Shep smiled, bringing Tess inside the cramped office. “Got a favor to ask of you. Bill, this is Tess Hamilton, an executive from Rockwell.”
Bill, a balding man of fifty, rose and offered his hand “Ms. Hamilton. A pleasure.”
“Call me Tess,” she said, releasing his hand.
“Roger,” he teased, his broad face breaking into a genuine grin. He cocked one eyebrow at Shep. “What’s the favor?”
Shep gestured toward the door. “I want to take Tess up in the simulator. Would you take the panel so we can run a simulated test flight? She needs to get the feel of the bomber.”
Bill looked a bit surprised and then shrugged. “Sure, why not? But this will cost you, Major,” he warned, a gleam in his dark eyes.
Shep returned the grin. “Anything you want.”
Bill, who was a bit on the portly side, squeezed between the wall and his desk. He rolled up his white shirt-sleeves on the way out, moving quickly across the concrete floor of the hangar. “Okay, I want a ride in that bomber you’re going to fly.”
Shep laughed. “You and everybody else! I may not be able to promise that. We can negotiate my payment later.”
“Damn, what I’d give to fly in that baby. She’s a purty thing, isn’t she?”
Shep glanced down at Tess. “Most people think so,” he said, a glint in his eye.
Tess’s curiosity overcame her initial apprehension as they covered the distance between the office and a small control booth which sat across the floor. Shep pointed out a huge mechanical apparatus which sat on steel legs thirty feet above the hangar floor.
“This is our B-1 simulator, Tess. Bill is one of the people who sits in the control booth and feeds in the computerized cards which are then played into the circuitry of the simulated B-1 cabin. This is where we’ve been getting our training on how to use the equipment aboard the real bomber.”
“We’re going up there?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am. Figured a ‘flight’ in the B-1 would help dispel some of that fear you have.”
His argument made sense. Without another word Tess climbed aboard the platform which held the small control booth. Bill flipped a switch and slowly the entire ensemble rose upward toward the simulator, which was suspended on long steel legs. Shep kept his arm around Tess as they rose upward.
“We train in here to get the feel of the plane without ever leaving the ground. It lessens the potential of damaging the real bomber. The cockpit of this simulator is an exact replica of the B-1 we’ll be flying. The days of just strapping into a prototype and taking your chances are over. Nowadays, trainers and simulators help the test pilots to gather valuable experience before they ever take an aircraft up. We also work the kinks out of the different systems aboard the simulator so that changes can be made in the actual plane before it’s flown.” He smiled down at her, looking handsome in his Air Force uniform. The platform gave a small jerk and then halted.
“Okay, Shep, she’s all yours. What kind of card do you want?”
“Nothing fancy. No emergency procedures. I just want to give Tess an idea of takeoff, landing and flyability.”
“Roger. I got just the card. Get situated and give me a call when you’re ready.” He smiled over at Tess. “Enjoy the flight.”
Tess gave Bill a sickly smile, following Shep out on the narrow catwalk to the simulator. He opened the rear hatch door and stepped inside, helping her aboard.
It was the first time she had ever been in a fully constructed B-1 cockpit. The silence was awesome as she carefully made her way forward. “Stay there for a second,” he ordered, going to the front. Within moments, cabin lights appeared. He gave her an encouraging smile. “Come on, you take the right seat. You’ll be my copilot for this flight.”
Tess hesitantly settled into the seat. Before her was a panel of gauges and dials that would mystify anyone not acquainted with airplane instrumentation. Shep settled in, patiently helping her strap into the seat, bringing the nylon harness up and around each of her shoulders and then snapping it closed on the belt that crossed her lap. He pointed toward a lightweight microphone and headset.
“Just slip it over your right ear,” he instructed, flipping on several sets of switches. The entire instrument panel lit up with a greenish hue. Shep strapped in, adjusting his mike. Giving her a quick smile, he switched on the radio frequency to the control room.
“Wiry nine-six to Control. How do you read?”
Tess listened as Shep and Bill conversed. Her initial fear eroded as she watched Shep deftly go through a series of checks with the control room. It struck her that Shep was right at home in the futuristic cockpit, totally at ease.
She watched as more dials and gauges jumped to life before her. Between her front legs rested the control stick. Unlike other bombers, which had a yoke fashioned into what looked like half of a car’s steering wheel, the B-1 had a stick like fighter aircraft possessed. There was a screen approximately six inches square in front of each pilot’s position. The screen, using television and infrared detection, could “see” far out beyond the cockpit area. It would show the height and outline of the terrain miles ahead of the actual position to the B-1. Furthermore, it would show air speed and elevation of the aircraft itself. She watched as Shep’s right hand settled over the four throttles between the seats. He eased them forward a few inches, intently watching the fuel gauges and the other instruments which would tell him if each engine was functioning properly during the test before the actual “takeoff.”
The cockpit was a living being now. The waving, pulsating needles seemed to gauge the life of the plane. Tess became involved in watching them, forgetting her fear. Shep winked at her.
“Ready for takeoff?” he asked, taking a grip on the control stick.
She smiled hesitantly, caught up in the excitement. “Roger.”
“Okay, place your right hand on the stick,” he instructed.
Tess gave him a horrified look.
“Go on,” he urged, grinning. “You won’t make us crash. After all, we’re suspended on steel supports. We aren’t going anywhere.”
She gave him a distrustful look, edging her hand on to the stick. Slowly, she wrapped her clammy fingers around the column.
“Good,” he praised. “Okay, from here on out, this will be the exact sequence we’ll be following when we fly the B-1 for the first time. You’ll feel the actual movement, hear the sounds and experience the takeoff.” He pointed out the window of the cockpit. “And if you look out there, you’ll see what looks like a huge movie screen depicting the main runway at Palmdale.”
He had no sooner spoken than a full color picture completely filled the window area of the simulator. Tess gasped, overwhelmed by the ingenuity of the engineers.
“Listen closely and keep your hand on the stick,” he ordered. Moving the mike closer, he called in. “Wiry nine-six to Control, ready for takeoff.”
“Roger, Wiry nine-six,” Bill came back. “Visibility unlimited, winds five knots north-northwest. You are cleared for takeoff.”
A strange sensation enveloped Tess in the next few seconds. She felt the vibration, heard the rumble of the four engines as she watched Shep slowly move all throttles forward to their assigned position. Her mouth grew dry as they seemed to be rolling forward, gathering speed, the dry white desert sand along the runway slipping by in a blur. The engine noise increased, the cockpit vibrated even more and the gauges shot upward, indicating the manifold pressure on the engines. Shep called out several distances and Bill answered.
“Rotating now,” Shep reported, pulling back on the stick.
Suddenly, they were airborne! Tess saw Shep gently pulling back on the stick, the bomber’s nose thrusting skyward, leaving the runway far below them in a matter of seconds. She stared over at Shep, realizing the intensity of his concentration upon a myriad of tasks that demanded his attention. No longer was he an ordinary man. Now he was a pilot flying, listening to his plane, analyzing gauge readings, talking
to the control tower. Was this how he had looked during that emergency in the T-38? The view screen flashed on and Tess watched in amazement as the terrain indicator showed them at fifteen hundred feet and at an airspeed of two hundred knots.
Shep pressed a button on the stick to permit cabin communication with her. “We’ll do a couple of bump and go’s in the landing pattern. I’ll be taking a ninety-degree turn to the left here in a moment, so don’t get frightened when you feel the shift,” he warned.
Within seconds he moved the stick to the left after pressing the left rudder with his foot. Instantly the B-1 simulator responded and Tess felt the entire cabin tilt to the left. Her fingers tightened around her stick until Shep leveled the bomber back out onto an even keel. He looked over at her, smiling.
“See? Not so bad, right?”
She gave a nod of her head. “This is amazing,” she confided. The entire experience left her amazed. After “landing” the B-1 simulator, Shep unstrapped and leaned back, smiling. “Well, you look a little more relaxed now. What did you think?”
Tess gave a small laugh, shaking her head as she unsnapped the complicated harness. “It was an incredible experience!”
He pursed his lips, his eyes gazing at the panel. “We’ve been able to simulate all calculated emergencies that might develop with the bomber during flight, Tess. I’ve spent hundreds of hours in this simulator just like everyone else. Our reflexes are so well-developed that we just don’t worry about something going wrong on the first flight of the bomber.” His eyes narrowed on her. “Can you see why I’m not worried about it? Training takes the bugs out of our reflexes. All of us have complete confidence in our knowledge of the aircraft. Even you look relieved by this half-hour flight.”
She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. Her blue eyes grew warm with love as she looked at him. “You’re right.” she answered softly, “a little education has helped take some of my fear away.”
“Are you going to let that worry run your life, then?” he asked.
She gave a slight shrug. “I’ll always worry about you testing planes, Shep. This has helped, though.”
He rose, stretching his lean frame. “I figured it would. Come on, I think it’s time we drove you back to L.A. Did you drive up with Dan or by yourself?”
Tess stood. “No, I drove up with Dan.”
“Good, I’ll have the pleasure of driving you back, then.”
After thanking Bill for his part in the simulation, they ambled out of the hangar. The stars hung large and bright overhead. Shep put his arm around Tess’s shoulder, drawing her near. He leaned down, his breath warm against her face. “I love you, lady,” he whispered.
Tess gave him a hug, resting her head on his shoulder. “You are something else, Major Ramsey,” she murmured. “And I’m so glad you love me.”
He laughed softly, opening the car door. “Tell me that when you see me climbing aboard the B-1 for that first test flight.”
She met his laughter-filled eyes gravely. “I’ve got three months to put my fear of loss in perspective before that flight,” she answered. “And I’ll do it. With your help.”
Shep leaned over, kissing her lips tenderly. “Maybe a few more flights in the simulator will help.” And then he grimaced. “My only worry is Barton and the damn bearings his company is manufacturing.”
“Don’t worry,” she answered grimly, “I’m watching the progress on that like a hawk.”
Chapter 16
DECEMBER 21, 1974
“WELL, THAT SHOULD DO IT,” CHARLIE STARLING FROM Rockwell concluded. His bloodshot gaze traveled around the long rectangular table. The test pilots in their one-piece flight suits stood out from the design and aeronautical engineers who were present. Other crucial people from various contractors and subcontractors stared blankly, saying nothing. The silence was almost explosive as Charlie closed the B-1 flight manual of operation on the lectern in front of him. They had spent the better part of the morning at Palmdale going over the last-minute details before the first scheduled flight of the B-1 on the twenty-second of December.
Charlie’s gaze settled back on the pilots. “I’ll see you men at 0430 tomorrow morning here at Ops. We’ll see what the meteorologist is saying about those winds.” He grimaced. “Hope like hell they subside. If they get above twenty knots, we’ll scrub the mission and wait a day.”
Shep groaned to himself. He closed his small notebook, unzipped the right thigh pocket of his flight suit and slid it into the opening. The last thirty days of his life had suddenly been compressed, it seemed, into seven days. His mouth thinned as he thought about the Christmas gift he still hadn’t picked up for Tess. As a matter of fact he hadn’t done any Christmas shopping. The first flight of the B-1 was scheduled for tomorrow, but as Shep studied the wind flow charts from the meteorology office, his instincts told him it would be postponed. Releasing a sigh, he stood up as the mixed assemblage of crew chiefs, engineers, and military people rose.
His excitement over finally getting to fly the B-1 had been increasing for the past month. Where had time gone? It seemed that as he and Tess had surmounted the obstacles of the past year, his life had gone into overdrive. Tom Cunningham fell into step with him as they went down the long hall.
“Well, buddy, you ready?”
“You’d better believe it.”
“When’s Tess coming up? She won’t miss this, will she?”
Shep managed a wry grin, pulling the flight cap from his pocket and settling it on his head. They left Ops, walking out into the windy, cold desert day. “Yeah, she’ll be up later this afternoon. Apparently she’s having another go-around with one of the subs who is manufacturing some pretty shoddy bearings for the bomber.”
Tom glanced at him. “Barton, by any chance?”
“How’d you guess? Come on, I’ll buy you lunch over at the O club at Edwards.”
After a long lunch, they remained sitting over their coffee. Tom bluntly broke the pleasant silence.
“Is Tess still afraid you’re going to crash and burn?”
Shep wrinkled his brow. “I’ve put a lot of her fears to rest by taking her up in the simulator on three different occasions. The last time I had Bill produce an in-flight emergency so that she could see how we deal with problems.”
“And?”
He pursed his lips. “I think it took away some of the dramatics for her.”
“What kind of an emergency did Bill duplicate for you?”
“The one where the port bomb-bay door is torn off during flight.”
Tom grinned. “That’s a pretty hairy one. Did she faint?”
“No. Tess stuck in there like a trooper. I was proud of her. She’s coming to grips with her emotions, Tom. I love her even more for the fact that she’s trying to overcome the fear.”
Tom’s brown eyes twinkled. “It’s called maturing, my boy. And she has come a long way in the past year. When I first saw her that night at the party, she looked more like a lost little girl than a woman.”
Shep recalled that night, the feelings that had coursed through him, and the need that had burned inside of him like a bright flame. “Yes,” he murmured, “she’s one incredible woman now.”
“And you say she’s going to tangle with Barton today? That ought to be a real test of her composure.” He grinned. “Glad it’s her and not me. I’d punch the guy out like you did.”
“Believe me,” Shep answered fervently, “it was a pleasure.”
“Easy, son,” Tom drawled in a teasing tone. “The pilots can’t go around beating up subs.”
Shep shrugged, finishing off his cup of coffee. “When I talked to Tess yesterday, she didn’t say why she was calling Barton in. I know she’s been following the lab testing reports on his bearings, but I don’t know what will happen.”
Tom rose, smiling. “That lady has moxie. And quit looking so worried. She’ll handle Barton. Just like she handles you.”
Shep laughed, pulling out money to pay for lunch. “The
lady has a way with me,” he agreed, a feeling of warmth surging through his chest. He had tried to curb his excitement at seeing her again. Over the last three months their relationship had cemented beautifully. The last barrier between them was her fear of his dying in a plane crash. Shep loved her for being brave and trying to come to grips with her fear.
As he paid the cashier, his brow drew into a frown. He was worried for her at this moment. She was supposed to meet with Barton shortly after lunch. He wanted to be there to protect her, but another part knew she could handle it. Still, it was going to be the first time she had actually come face-to-face with Barton since his gossip had ruined her life for over a year.
*
Tess swallowed against the constriction in her throat. She waited nervously as the hands of the clock slowly ticked toward one thirty. Fingering the neat pile of lab reports at her left hand, she shored up her determination. Dan had already approved of her plan. All that was needed was to implement it. How many sleepless nights had she spent thinking about Barton? Pushing a stray strand of hair off her shoulder she looked up, hearing Barton’s voice in the outer office. Grimly Tess settled into the chair a little more deeply, awaiting the confrontation. It had been a long time in coming.
Derek Barton stepped through the door. His dark pin-striped suit only emphasized the man’s weasellike black eyes and ebony hair. There seemed to be a perpetual snarl on his lips. Or was it the fact that one corner of his almost lipless mouth turned upward, giving him that appearance? Tess marshaled her thoughts, her objectives. A cool, businesslike smile came to her lips.
“Sit down, Mr. Barton,” she invited, motioning him toward the leather chair near her desk.
Derek smiled back. It was a meaningless smile. “Thank you, Ms. Hamilton. Or do you still go by Mrs.?” he inquired in a tone laced with sarcasm.
Tess stood up, moving around the desk and across the room to shut the office door. She didn’t want anyone else to hear what would be said. Hesitating briefly, after she had insured their privacy, she walked back and sat down at her desk. The fear she had felt before was rapidly being replaced by a growing sense of anger. A sense of great calm came over her, and she folded her hands in front of her.
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