Flying Too Close to the Sun by George Jehn (novels for beginners .txt) 📕

and recommended the fruitti di mare seafood pasta, which sounded good to all of them. Erik asked, “Will anyone will recall seeing us? Lots of people stared when we entered.”

Juni scratched the scalp under what looked like greasy hair, while shaking his head. “Memories are good here, but also very short. Let’s get to why we’re here. I flew to Boston and spent a few hours reconnoitering the airfield and the town you described across the bay from Logan. It’s called East Boston, a rundown New England burg seemingly straight out of a time warp that unlike me wasn’t able to adjust to this changing world,” Juni managed a small smile. “A bunch of Hispanics live there, but also still quite a few paisans. I pretended to be just another guinea—and only I can use that term here, like a black person using the n-word in Harlem—thinking of moving there. If I were, I would be welcomed with open arms. Here’s a tide chart I picked up at a local tackle store.” Juni placed it on the table. The chart disappeared and the conversation changed to food when the smiling waitress brought plates overflowing with delicious linguini loaded with clams, mussels, calamari and pieces of tender sea bass, all covered with a delicate livornese sauce. Between delectable bites, Juni stated he felt barring a merger with a larger airline Shuttle Air’s long-term survival appeared uncertain. Both pilots simply looked at each other grimly. “But let’s get back to the job at hand. What do the money sacks and locks look like?”

“They’re large, dark green satchels with padlocks on top,” Christina replied, “like the duffel bags I’ve seen in Army/Navy stores.”

“Meaning I can get nearly identical fakes?”

“Probably.”

“That’s important, ‘cause if the bags aren’t the same, they’ll immediately know something’s wrong when the cargo hold is opened. Replacing them with lookalikes will increase the odds in our favor. If they’re transported before anyone knows somethin’s up it will give us more time and the suspect list will be much longer. We have to think like the cops and try to stay one step ahead.”

Cops? Robbery? All Erik wanted was to be an airline pilot. Juni’s voice jolted him back to the present.

“What about the locks?” Juni asked, while jotting things on a napkin.

“They looked like everyday brass locks to me.”

“Are they long or short? Are they the key or combination kind?”

“They’re short and I didn’t see any numbers.”

“I’ll buy four. I might even have two key locks at home from college, so old chances are they’re untraceable.”

The waitress again interrupted, this time bringing three cappuccinos courtesy of the house. After thanking her Juni asked, “What else?”

“What about transportation?” Christina said with a toothy smile. “How will you get to Boston and bring our money back?”

“My wife’s Buick. I had it tuned up and the oil changed and I’ll get my hands on some Massachusetts plates.” Juni continued as they sipped their cappuccino. “The East Boston Holiday Inn is where I’ll stay under an assumed name. Here’s the number,” he said, handing Erik and Christina tiny slips of torn paper with the telephone number in pencil. “Once we’re done, get rid of those. I’ll get a fake ID and let you know the name I’m using. My story will be the same; I’m checking out the area in anticipation of moving there. You got any questions?”

Christina said, “I guess you’re in?”

“You guessed right.”

After a sigh of relief Christina took some pages copied from her 727 flight manual out of her handbag describing the forward cargo compartment door and its operation. She handed them to Juni, pointing out one unique feature; because the aircraft was pressurized, to prevent it from blowing off, the counterbalanced, smooth ball-bearing-hinged door opened inward. “Don’t make any noise ‘cause the guard is seated directly above it,” she cautioned him.

“That might present a problem because I’ll probably have to slam it closed.”

“You won’t. Just twist the handle. They keep it well lubed.”

Erik said in half-jest, “Maybe you can leave Sunday and we can be done with this by Monday?”

Juni held up his hand like a stop sign. “Sunday? Monday? I doubt it. I can’t rush ‘cause I gotta be thinking four or five steps ahead. Plus, more groundwork is needed. I gotta get materials, drive to Boston and find out where the cops are stationed, if they patrol and how busy the marina is after dark. That’ll take time. I might be able to accomplish everything in a few days, but don’t count on it ‘cause if I make a mistake it’s not like erasing chalk off a blackboard.”

Christina changed the subject to something nagging at her like an high-strung spouse. “What about Woody? Do we bring him in?” Turning to Juni, she added, “He’s the copilot.”

“Woody! Is this guy named after a dick?”

Christina giggled. “I wondered about that too. But he said it was from getting hit on the head a lot.”

“What are your thoughts.” a suddenly serious Juni said.

“After speaking with him and mulling it over, I believe we’d be better off without him. I can keep his attention diverted by telling him to handle the radio or something similar.”

“Will he do as he’s told?”

“Definitely” she said, now looking at Erik. Christina sipped her cappuccino and added, “After our engine problem I’m certain he’ll go out of his way to please.”

“Are you sure?” Juni asked.

“Yeah. We had an engine quit working a while back and Woody didn’t do anything when we really needed him. Plus, I don’t trust him. There’s something else I can’t put my finger on. Call it a woman’s intuition or whatever, but I did some subtle probing at dinner one night and didn’t like his answers. Hell, he might even go to the cops to endear himself with management and we’d have no way of knowing. Plus, including him means less for us.”

“I agree,” Juni added, gently slapping his palm on the tablecloth. “Is it unanimous, Erik? It’s just the three of us?”

Erik concurred.

As