean knew that the Chief Pilot had the capability to respond from his home so it probably wouldn't take long.
"Cirrus 1347, Denver..."
"Dave, take the mike in your hand." Dave picked up the mike. "Now putt it up to your mouth and answer with the following, `Roger, Denver, 1347'..." Dave hesitated. "Go ahead, you can do it."
Dave placed the mike in front of his mouth, pressed the button and said with a shaky voice, "Roger, Denver. 1347..."
"Kansas City Center now on one-three-one point eight-zero (131.80)..." Sean instantly dialed the new frequency into the other radio.
"Okay, tell him, `Roger, thirty-one point eight, good night sir'."
"Roger, thirty-one point eight, good night sir," Dave repeated what Sean said. Sean flipped the toggle switch to select the other radio where he had just set the new frequency then looked at Dave.
"Okay, now key your mike and say, `Kansas City, Cirrus 1347, Flight Level three-seven-zero (370)."
Dave looked at Sean rather unsure of himself, pressed the mike button and said, "Kansas City, Cirrus 1347, Flight Level three-seven-zero (370)."
"Roger 1347, three-seven-zero (370)." Dave felt very nervous.
"Good job, Dave, Liz is right, you are a natural." Sean said with a smile as he turned his attention back to his laptop, which just beeped. "Oh, there's Number One.
"Control: 1347, Blue Leader, confirm 01-39." "1347: Roger, Blue Leader, 01-39." "Control: How is lady?" (Translation: is the airplane okay? "1349: Lady is perfect." "Control: Can 02 go left?" (Translation: Can the copilot move to the Captain' seat?) Sean suspected that by now the Chief Pilot had reviewed his complete record and knew he was left seat qualified. "1347: Roger, WILCO." Sean wanted his Chief Pilot to think he was directing the action when Sean was way ahead of him and had already changed seats. "Beep!" "Control: Roger, 124-176-94-114. Confirm." (Translation: Continue to destination. Use auto-land feature. Will meet you at the gate. Remain in cockpit.) "1347: Roger, 124-176-94-114." "Control: See you on the ground." "1347: Roger."
Sean cleared the screen so that if Control sent him a new message it would stand out. Then he set the laptop on the shelf to his left and breathed a sigh of relief.
"Thanks, Dave, that was a big help." Sean finally said after a few moments of silence.
"What happens now?" Dave asked.
"Well, we're going to continue to our destination, we're going to let this airplane land itself, and then I'll taxi the airplane to the gate and after everyone deplanes we'll take proper care of Wally here."
"What about me? Won't I be in trouble for impersonating a pilot?" Dave was seriously concerned.
"After we land I'm going to have Liz keep the cabin lights down until we reach the gate. After we exit the runway I want you to return to your seat and act as though everything of fine."
"Okay. I can do that."
"Can you wait for me in the terminal, I want to introduce you to the Chief Pilot."
"Sure. I just sit here and watch and talk on the radio?"
"Yeah, that'll be a great help. When we get closer to our descent point I'll show you a few more things you can help me with." Sean was trying to keep Dave as relaxed as possible. "Excuse me for a couple of minutes while I run through some checks."
"Sure," Dave replied, what else could he say? He watched as Sean pressed buttons and switches that changed the information displayed on several of the CRTs. The look of concentration on Sean's face was very captivating. As he studied Sean, Dave's mind began to wander. He looked to be about 30 -- 31 years old with a slim athletic physique, dark brown hair, thick eyebrows, long eyelashes, and a face that resembled Lance Armstrong, but better. The scent of a pleasant after-shave touched Dave's nostrils. It was probably Sean's; activated by perspiration-induced stress he was under. Dave caught himself wondering what he would look like in the nude. In his mind, Dave saw an image of Sean standing in a shower; it was like looking through a video camera. Sean's head was tilted back slightly and his mouth was partly open as if he were experiencing a moment of intense pleasure. The camera pans slowly down and catches the water cascading over Sean's smoothly rounded shoulders and running in rivulets down his firm torso. Then Dave's head comes into view. He is on his knees, taking his time giving Sean the best blowjob of his life. Dave's hands are flat against Sean's upper thighs, moving upward and toward the middle. Dave's thumbs softly caress Sean's skin just where his lower abdomen joins with his upper thighs causing the muscles to quiver with pleasure. Dave's hands continue upward, across Sean's washboard stomach and onto his nicely formed pecks where Dave's thumbs toys with Sean's erect nipples. Dave can feel the head of Sean's manhood slip tightly into his throat, seeking its depths. Dave's hands then glide back down to Sean's waist then around behind where they join at the top of the crease to Sean's ass. Slowly he slides his fingers down the crease and stops when each hand tantalizingly grips two mounds of firm ass cheeks. Moving his right hand back up to Sean's left nipple and his left hand around to the front, Dave firmly squeezes and kneads Sean's testicles. Dave senses that Sean is close when his nuts start to draw closer to his body and..."
"Cirrus 1347, Kansas City..." the controller's voice blasts from the cockpit speaker shattering the quiet cockpit atmosphere and snapping Dave back to reality. He looks back across the cockpit and Sean nods, "Go ahead, just answer him, you know what to say." Sean's smile of quiet confidence reassured Dave and he picked up the mike.
"Kansas City, 1347..."
"Kansas City Center now on one-two-nine point three-three (129.33)..." Again Sean dialed the new frequency into the other radio.
Remembering how he had done this a few miles back, Dave looked at Sean, pressed the mike button and said, "Kansas City, Cirrus 1347, Flight Level three-seven-zero (370)."
"Roger 1347, three-seven-zero (370)." Dave was filled with a sense of accomplishment and smiled. He was also glad for the interruption because it broke his erotic focus on Sean and gave his brain time to think. He returned the hand mike to its holder and turned back toward Sean.
"So," Sean said, continuing the conversation. "You know what I do for a living, what about you? What line of work are you in?" Sean was no dummy; Dave was obviously a professional of some type. He was wearing a white shirt and a tie with the sleeves rolled up two turns. And, his seat was in the First Class section.
"I work for Hastings and Associates, I'm an architect," Dave said proudly.
"Say, I've heard of them. That's one of the largest architectural firms in the Southeast. What kind of things do you do for them? Ever build houses?"
"Mostly I work on designing large corporate structures. I recently got involved in designing a major sports complex. As for designing houses, I've only built one, my own. Just finished it last month." A sense of pride was obvious in Dave's voice.
"Which do you like better?" Sean asked.
"Oh, the large projects are a real challenge but building homes is much more fun, an more rewarding too." Dave could feel his cock shrinking, leaving behind a trail of lubricant.
"Hey, my wife and I have been thinking about building a new home. Maybe we should get together and see what happens."
When Sean mentioned his wife, Dave thought, Why does it seem like the good ones are already taken?' Dave looked away hoping Sean wouldn't catch on to what he was thinking. He's not wearing a ring, I would have noticed that. Maybe he's like a lot of construction workers, they don't wear a ring on the job for safety reasons. Oh well...'
"Maybe you'd like to take a look at my home and see what you think?" Dave said, returning to the point of their conversation. The idea of building for someone else interested him greatly.
"I was just thinking about that. Would you mind? Maybe that's the wrong question. Are you interested in building another house?"
"I've been thinking about that and it might be something I'd like to do on the side. Maybe we could meet for lunch somewhere and talk. But I'd be happy to show you my home."
"Do you have a business card with a number where I can contact you?"
"Sure," Dave replied as he reached for his hip pocket and struggled to remove his wallet. Finding the card, Dave took a pen from his shirt pocket, added his home phone number to the card and handed it to Sean. "Call any time."
"This is Friday, what's the possibility you could join Sophia and me for lunch Saturday?"
"That'll work for me, I have a golf lesson Saturday morning and I should be free for lunch after that."
"Where do you play?"
"I just joined at a place called Shady Creek, ever hear of it?"
"That's where I play." Sean replied excitedly. "Why don't we meet there for lunch then?"
"Eleven-thirty, twelve?" Dave suggested.
"Make it twelve. If Sophia has any other ideas I'll call you."
"Great. Saturday at twelve, I'll be there."
Dave and Sean continued their conversation, interrupted periodically by calls from Air Traffic Control, until it was time to think about descending for landing. Sean briefed Dave about how to operate the flaps and pointed to the different settings. He also explained how to operate the landing gear handle.
When ATC cleared the flight for descent they also cleared it for the approach with a programmed landing time of 0905Z (0505 local Eastern Time). Dave was amazed and intrigued as he watched Sean program the data into the computer. He had no idea what Sean was doing and from then on, Sean took control of all the radio transmissions. The descent went smoothly and after they leveled off at about 3000 Ft., the aircraft began to slow.
"Flaps 10," Sean called out. Following Sean's earlier instructions, Dave took hold of the flap lever and, under Sean's watchful eye, moved it to position 10. Shortly Sean called for Flaps 20' and Flaps 30' in succession. "Gear Down!" Sean commanded and Dave reached forward and moved the handle to the Down position. The airplane seemed to shudder for just a moment and Dave could feel it slowing even more. Dave watched as the throttles moved forward automatically to stop the deceleration.
Dave was torn between watching what was going on inside the cockpit and the beautiful scenery outside. The night sky was completely clear and the view of the large metropolitan area was so beautiful it was almost breathtaking. Dave suddenly remembered the times he and Paul sat looking out the window high atop the Westin Hotel and watched as airplanes took off and landed quietly. Now he was in one of those airplanes and wondered if anyone was watching.
Dave could see the runway straight ahead and suddenly he watched the airplane nose over just a little and the throttles began to move aft. "Flaps 45," Sean called and Dave moved the flap handle to the last position. After that, everything happened so fast that Dave had trouble keeping up. The airplane appeared to be plunging toward the runway. A strange, computerized voice was calling out altitudes in feet: "100," "50," "40," "30," "20," "10." Then the airplane touched down on the main landing gear and the nose slowly lowered until the to the nose gear touched town. Dave saw a lever on the Sean's side of the center console move rapidly aft, there was a loud noise caused by the thrust reversers deploying. The brakes were applied automatically and the airplane began to decelerate rapidly.
It seemed like only seconds later that Sean was turning the aircraft off the runway. Dave felt dazed by the speed with which everything had happened.
"You okay, Dave?" Sean asked.
"Yeah... sure... that was awesome! Wow!"
"Really got your attention, eh?" Sean chuckled. "It's time to raise the flaps now, you ready?"
"Yeah," Dave replied as he placed his hand on the flap handle and moved it all the way up and forward while Sean watched closely.
"Thanks, Dave, you've been a great help. You ought to think about becoming a p ilot."
"Not on your life, that's going to be a once in a lifetime event, never to be repeated."
"Okay," Sean laughed, "whenever you think you're ready, unbuckle and find your way back to your seat. Thanks again, for all the help, I'll see you in the terminal."
"Yeah, Sean, I may never get over this. See you inside." Dave unfastened his seatbelt and shoulder harness, climbed out of the seat. He noticed that his legs seemed to feel a little weak when he first stood up -- excitement can cause that. On the way back to his seat he passed Liz and she gave him the thumbs-up signal.
"Nice landing, Mr. Baker," she whispered as Dave walked away. He turned around and saw that Liz was smiling, she was pulling his leg.
Dave was the first one off the plane and upon entering the terminal he saw five men in dark suits waiting in the gate area. He took a seat and waited for Sean to come out. After the last passenger had deplaned, Liz came out and talked to the `suits' and they followed her back down the Jetway. As they went onto the airplane the rest of the cabin crew, including Liz exited and left the gate area. About five minutes later two men and a woman dressed in white coats came running up the concourse with a gurney and disappeared down the Jetway. Five minutes after that, the white coats walked almost casually back into the terminal pushing and pulling the gurney with what Dave presumed was a shroud covered Captain Wally lying on it.
About fifteen minutes later Dave heard voices and Sean emerged from the Jetway accompanied by the five suits'. Sean really looked sharp, and sexy, in his uniform with his hat on his head. Sean and one of the suits' walked toward him.
"Dave I want to introduce Captain Grady Lucas, our Chief Pilot. Captain Lucas, this is Dave Baker."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Baker, Sean has a number of good things to say about you."
"Thank you, Captain Lucas, it's a pleasure to meet you too."
"I suspect you're probably in a hurry to get somewhere right now but would you be willing to meet me in a few days so we can talk?"
"Of course. I do need to get home and on to the office for a meeting," Dave said as he reached for his wallet. "Here's my card, I'm sure we can arrange a meeting."
"Thank you very much. And..." Lucas looked Dave squarely in the eyes. "I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't say anything about your flight until after we've talked. Can you do that?"
"Certainly. I don't have anything to say to anyone," Dave said as he returned Lucas' look and then glanced at Sean. Dave's Army experience had taught him how to play this game.
Saturday morning Dave was seated in the casual bar/dining room of the country club watching the door, it was about 12:10 PM. At that moment he recognized Sean entering the room with a lovely, sweet-looking lady at his side, both of her hands were holding onto Sean's upper arm like she didn't want to let him get away. Dave rose from his chair to greet them.
"Sophia, this is Dave Baker, Dave, this is my wife Sophia." Sophia extended her hand, palm down. Dave took it and lightly, politely held it for a moment.
"It's nice to meet you, Sophia, Sean tried to tell how lovely you are but he couldn't do you justice." Dave smiled.
"Well Sean's had a lot of nice things to say about you -- all good too," Sophia said. Dave released her hand and she withdrew it. "Why don't you two sit down while I make a trip to the lady's room. I won't be long." Sean just nodded and Sophia turned and headed for the door.
"Beautiful lady, Sean, you're a lucky man."
"Thanks, Dave, I definitely got the better bargain in this marriage. How're things going?"
"Fine, I guess, if you can call a minimal slice fine," Dave chuckled. "Any fallout from the flight?"
"No, everything is quiet. Officially Wally died seconds after parking at the gate and nobody seems interested in challenging that explanation."
"What were you doing in the airplane that took so long?"
"Ho-ho," Sean laughed. "There's an old aviation saying that goes something like this, `after the accident, assemble upwind and get your story straight.' That's kind of what we were doing."
"That's pretty good," Dave chuckled at the humor. "So what can I expect when I meet with Captain Lucas?"
"I suspect he'll have a lawyer with him and they'll probably offer lifetime First Class travel for you and a companion anywhere you want to go within our system," Sean explained. "And I'm sure the lawyer will want you to sign some papers defining a few things. "Will any of that be a problem for you?" Sean asked. Dave could clearly see the concerned look on Sean's face.
"No, I just don't want you to get into trouble," Dave replied. At that moment he saw Sophia reenter the casual dining room and he began to stand again. Sean picked up on what Dave was doing and did the same.
Sophia sat at the table with her husband on her right and Dave on her left. After the waitress took their orders Sophia, while looking at Dave and said, "Honey, who does Dave remind you of?"
"Hmmm... I don't know, who?"
"Please don't say Jude Law," Dave pleaded.
"Oh no, much better than that," Sophia stressed. "I'd say Ryan Phillippe, wouldn't you?" She looked at her husband. "But he's much cuter than Ryan!" There was that word again, `cute'. Dave cringed inside.
"You mean that guy in "I Know What You Did Last Summer?"
"Yeah, that's him, doesn't he?"
"I think you're right, at least as cute," Sean said with a smile to let Dave know he was playing along with his wife.
"So, are you married, Dave?"
"No..." Dave hesitated. "Not yet, anyway."
"Oh my dear, I can think of several women who would just love to meet you. We'll have you over some time and get you introduced."
"Sophia, maybe Dave would rather find someone on his own?"
"Nonsense. Men don't have a clue about how to meet good women. We'll have a coming out' party for him." Inwardly Dave cringed again -- a coming out' party? If she only knew!
"My wife fancies herself a amateur matchmaker, Dave, don't take this too seriously, Sean chuckled. Dave laughed nervously to show he was in tune with the little joke.
Over lunch, Sean let Sophia explain what she had in mind for her new home. She wanted a Mediterranean style villa made of stucco with seven bedroom, eight bathrooms, a six-car garage and a large pool.
Dave was instantly interested; it sounded like an exciting project. As he listened, he was also intrigued by the non-verbal ways Sophia and Sean communicated their love to each other. There was a hand that gently touched a wrist, a subtle smile, a loving glance from time to time. They were obviously in love with each other. They reminded him of the only other married couple Dave knew, Kate and John, and he didn't get to see them that often. He began to develop a warmth, a trust, a good feeling about Sophia and Sean. He liked them and sensed they liked him too.
At some point they mutually agreed that lunch was over and Dave decided to invited them to look at his home to see his work and to get some idea if they thought he could do the job. With Sean and Sophia following him, Dave drove around the circular driveway and stopped in front of the main entrance. Sean was the first comment by explaining that he and Sophia had purchased a lot in the same subdivision, not more than a half-mile from where they were standing. Sophia seemed overwhelmed by Dave's home; super impressed would be a better expression. And after getting a tour of the house, she decided that Dave was the architect she had to have. Sean asked if he could recommend a builder and Dave told him Sam had built his home gave and him one of Sam's business cards, which he just happened to have in his wallet.
That evening Dave began designing Sophia and Sean's new home.
(To be continued.)
Author's Note: I want to thank my aviation expert, whom shall remain anonymous, for his assistance in making this chapter as realistic as possible. However, he issues a big caution that although Dave's experience is possible, it is highly unlikely. Never the less, I hope you enjoyed it.