Turbulence (Stone Barrington #46)(53)
He worked his way through the airplane’s specifications and limitations, then started on the systems. After lunch, he continued. He reckoned he could finish ground school in three days, if he stuck to it. Since he didn’t have class members to slow him down with questions, he could move faster. Anna brought him a sandwich for lunch, and he kept at it.
* * *
—
THE BACCHETTIS WERE BACK in time for cocktails, and so was Lance.
“Lance,” Stone said. “Do you think I could go out and do a little flying tomorrow? I’m working on getting type-rated in the Latitude.”
Lance thought about it. “I think that will be all right, since you’re not flying your own airplane. I’ll have the neighborhood checked out in the morning, and a couple of my people will drive you to the airport and to your hangar.”
“Sounds good. Have you heard anything about whether Owaki is in the country?”
Lance looked sharply at Kelly, who ignored him, then at Stone. “Why do you ask?”
“He seems to spend a lot of time here, and he has his passport back.”
“Mr. Owaki will have a very difficult time entering the United States, without my knowing about it.”
Stone nodded and changed the subject.
* * *
—
STONE GRILLED STEAKS OUTDOORS, while Kelly baked potatoes and cooked haricots verts. Stone picked a good Napa cabernet, and they sat down to dinner as it got dark.
Lance answered a phone call a little later and stepped away from the table to talk. He came back and sat down. “Stone, have you given any further thought to your conspiracy theory?”
“Yes, I have.”
“Have you come up with any ideas about what may be going on?”
“I’m afraid I’m baffled.”
“My people at Langley have been running computer scenarios on the subject all day.”
“And what have they come up with?”
“It’s too soon to say,” Lance replied.
Stone figured that meant they didn’t have a clue, either. “The only thing that’s occurred to me is the possible use of Kensington House as a clandestine meeting place.”
“Tell me why you think that?”
“The accommodations, the airfield, its out-of-the-way location, and the lack of Wi-Fi and cell phone service, I suppose.”
“That makes sense, I suppose, but Owaki is not in England at the moment.”
“No?”
“No. His G-650 crossed the Canadian border and landed just inside the United States at Presque Isle, Maine, an airport of entry, half an hour ago.”
42
A MAN AND A WOMAN in a Navy SUV dropped Stone at the door to his hangar at Key West International, where Jenny Hanks was waiting for him. They kept the hangar door nearly closed while they spent an hour with the checklist, doing a very thorough preflight check; then they plugged in a power supply and spent another hour with the avionics, doing every task that might arise in a real flight: loading flight plans, arrival procedures, instrument approaches, and vertical navigation.
All that done, they called for the power supply to be disconnected and for a tow out to the ramp, where they ran through starting procedures and started both engines, then they requested permission to taxi for a VFR takeoff. Stone found the taxiing turns a little odd at first, since the Latitude had twenty feet more wingspan than his CJ3-Plus, but he got the hang of it quickly.
Soon they were rolling down the runway for takeoff, and Stone lifted the airplane gently off the ground, got the gear and flaps up and turned left to 360 degrees, standard procedure for avoiding the naval airspace. He turned on the autopilot and liked setting the auto-throttles and not having to worry about his airspeed.
They flew north a few miles to a practice area that kept them clear of both arriving and departing traffic, then did some air-work—steep turns in both directions without loss of airspeed or altitude, then takeoff, landing, and accelerated stalls.
“You’re doing very well,” Jenny said, “very precise.”
They spent two hours in the practice area, then began flying instrument approaches at various South Florida airports. Finally, they headed back to Key West.
“You know,” she said, “if you ever get tired of practicing law, I can get you a job as a charter pilot.”
Stone laughed.
“I’m not kidding,” she said. “I don’t know if you noticed, but today I took you through the entire list of procedures for a checkride with an FAA examiner, and you nailed every single one of them. If I were a licensed examiner, you’d have a new type rating right now.”
“That’s comforting to know,” Stone said. “I wish this were a single-pilot airplane, so I wouldn’t have to hire a pilot every time I fly it.”
“Peg or I are always available, and if we’re not, I’ll find you somebody.”
They were back at Key West by four PM, and they sat in the airplane while the lineman backed them into the hangar and closed the door. Lance’s two agents pulled the car up to the hangar door.
“If you’re free tomorrow,” Jenny said, “I’ll have Peg give you a practice checkride, and we’ll see if she agrees with me about your skills. Then I can schedule a real checkride for you.”