by Andrew Watts
Renee said, “Her check-in is at three p.m. tomorrow.” Renee peered at the screen. “Hmm. Well, now, that’s quite interesting. Guess where the hotel is?”
“Where?”
“Fond du Lac, Wisconsin. Which, I should point out, is suspiciously close to Oshkosh.”
The table went silent for a moment.
“Really? Where Senator Becker is headed?”
Trent’s face contorted into a confused expression. “Pretty suspicious that the only two names we know of on the kill list are both headed towards the same place. Why do you suppose that is?”
Max stood up and began picking up his food and stuffing it into the bag. “We’ll have to ask her when we get there. Come on, we can eat in the car.”
The others stood and began doing the same. Renee said, “And you don’t want to just call up Wilkes and have him take care of it? Didn’t he say he was going to bring a team to Oshkosh too?”
“Yeah, but the last two times Wilkes knew where we were, so did Ian Williams. How about this time, we wait to tell him until after we pick her up?”
Trent shrugged. “Works for me, man. I like air shows, and I like guns. This gives me a unique opportunity to combine the two.”
An uneasy feeling overcame Max as he thought more about the situation. “If Jennifer Upton is on the kill list, then we could be facing cartel or ISI hit teams when we try to grab her.”
“If she shows up,” Trent said. “It’s possible she made this reservation but was then taken or killed by Williams’s men, right?”
Renee was looking at her computer. “Well, according to the monitoring program I now have running on her accounts, she just checked her email from her phone an hour ago. Her phone accessed cell towers in Chicago, but now it’s powered off. It’s possible that someone else is doing this. But my guess is that it’s still her.”
“Good. Please keep monitoring her electronic communications. Let us know if she tries to contact anyone or changes her plans. I think we should assume that our first opportunity to take her is when she arrives to check in at her hotel.”
“Logical,” said Renee. Renee closed her laptop, stuffing it into her handbag, and they began walking back towards the car.
Max said, “If Williams is going to send a hit team to get Upton, we need to get to her first.”
Max was in the flight planning room at the FBO. It was packed. Filled with more smiling recreational aviators on a break from their cross-country flights up to Wisconsin. He recognized the two King boys, who looked like they were packing up.
“You guys heading back out to your plane?”
“Yes, Mr. Fend.”
“Ah, so you figured out my name, huh?”
“Our dad did, yes, sir.”
“Say, you guys mentioned it took you a long time to plan your flight to Oshkosh. I’ve never flown in there myself, but I was thinking about doing it today. Could you give me the two-minute version of what I need to do?”
The boys looked at each other, wide-eyed. “Uh. Mr. Fend, respectfully, it’s really complicated…”
“Actually, why don’t you just let me see your flight plan for a second? I’ll go make a photocopy.”
One of them handed a copy to Max. “You can keep it. I have three copies.”
“You’re a great American, my friend.”
“But, Mr. Fend, if you’re really going to do this, you’ll need to read the NOTAMs.”
Max shrugged. “No problem.” The Notice to Airmen was the advisory that alerted pilots about hazards or changes along their route of flight, including the airports. It was usually a quick read, only a few lines.
“You can take my spare copy of that, too.” He handed Max what looked like a small book.
Max raised his eyebrows. “Okay. Great. Thanks…”
Renee and Trent were in the lobby. Renee had caught Max’s eye and was giving him a concerned look, nodding towards the TV fixed to the wall.
The national news had interrupted the daytime TV programming and was showing footage of Washington, D.C., outside the Capitol Building.
US SENATOR RECEIVING DEATH THREATS AFTER AIDE KILLED
Max walked over to Renee. “What is it?”
“They’re talking about Senator Becker. A news story just broke that he’s been getting death threats because of an anti-opioid bill he’s sponsoring.”
“Death threats from who?”
“They say there are international investors connected to organized crime who are trying to stop his vote.”
“Organized crime? What’s that supposed to mean? The cartels?”
“I don’t know. The story’s only just broken. But if it was the cartels, why would they care about a law passing?”
The newscaster interrupted their conversation.
“Senator Becker has put out a statement saying that he won’t be deterred by brutish thugs who want to scare America into submission. He still intends to be in public this week, while watching his daughter perform at the Oshkosh Air Show in his home state of Wisconsin.”
Max and Renee looked at each other. Max said, “Well, if there was any doubt as to where they could find him, that’s gone now.”
Chapter 18
Trent sat in the backseat of the Cirrus, Renee and Max in front. Max had filed the exact same flight plan as the King family. In a way, it was kind of like copying someone’s homework. But since he wasn’t getting graded, and they all had the same destination, he didn’t think it was an ethical dilemma.
They were airborne about thirty minutes after Max had filed their flight plan. After they cleared Cincinnati airspace, the three of them conversed over the internal communication headsets. Max asked Renee if she wanted to do some of the flying, and she said yes.
“You won’t stall us this time?” he joked.
“I’ll do my best.”
Trent said, “You guys make a pretty cute couple.”
“Thank you.” Renee looked at Max and pinched his cheek.
Max said, “It’s not all roses. She can be very tough on me. We have major disagreements on how we see some things.”
Trent looked skeptical. “Like what?”
Max said, “Trent, there are two types of people in this world. Those who like Tim Tebow, and those who don’t.”
Renee turned her head. “I didn’t say that I don’t like him. He just didn’t have an NFL-caliber arm, that’s all.”
“You take that back. He’s flawless in every way.”
Trent said, “Renee, you like football?”
Max smiled. “Uh-oh. Here we go.”
She turned to Trent, pulling her sunglasses down and narrowing her eyes. “And why wouldn’t I like football? Because I’m a girl?”
Trent tapped Max on the shoulder. “I see what you mean.”
The flight was several hours long, but it provided some much-needed downtime for the group.
“There’s Chicago,” Renee said into the mike. They were flying north along the shores of Lake Michigan, the skyline at their eleven o’clock. Max looked down at his chart display and dialed up the local air traffic control frequency, checking in and requesting visual flight following as he traveled to the north. He could hear dozens of other aircraft speaking to the controller every few seconds. It was busy airspace here all the time.
Trent keyed his mike from the backseat. “Pretty cool.” Renee was all smiles as well. Max was glad.
“Maybe on the way back, we can stop there and hit up Lou Malnati’s.”
“Now you’re talking.”
After getting clear of Chicago airspace, Max banked the aircraft left, ensuring that they would take Kenosha and Milwaukee off their right side as they continued north. He had pre-dialed in a set of checkpoints and was scanning his GPS to ensure that they were on course.
“Okay, this is the tricky part.” Max handed Renee the white booklet he had stapled together. A picture on the front cover showed a small airplane in a shallow climb, trailing aerobatic smoke.
�
��What’s this?” Renee asked.
“That’s the NOTAM. The Notice to Airmen. I haven’t had a chance to read it all yet, but I convinced one of those teenage boys to lend me their extra copy.”
Renee said, “NOTAM? But you showed me those the other day when we were flying in Virginia. I thought NOTAMs were only a few words long.”
“Normally they are.”
She turned the pages of the booklet. “This is almost thirty pages!”
“Yeah. Well, ten thousand aircraft are all arriving at the same time. So, they probably don’t want us to run into each other. Now, turn to page…” Max tried to keep his altitude while he flipped to near the end of the booklet, where he had placed a bright orange sticky note. “There. Please read that part the kid highlighted. I’m not sure what it says, but those kids seemed sharp, so we should probably read the highlights.”
Renee moved her forefinger over the words as she read. “Ensure lights are on and set transponder to standby.”
Max flipped a switch and scanned his instruments. “Check.”
Renee kept reading the procedures, her eyes growing wider as she read. She looked over at Max. “It says find an aircraft of similar speed and type and follow them.”
“Okay.”
“Is that a joke? Ten thousand aircraft are flying here at the same time, and they tell you to find someone at the same speed as you and follow them?”
Max scanned outside for other aircraft. “Hmm. Well, maybe we should drop a procedural improvement into the Oshkosh suggestion box when we land. But for now, keep reading…”
Max spotted a Cessna out the window. “Traffic, three o’clock, level, no factor. He’s going slower, so we’ll overtake him.”
More and more aircraft appeared outside, some just little white specks in the distance, others close in, and much larger. Some of the aircraft were above their altitude, some below. One little orange-and-white helicopter chugged along to their east.
They found a white Cessna at about their same altitude, and Max adjusted his speed so they wouldn’t overtake it. He then fell in a loose trail position, partly making sure he was following the map in the booklet and partly making sure he followed the plane ahead of him.
The ground below was carved into an endless expanse of brown and green fields. Roads and houses, trees and barns. Grain silos and cow pastures, and a highway filled with cars headed towards the air show. Another highway filled with planes above it, doing the same. Soon Lake Winnebago appeared, shimmering in the afternoon sun off to the east.
Renee said, “Okay, we’re coming up on the part where we have to talk.”
“I’ve always been a good talker.”
“I feel like you aren’t taking this as seriously as you should be.”
Trent said, “Are couples allowed to fly and navigate together? Should I be worried here?”
A moment later, they arrived at the main entry checkpoint, and the Oshkosh aircraft controller called out Max’s aircraft. The man spoke incredibly fast. He was probably taking a break from his normal job, which Max assumed must have been as an auctioneer.
“Blue-and-white-Cirrus-at-half-mile-south-of-Fisk, rock-your-wings.”
Renee said, “What the hell did he just say?”
Max moved his yoke to the right and left in rapid succession, making the aircraft roll back and forth.
“Half-mile-south-of-Fisk, blue-and-white-Cirrus, good-rock-sir, continue-northeast-bound-along-the-railroad-tracks-for-a-right-downwind-runway-two-seven, maintain-one-thousand-eight-hundred-until-turning-your-downwind, monitor-tower-one-one-eight-point-five…welcome-to-Oshkosh.”
Renee looked at Max. “He was talking so fast! Merde. What did he say? He wants us to follow railroad tracks?”
Max shushed her. “Honey, can you be quiet for a moment? I need to concentrate.” The aircraft ahead of them was turning sharply. Max felt like each plane was on an infinite conveyer belt that couldn’t stop. Everyone had to perform their maneuvers at precisely the right moment. Otherwise, the entire line would get fouled up, which ended badly with airborne conveyer belts.
Max could see the line of planes landing in front of them, and the giant airport itself. Enormous green fields filled with cars, pup tents, Winnebagos, and, of course, planes. Rows and rows of aircraft of all colors, shapes and sizes.
“Oh my God,” Renee said. “There are so many…”
Max had switched up the radio frequency to tower. After finishing his turn, he heard the tower controller say, “Clear to land.” A beautiful phrase.
The white pavement of the runway grew larger in the windscreen as they descended on their approach. The rows of aircraft already on the ground zoomed by as their altitude decreased, and the world seemed to move faster and faster.
Then, with a squeak, the wheels touched down, and Max began pumping the brakes, decelerating as fast as he could. Max turned off at the appropriate taxiway, and a guy wearing an orange vest and holding orange batons directed him to follow the line of planes inching along ahead of him.
Max exhaled.
“Nice work. I knew you could do it.” Renee patted him on the shoulder. She wore a wide smile, looking pretty in her aviator sunglasses, her dark hair held back by the aircraft headset.
Taxiing the aircraft seemed to take forever. They crept at a snail’s pace, past the waving crowds of people in lawn chairs, sitting in the shade under the wings of their Cessnas, past the rows of old warbirds, and past the forest of covered pavilions where lecturers were speaking about aviation-related subjects.
Finally they arrived at their parking spot on the lawn, and Max shut down the Cirrus.
Max said, “Welcome to our new home.”
Trent said, “I hope we like our neighbors. They got us packed in like the parking lot of a pumpkin patch.”
Max shut down the engine, and they opened the doors. It was hot—a good eighty-five degrees—but nothing compared to the Tex-Mex heat they’d been exposed to last week. The aircraft behind them had just parked, and its prop was winding down. Pup tents were scattered among the aircraft in front of them. The field behind them was clear of aircraft for the moment, but it would be filled up soon.
“So where to first?” asked Renee.
Max said, “We probably need tents, a few supplies, and a rental vehicle. Then I say we spend a few hours getting the lay of the land here. Find out where Becker is going to be, and then work out our plan to bring in Jennifer Upton without consequence.”
“How are we going to find the senator? This place is huge. You want to call Wilkes, let him know we’re here?”
“Not yet. They have VIP tents set up. My father used to hang out in them. We can start there.” Max gave Renee a funny look. “And I might know someone here who can get us to meet with the senator.”
“Who?”
“His daughter.”
“How do you know his daughter again?” asked Renee, her voice suspicious.
“Well, my father and Senator Becker knew each other. You know that. And there was a brief period where…”
“Wait, did you date his daughter?”
Max went red. “I mean…technically…uh…”
Trent saw Max’s face and said, “Hey, man, you need a shovel?”
“What for?”
“’Cause I think you’re gonna need to dig yourself out of a hole pretty soon.”
Chapter 19
The vast majority of attendees at the Oshkosh Air Show either camped out on the airport’s vast grassy plains or slept in a Winnebago or trailer. Max, having been to Oshkosh when he was younger, knew that there would be little chance of getting a hotel room now that the air show had commenced. This was why he had dispatched Trent to secure a rental car, tents, and camping supplies.
Renee and Max walked along rows of aircraft to get to the central hub of the air show. Max had fond memories of this place from when he was younger. His father made it a point to show up almost every year. As the figurehead of Fend Aerospace, Charles Fend was
a fixture of the event. Sort of like Arnold Palmer taking the first tee shot at the Masters.
Fend Aerospace was also one of the biggest sponsors of the show, and they often displayed their latest and greatest aircraft in the central area, renting giant tents and schmoozing with potential buyers. The air show was a place for aviation fans and history buffs to tour, but it was also a place for aviation businesses to wheel and deal. It wasn’t quite the Paris Air Show, where the focus was more on the business side of things. But there was still a lot of that.
“It’s hot.” Max wiped sweat from his brow.
“Maybe we can stop and get something to drink?”
Max and Renee arrived at the main static display area in the center of the air show. There were a variety of giant jumbo jets, military fighters, and old warbirds set up for viewing in the central plaza. A double-decker commercial aircraft, an Airbus A380, dominated this year’s static display. An Air Force AC-130 gunship was also a big crowd-pleaser.
“There’s a DC-3 over there,” said Max. He pointed to another. “Oh, look. Check out the paint job on that B-17. Impressive.”
Renee smiled at him. “You love this stuff, don’t you?”
“Doesn’t everyone?”
“It would probably be more enjoyable if I wasn’t worried about people trying to kill us.”
He placed his hand on the small of her back. “You alright?”
“You don’t need to keep asking me that. I’m fine. Just eager to meet this old girlfriend of yours.”
Max took solace in the fact that if Renee was focused on the whole girlfriend-jealousy thing, it was probably a positive signal as to her current mental health. However, it was also a negative sign for Max’s.
“So…the weather…pretty hot out, huh?”
Renee smirked at his obvious attempt to change the subject. “Yes. I need to pick up some sunblock or I’ll turn into a lobster.”
They walked into an air-conditioned minimart and Renee purchased some sunblock. Both of them threw on gobs of it while taking refuge under the shade of the overhang outside. Next, they walked over to another vendor’s tent and ordered two giant lemonades, extra ice. Max handed one to a grateful Renee, and they continued along.
