style="font-size:15px;"> Cal’s never-ending appetite and thirst were as good as the best GPS system in the country. Cal pulled into the truck stop and after moving around several big rigs found the gasoline pumps for the cars and cussed at the three bucks a gallon price tag plus the one fifty UN tax the president agreed on. Cal thought, What a guy! Yes, sir, what a guy.
Cal pulled up and stopped. He looked around and started to cuss. “Blasted attendants are never here when you want them.”
Tork looked up. “Cal, this is a self-service pump island. If you want gas, you pump it. I’ll meet you inside. I need to call Di. I’ll grab a booth for us. Come on in when you’re finished.”
Tork moved swiftly to the restaurant and asked the hostess for a quiet booth.
“Hello.” It was Di’s mom on the line.
“Mrs. Richmond, this is Tork. Is Di home?”
“No, Tork. She went into Lafayette with Carol to pick up Carol’s car. I suspect they went out to eat or maybe to a movie. I expected her back by now, but you know those girls.”
“Yeah, I know. Tell her I’ll call her later tonight when we check into a motel and get settled. Okay?”
“Okay, Tork. I’ll tell her. By the way, she needs your new cell number.”
Tork gave her the number, and she said goodbye and hung up. He then ordered two large Cokes from the hostess and waited for Cal. A few minutes later, Cal came in sat down. “Well, were fueled and ready to roll. Let’s eat.”
Tork and Cal resumed their trek. Cal picked up the driving, and Tork tried to figure out where they stood. He thought to himself, The men hunting Cal could have been ahead of him all the way. Could be when I stepped in, it threw them a curve. They hadn’t expected anyone else to enter the game. Could be they had gotten instructions or something else? Well, I’ll be ready for them. Yes, I’ll be ready for them.
Tork drifted into restless sleep. Everything were jumbled up in his mind, inconsistencies mixed with facts, men with guns that fired big bang flags, almost a nightmare. Suddenly Cal reached over and shook Tork, waking him out of a sound sleep. “Uh…who? Who? Who…what’s happened? Oh yeah, where we at, Cal?”
Coming out of his sleep and realizing they had stopped, Tork came up in his seat and looked around. They were in a restaurant parking lot. Cal had been driving for hours and was tired, ready to eat, and rest again.
“Let’s go eat. I’m starved.” With that, Cal opened his door and got out. “It’s only four miles to the turn off, Tork. We’re almost there.”
After a snack and coffee, Tork laid out his plan. “The way I see it, we need a base of operation where we can come and go and have access to a telephone. You were on your way back from Vegas when you turned off right? Okay, then we go back toward the Nevada border and retrace your way back. You look for anything that’s familiar so we can find the right turn off, okay?”
After their rest and meal, the mission was once again moving forward.
Cal took the wheel so he could recall anything he had seen the previous night. At the state line, they turned around and headed back and started looking for the right turn off. It was difficult trying to find a familiar place you had only seen once before, when suddenly Cal let out a cry, “That’s it, Tork! That’s it! Coming up on the right, the turn off, that’s it. I know it is.”
*****
Emory reached over and hit the landing gear switch, and the whining of the plane’s hydraulic motor could be heard and the gears started to lower. Emory was on his approach to the field, and no lights had come on. He had come in low dropping down and flying under cover of the local airport’s radar. As his onboard radar searched ahead of him, he cut his two outboard engines and was taking it in on the two inboard ones. Thank God they had modified these birds years ago and added the other two engines. It made the bird stronger, faster, and quieter when dropping two engines off line. Suddenly the darkness lit up ahead of him. The dazzling approach lights and then the runway lights were on.
Emory had to touch down quickly before they put out the lights. Seconds later, his wheels were on the ground. He gently brought the nosewheel down into contact with the runway. He started to brake with his engine thrusters and then his brakes. The plane rapidly slowed, and no sooner had he slowed when they turned the runway lights off.
He was in the dark; nothing but his instrument lights illuminated his panel with an eerie glow. Emory reached up and started turning off unneeded systems. Just as he was about to bring the ship to a stop, a vehicle appeared before him. A sign lit up on the back of the unit. The words started moving across it. It was like one of those roadside signs that print up bargains in stores as you go by them. This one was saying, “Follow me. Leave your lights off. Maintain radio silence. We’ll have you under cover shortly.” The sign continued to repeat the message.
The vehicle was leading them through aprons and hardstands.
Suddenly the sign changed to, “Continue ahead slowly. You are entering a hangar. There will be a slight decline.” Within a minute, Emory could feel the plane descending an incline, and he could hear the engines pitches grow louder. He knew he was inside the hangar. After moving slowly, he heard a rumbling behind him. The vehicle ahead of him flashed stop on the board. He stopped the plane, and the rumbling noise stopped. The whole area then flooded with light.
They were safely in the underground hangar, and the doors were closed to stop any light leaking out to the outside world. They had arrived.
Emory went back into the cabin. The senator was getting ready to deplane. “Nice flight, Emory. Thanks.”
Michael piped in with, “Yeah, thanks. Nice and smooth.”
“You’re welcome, Senator. You too, Mike.”
Michael started to say something to Emory and then changed his mind. Probably planned to dress him down again and had second thoughts with the senator there.
Emory went over to Special Operations to set up for departure and have the plane refueled and serviced. He would need the plane’s refrigerator filled and in-flight rations put on board for the return trip.
Michael left everything to Emory knowing Emory would set everything up right.
Emory entered the operations room as a security personnel covered him. “ID please,” said the one in command.
Emory pulled out his card and gave it to him. “Thank you, sir,” Emory approached the counter. “I need all tanks full, rations replaced, and the fridges filled as soon as possible. We may be leaving soon.”
“Yes, sir,” he replied. “We have already started refueling. In-flight will be over when your tanks are full, and you’ll be ready for a turnaround within thirty minutes if you need it.”
Emory looked out into the hangar. He figured they were about sixty feet underground.
He could see the gradual slope of the ramp coming in and several other aircraft sharing the same hangar. It was amazing they had brought him in and parked him in the dark with the other aircraft so close. Two other birds were sharing the hangar, one other Falcon and a helicopter painted in commercial colors, both marked with the Freedom Earned logos, blue and white stripes, strictly company colors. There were sixteen of these hangars
