“Flaps going to twenty percent. It gets dirty quick, Jim. Don’t chop too much power.”
“Got you.” C “Wheels down and locked. Flaps at twenty percent. Jesus Christ, I said don’t chop the throttles’s “Whoops!” Whittaker said, advancing the throttles to increase his glide path.
“Now it’s too much,” Canidy said. “Work them yourself, goddamn it!”
Whittaker snapped. “You’re flying it; go around if you have to,” Canidy replied. “Oh shit,” Whittaker said, cut the throttles again, and flared out, too high, over the runway. They landed hard, bounced into the air, landed again, bounced again, and finally touched down, again hard; but this time they stayed on the ground.
“The next thing you do is lower the tail,” Canidy said dryly as Whittaker made a violent move to keep on the runway.
“Fuck you,” Whittaker said as he eased back on the stick to lower the tail. 11 Anacostia, Six-one-one on the ground at five past midnight-and at five and a half past midnight, and finally at six past midnight.”
“Fuck you, wise ass,” Whittaker said as he began to brake. There was laughter in the tower operator’s voice when he came back on the air.
“If you’re sure you’re finally down, Six-one-one, take taxiway three left to the transient parking area. Your ground transportation is waiting for you.”
“We have apparently cheated death once again, Anacostia. I came on the airways from Raleigh. Will you close me out with Washington control, please?” Canidy said. “Will do, Six-one-one,” the tower operator said, still laughing. “And will you arrange to have me fueled, please?”
“A fuel truck will meet you, Six-one-one.”
“What happens here?” Whittaker asked. The translation of that is, Canidy thought, Am I going to get to see Cynthia Chenowith?
“We’ll have to wait and see, Jimmy,” Canidy said. 4N@
As they taxied past base operations Canidy saw Chief Ellis standing inside the glass door. “That landing was a little rough, wasn’t it, Dick?” Fulmar asked when Canidy walked through the cabin to open the door. Canidy looked at him. He was mopping at his bathrobe with a paper towel. He had apparently been drinking a cup of coffee when Whittaker had made the landing. “I didn’t think it was all that bad, Eric,” Canidy said.
“So far as I know, that was Whittaker’s first landing in a twin-engine airplane.” He saw that Second Lieutenant Holds worth C. Martin III’s eyes grew very wide. Canidy went the rest of way down the aisle, opened the door, and jumped onto the ground. Ellis was there. And so was the gas truck and a crew of white hats. Ellis saluted, which he would not have done if no one had been there. “Captain Doug lass’s compliments, Major,” he said.
“And would the major come to the base ops building?” Canidy looked at his watch. It was twelve minutes past midnight. “I have passengers aboard, Chief,” he said as formally as Ellis.
“What about them?”
“They’re to remain aboard the aircraft, Sir,” Ellis said.
“I’m to see to that.”
“Be careful, Ellis,” Canidy said softly.
“One of them has a Thompson submachine gun and high hopes that he can shoot it at somebody.”
“Oh, Christ!” Ellis said, chuckling.
“What are a pair of old sailors like us doing in this fucked-up outfit?”
When Canidy walked into base ops, he was directed to an office on the second floor. Captain Doug lass and Stanley Fine were inside, sipping on coffee in heavy china mugs. “Everything go all right?”
“Young Martin has a submachine gun,” Canidy said, “that scares me a little. “When you get to Deal, take it away from him,” Doug lass said.
“Was all that priority in-flight advisory business necessary?”
Canidy asked.
“And the secret message ordering me here? Didn’t Miss Spyrnaster of 1942 get a little excited?”
“So far as you’re concerned, she does nothing right, does she?”
Captain Doug lass said coldly.
“But just to keep the record straight, she did what she did because I told her to. And I was really doing you a favor, or so I thought. If we hadn’t managed to divert you, you would have found yourself flying back here for Captain Fine from Deal tonight, and flying to North Carolina to get young Martin tomorrow.”