The Misfits: Airport 2010 ----> Prologue
The Misfits: Airport 2010
by Fernando Zavala
with contributions from Jasontyler Moncada and others :)
inspired by Arthur Hailey's novel "Airport"
and the Universal motion pictures
Airport, Airport 1975, Airport '77 and The Concorde: Airport '79
Prologue: Tuesday, December 21, 2010
3:07am (EST)
North Pole, New York
"I've got it" Taylor excitedly spoke into the video phone that was connected to EVIL headquarters on St. George Island.
"Excellent!" Mr. Big exclaimed. He was shocked but at the same time thorougly unsurprised. He knew Taylor Naughton was the best agent he had on staff. He was pleased that his selection of her for the nearly-impossible mission had been vindicated.
"So what's next?" she asked, nervously.
"Nothing. Get back to Washington, get some sleep and take the day off. Chill. Enjoy yourself. Take the Metro Rail down to L'Enfant Plaza and grab yourself a pizza. Go mingle with the tourists at Obama's crib. But whatever you do, keep that recipe in a safe place. As it is security is going to be crazy today so it's better to wait a day."
"So what happens tomorrow then?"
"Tomorrow we've got you booked on a flight to Miami. Jones is gonna meet you as soon as you arrive, and he'll drive you to the Miami Yacht Club and board his yacht and sail out here."
"Sounds good to me. Do you think they might be looking for me, by any chance?"
"Naww, D.C. is full of cute blondes, you'll blend in."
"Yeah right" Taylor snickered, blowing off his cheap pass. "Well if you need me, you can catch me on your videophone, I'm out." She shut the videophone off.
Mr. Big sat back and dreamed. He had wanted the magical cupcake recipe for years now. It was those cupcakes that powered Santa's reindeer and allowed him to deliver all his Christmas presents to the world's children in one night. It would also power his army of reindeer robot drones and allow him to conqure the world. He thought about the poor timing of his plan, so close to Christmas...then laughed out loud.
Taylor looked at the recipe...the paper felt warm in her hands and it was covered in shiny glitter. She rolled it up and stuffed it in an empty lipstick tube and put it in her pocket, then put on her shades...because even at 3:10 in the morning she had to look cool...and ducked out into the freezing night. It had been so easy to crack Santa's security..."that jolly old elf thought he was so slick, not actually keeping the recipe at the real North Pole" she thought..."that fatass isn't THAT slick, especially not with Teflon Taylor coming after his stuff."
Santa had kept the recipe in the home of a retired elf in the Upstate New York town. Taylor had been there 2 weeks before, posing as a worker for the city's Elderly Services department, making a house call to check up on the old man. He was a sweet old elf, she thought, definitely someone that would work for Santa. In doing so, the old man actually showed her where the recipe was and it's purpose...it was locked in a small safe in the hall closet.
Taylor hung around New York City for the next 2 weeks while she planned her move. On the afternoon of the 20th she flew into nearby Plattsburgh, rented a car and a motel room, then during the night she briefly cased the house, trying to figure out which high-tech gadgets she was going to use to break in an get it. She had originally planned to just case the house, go back to her motel, and return with the needed equipment. But as soon as she spied the crookedly closed window near the Christmas Tree, she thought "aww hell lemme get this now!" and she just popped it open and climbed in. "Old school style" she figured. She could hear the old elf snoring in his bedroom. He was totally knocked out. Taylor quietly made her way to the hall closet, and within seconds she'd cracked the safe using her EVIL-issued iPhone, which was jailbroken and modified to perform some ridiculous feats...and the recipe was in her hands. She locked everything back up, grabbed some milk and cookies from the kitchen, then climbed back out and ran to her car.
She drove back to her motel and tried to get some sleep.
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Tuesday, December 21, 2010 9:25am (EST)
Plattsburgh International Airport, Plattsburgh, NY
Taylor fidgeted in her seat as she sat at the gate. She only slept a little bit and was now running on coffee. She looked at her boarding pass...she was booked on Trans Global Airlines flight 1382. She had taken this same flight 2 weeks back to head to New York City, but this time she was staying on the plane a lot farther, and the bizarre routing irritated her. Plattsburgh-Albany-New York/LaGuardia-Erie-Washington. "And the plane's coming from friggin' Burlington!" she sneered as the tiny, tired-looking twin-engined Douglas DC-9 jet arrived at the gate. "I'll be in D.C. by 2. I could use my jetpack and get there faster!!"
About 20 minutes later, after about 15 passengers had deplaned, Taylor and 10 others boarded the flight. While she stood in the plane's entrance, waiting for the flight attendants to help an elderly couple with their carry-ons, she studied the plane's federal health certificate which certified the plane as clean and fit to fly. She took note of the plane's registration number which was printed on it, and giggled. It was N94S. It was a shorter version of the official registration of Mr. Big's corporate jet. She remembered how he tried to register it as N69SX, then when the FAA instantly rejected it, he modified it to N96SX...and got turned down even quicker, so he finally settled on N94SX. "That dirty perverted old fuck" she thought with a chuckle...she then turned her head and glanced into the cockpit. "Wow, she's our Captain?" she wondered as she saw the young girl sitting in the left hand seat, who looked younger than even the flight attendants. Her hair was dyed blue and she could've easily passed for Bertie from Lisa Mantchev's Theatre Illuminata books. She and her almost equally young male co-pilot, a tall slender skater looking kid with long frizzy hair, barely controlled by a headband, were busy flipping switches and filling out paperwork. The epaulette on her shoulder sported the four gold stripes that denoted a Captain, and his sported the three of a First Officer. "Damn this flight crew is cool as hell!" Taylor thought. Then the line started moving so she turned her attention to finding her seat, 14F. She reached her seat pretty quickly. She put her carryon in the bin above and sat in the comfy leather seat. She looked at her small seat-back TV set in front of her, and decided she was gonna splurge and buy a cocktail and kick back and watch some Boomerang. She reassuringly patted the tube in her pocket with the magical recipe in it. Before too much longer they were airborne, hopscotching towards Washington.
By the time the recipe was discovered to be missing, Taylor was relaxing in her Washington hotel room...eating a slice of pizza.
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Tuesday December 21, 2010 1:33pm (EST)
"Global 5000 Heavy cleared for takeoff" the Air Traffic Controller announced.
The Captain eased the two engine throttles forward. "Global 5000 Heavy, rolling." The baby-faced, blue-haired young pilot kept his eye on the airspeed....100 knots...110...120...V1, the final go/no go speed...committed to takeoff...then he reached VR, the speed where he can safely rotate the plane's nose skyward and become airborne, and he complied. Then the big, wide-bodied Airbus A300 jetliner climbed into the sky smoothly.
Then, suddenly the left wing dipped and the plane dropped sharply.
The pilot's mind raced into instant action. "Oh shit, wake turbulence!" he thought. "OK just chill, you can handle this...just a little right aileron here and a little engine thrust there...don't even THINK about touching the rudder pedals...just ride the wobbling horse out...ride it out...ahhh there we go!" and the aircraft smoothed out as it climbed into the skies.
A minute later everything stopped and the cockpit grew dark and a voice boomed over the PA system "Good job, Kaiden!"
"That's it?" Kaiden asked as he climbed out of the A300 simulator, still breathing fast from the scary exercise. "Yep!" The Instructor said, "kid you're gonna have your Airbus certification before you know it, you're just a natural at flying. I've heard how good you are flying those little old, beat-up DC-9's we got so widebodies should be a snap."
"Aww thanks" Kaiden added, blushing.
"Not a problem. Leadership comes to you naturally it seems. Everyone knows about the Colombia incident, it takes a leader to do what you did so fearlessly. You certainly earned your Captain's stripes long before you actually got them."
Kaiden quietly nodded...he didn't care to remember the incident but he couldn't escape it. He had set a private goal to get certified on every aircraft in the TGA fleet. He had gotten his first certification to fly TGA's elderly McDonnell-Douglas DC-9 family aircraft, as well as the DC-9's more modern MD-80, MD-90 and Boeing 717 descendants, followed by the Boeing 757. After that he was licensed to fly Boeing's 707, 727, 737, and his first widebody certifications in the Boeing 767, McDonnell-Douglas DC-10, and Lockheed L-1011"Tri-Star" aircraft, the last two of which, along with the 707, flew exclusively for TGA's Cargo System freight division. He was now in the middle of knocking out the Airbus A300 and then he'd just have the Douglas DC-8, Boeing 777 and Boeing 747 left. He purposely saved the 747 for last...it would be a moment of pride for him when he finally went airborne, flying the queen of TGA's fleet. He relished the challenge of learning a new aircraft, taking ground school courses during his time off between flights and grabbing time on the simulators where he could. It would also make things easier on him when he gained the seniority to fly these higher paying machines as he'd just need to be recertified.
"I'm off to take my lunch. Then I'm booked solid all afternoon, you know how you Misfits are with your simulator time." Kaiden nodded in agreement...TGA's Miami-based "Misfits" practically lived on the airline's simulators, and even the A300 simulator wasn't as busy as the DC-9 simulators which practically ran 24/7. "If I don't see you again then fly safely and enjoy your Christmas, and by the way I love those orange highlights in your hair."
Kaiden laughed and they bumped fists. "Thank you! Same to you, buddy!"
He started walking away, then stopped for a moment to drink water from the water fountain. While he was drinking he sensed somebody creeping up behind him. Before he could react, he heard a familiar voice put on a ridiculously fake Jamaican accent and ask "excuse me sir, would you like a cupcake?" He stood back up and laughed as he turned around and hugged Fernando, who was, indeed, holding a box of cupcakes, fresh baked not long ago. Kaiden eagerly grabbed one.
"You're back so quick, where did you run off to?"
"Round trip to Key West and back, took 75 people down and brought 67 back. Easy money! LeeAnn and Meagan had a leftover pan of cupcakes so they shared with us."
"Aww how nice of them!" Kaiden happily explained as he clapped his hands together. TGA's fresh baked cupcakes were legendary...the idea originated among the Misfits and caught on across the airline. Passengers would order them at the start of the flight and would enjoy them midway through.
After they munched on the cupcakes, they chatted about Ferdy's afternoon job.
Kaiden asked "Are you going out again this afternoon?"
"Yeah they put me on a special job, they want me to break-in one of those Mad Dawgs they just bought from American." Ferdy replied, using a common nickname for the MD-80, which was a longer, "stretched" version of the DC-9.
"The one that just came from the desert?"
"Yeah it looks so wierd now they scrubbed out the AA name and slapped a TGA logo sticker on it."
"Ah...how old is this one?"
"She's an original, 1983."
"Woo-hoo for young planes!"
"YEAH!"
They shared a big laugh over that one. TGA's Miami base employed the airline's youngest pilots, and, inversely, it's oldest planes. A 27 year old aircraft is pretty young for them.
"Are you going out this afternoon?" Ferdy asked.
"Not sure yet. I think they have all the crews they need for today."
"Well I'm not going out till about 4 or so if you don't then come hang out with us!"
"Oh coolers!"
"And don't forget about tomorrow!" Ferdy winked at Kaiden as he told him that.
"I won't, Teech." Kaiden said with a hint of sarcasm and winked back.
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Tuesday December 21, 2010 5:25pm (EST)
Onboard Trans Global Airlines McDonnell-Douglas MD-82 (DC-9-82) N207AA operating flight #9007
over the Atlantic Ocean, approaching Miami International Airport.
"Global 9-0-0-7 turn left heading 3-0-4 descend and maintain 3-thousand." Miami Approach Control called.
"Roger Miami, turning to 3-0-4, descending to 3-thousand." Big Tom replied as Ferdy banked the plane to the left onto the assigned heading, and began descending to 3,000 feet. "Big Tom" Jackson was the co-pilot of the test flight, so-called because he stood 6-foot-4 and seemed to dominate the smaller cockpits. With his aviator sunglasses he looked like a young Isaac Hayes and had the smooth voice to match. Big Tom was operating the radio and was flipping switches, responding to the pre-landing checklist that Kaiden, sitting in the observer's jumpseat, was reading off. That left Ferdy free to fly the aircraft.
"Global 9-0-0-7 now intercepting glide path, begin normal rate of descent." They were now on the invisible electronic off-ramp that would lead them right onto the runway and they began slowly descending down the path towards it.
A few minutes later, "American 1533 cleared for landing runway 3-0, Global 8-7 turn left heading 3-0-4 descend and maintain 3-thousand."
An American Boeing 737 was landing ahead of them and a TGA DC-9, working the same flight Kaiden and Ferdy were going to work tomorrow, and running late, turned onto the glide path behind them.
They had left right about 4 o'clock and flew circles over the Everglades and Florida Bay for over an hour. Kaiden had gone out after lunch just to ferry a DC-9 up to Ft. Lauderdale, a quick 10 minute flight, and ferry another one back, then after being released by the flight dispatcher he walked out to N207AA and climbed aboard. Ferdy put the plane through it's paces on the flight. There were very few issues with the plane. The hot, dry desert air out in Roswell, New Mexico where the jet was stored after being withdrawn by American had kept it well-preserved and the wizards in the TGA hangar would hammer out the rest and get her ready to carry passengers again soon.
Ferdy swung the plane onto the compass heading that was in line with MIA's diagonal runway 30, flying towards the northwest. The beautiful orange-red December sunset was just off to the left side and the lights of Miami were spread out, twinkling in the distance and quickly approaching.
"Global 9-0-0-7 continue normal rate of descent." Miami Approach radioed.
Big Tom replied. Kaiden read off "landing gear down". Big Tom flipped the switch and the jetliner's landing gear lowered. "Gear down, three-green" Big Tom replied as the lights indicating they were down and locked lit up. A few minutes later the checklist was complete. "Thanks for the help, Kai." Big Tom added.
As they reached 1,600 feet the jet flew over Key Biscayne and began crossing over Biscayne Bay to the mainland. The setting sun glinted off the polished, shiny fuselage of the jetliner, which still sported American's familiar red, white and blue stripes, and the American and "AA" logos were still faintly visible, with large decals sporting TGA's "shooting star" logo over them. Eventually it would go in for a repaint, but for the moment they had turned heads at MIA which was a major American hub. Ferdy couldn't help but giggle as he saw their pilots' heads turn as they taxied out to the runway. Now the flight was ending as the sun slipped below the horizon. They crossed onto the mainland and the sprawling sub-tropical metropolis, which was mired in the evening rush hour, spread out below them, with the towers of Downtown Miami off to the right. The lights of the runway soon appeared before them.
"I've got the lights" Ferdy said.
Almost as if they had read his mind, Approach Control radioed "Global 9-0-0-7 cleared to land runway 3-0."
"Roger 9-0-0-7 cleared to land runway 3-0, runway in sight."
"Roger 9-0-0-7."
Big Tom made the required altitude call-outs as they descended for landing and the runway grew before them.
"Fifteen hundred feet...fourteen hundred...thirteen..."
The altimeter slowly unwound...Ferdy kept glancing at the sink rate, which measured how fast he was descending...he hated hard landings and made sure he was going just right.
"Five hundred feet...four hundred...three hundred..."
The jetliner swept over the Dolphin Expressway, with it's westbound traffic at a standstill, then over the parallel Perimeter Road and then the airport fence and then over the runway's edge.
"over the threshold..."
Fernando flared the aircraft for landing, lifting it's nose slightly.
"one hundred..fifty..."
Then the tires touched the runway surface...Fernando lowered the nose then pulled back the thrust levers and activated the wing spoilers and thrust reversers. When the big jet slowed enough he hit the brake pedals and exited onto a taxiway, then headed for the TGA maintenance hangar again to park it next to N214AA and N902TW, additional MD-80's that TGA just dragged out of the desert.
A few minutes later Kaiden and Big Tom completed the final checklist as they shut the jetliner down.
"Landing lights?"
"Off"
"Beacons?"
"Off"
"Radios?"
"Off"
"Done!"
"Well done, gents!" Ferdy said as he climbed out of the left-hand seat. "Kaiden you're a gentleman and a scholar for coming with us, we needed the help, thanks."
"Oh for sure!"
"Tom, always a pleasure!"
"Likewise, likewise."
Ferdy bumped fists with his flight crew, then when he spotted Mel walking towards them, he added "lemme go ease the Emperor's nerves."
Fernando stepped off the plane down the steps that had placed by the front door by the ground crew and met the "Emperor", Mel Thomas, who was the base's Operations Manager.
"Well??? How'd she behave?" Mel asked, concerned.
"Just peachy" Ferdy replied, "a couple of minor things, that's it, no big deal so you can relax and chill now."
"I hope so, it took me most of the year to get headquarters to spring the cash to buy these three."
"Well once all three are done you can go back to kicking your heels up in your office and take those nice 2-hour lunches you like to take."
"I don't take 2 hour lunches!"
"Okay 90 minute lunches and you owe me one." Both of them laughed out loud at that one.
"We still have the other two to do, 214 is going out about 10 tonight."
"I will be home! With my heels kicked up, and a rack of ribs broiling in the oven. I'll wave to it as it flies by."
"Sounds cool to me. Fix me a plate!"
"Sheeeit pay me first, Emperor!" Fernando held his hand out and Mel laughingly slapped it. The two got on well, Mel was a senior Captain when Fernando began flying. A few years later he pole vaulted into Management and eventually got the Ops Manager's post and gained the nickname "Emperor Misfit" as he held one of the highest positions at the crew base. Outside of Miami he also held the uncomplimentary nickname of "Chief Babysitter", a swipe at the base's young pilots and their perceived immaturity. Mel knew they didn't understand, and whenever he heard a snide comment at one of the airline's top level meetings in Chicago or New York, he wasn't afraid to get right in the commentator's face and tell him a thing or two about his charges. Those meetings were fun.
Kaiden and Big Tom caught up to them. Mel cautioned the whole group "You boys better get some sleep. Tomorrow's gonna be a bad day."
"The storm?" Kaiden asked.
"Yeah. They're saying it may be the worst we've had in 50 years. It's blowing up in the Gulf right now. Gonna knock our temperatures even farther down, too."
"Sheez it's chilly now as it is" Big Tom added as he buttoned his uniform jacket and pulled his hat down low in the chilly breeze that just kicked up.
"We'll be alright." Ferdy said, confidently.
"You'll be alright when you hook it up with some ribs!" Mel said with a big grin on his face.
The group laughed as they walked to the crew room.
by Fernando Zavala
with contributions from Jasontyler Moncada and others :)
inspired by Arthur Hailey's novel "Airport"
and the Universal motion pictures
Airport, Airport 1975, Airport '77 and The Concorde: Airport '79
Prologue: Tuesday, December 21, 2010
3:07am (EST)
North Pole, New York
"I've got it" Taylor excitedly spoke into the video phone that was connected to EVIL headquarters on St. George Island.
"Excellent!" Mr. Big exclaimed. He was shocked but at the same time thorougly unsurprised. He knew Taylor Naughton was the best agent he had on staff. He was pleased that his selection of her for the nearly-impossible mission had been vindicated.
"So what's next?" she asked, nervously.
"Nothing. Get back to Washington, get some sleep and take the day off. Chill. Enjoy yourself. Take the Metro Rail down to L'Enfant Plaza and grab yourself a pizza. Go mingle with the tourists at Obama's crib. But whatever you do, keep that recipe in a safe place. As it is security is going to be crazy today so it's better to wait a day."
"So what happens tomorrow then?"
"Tomorrow we've got you booked on a flight to Miami. Jones is gonna meet you as soon as you arrive, and he'll drive you to the Miami Yacht Club and board his yacht and sail out here."
"Sounds good to me. Do you think they might be looking for me, by any chance?"
"Naww, D.C. is full of cute blondes, you'll blend in."
"Yeah right" Taylor snickered, blowing off his cheap pass. "Well if you need me, you can catch me on your videophone, I'm out." She shut the videophone off.
Mr. Big sat back and dreamed. He had wanted the magical cupcake recipe for years now. It was those cupcakes that powered Santa's reindeer and allowed him to deliver all his Christmas presents to the world's children in one night. It would also power his army of reindeer robot drones and allow him to conqure the world. He thought about the poor timing of his plan, so close to Christmas...then laughed out loud.
Taylor looked at the recipe...the paper felt warm in her hands and it was covered in shiny glitter. She rolled it up and stuffed it in an empty lipstick tube and put it in her pocket, then put on her shades...because even at 3:10 in the morning she had to look cool...and ducked out into the freezing night. It had been so easy to crack Santa's security..."that jolly old elf thought he was so slick, not actually keeping the recipe at the real North Pole" she thought..."that fatass isn't THAT slick, especially not with Teflon Taylor coming after his stuff."
Santa had kept the recipe in the home of a retired elf in the Upstate New York town. Taylor had been there 2 weeks before, posing as a worker for the city's Elderly Services department, making a house call to check up on the old man. He was a sweet old elf, she thought, definitely someone that would work for Santa. In doing so, the old man actually showed her where the recipe was and it's purpose...it was locked in a small safe in the hall closet.
Taylor hung around New York City for the next 2 weeks while she planned her move. On the afternoon of the 20th she flew into nearby Plattsburgh, rented a car and a motel room, then during the night she briefly cased the house, trying to figure out which high-tech gadgets she was going to use to break in an get it. She had originally planned to just case the house, go back to her motel, and return with the needed equipment. But as soon as she spied the crookedly closed window near the Christmas Tree, she thought "aww hell lemme get this now!" and she just popped it open and climbed in. "Old school style" she figured. She could hear the old elf snoring in his bedroom. He was totally knocked out. Taylor quietly made her way to the hall closet, and within seconds she'd cracked the safe using her EVIL-issued iPhone, which was jailbroken and modified to perform some ridiculous feats...and the recipe was in her hands. She locked everything back up, grabbed some milk and cookies from the kitchen, then climbed back out and ran to her car.
She drove back to her motel and tried to get some sleep.
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Tuesday, December 21, 2010 9:25am (EST)
Plattsburgh International Airport, Plattsburgh, NY
Taylor fidgeted in her seat as she sat at the gate. She only slept a little bit and was now running on coffee. She looked at her boarding pass...she was booked on Trans Global Airlines flight 1382. She had taken this same flight 2 weeks back to head to New York City, but this time she was staying on the plane a lot farther, and the bizarre routing irritated her. Plattsburgh-Albany-New York/LaGuardia-Erie-Washington. "And the plane's coming from friggin' Burlington!" she sneered as the tiny, tired-looking twin-engined Douglas DC-9 jet arrived at the gate. "I'll be in D.C. by 2. I could use my jetpack and get there faster!!"
About 20 minutes later, after about 15 passengers had deplaned, Taylor and 10 others boarded the flight. While she stood in the plane's entrance, waiting for the flight attendants to help an elderly couple with their carry-ons, she studied the plane's federal health certificate which certified the plane as clean and fit to fly. She took note of the plane's registration number which was printed on it, and giggled. It was N94S. It was a shorter version of the official registration of Mr. Big's corporate jet. She remembered how he tried to register it as N69SX, then when the FAA instantly rejected it, he modified it to N96SX...and got turned down even quicker, so he finally settled on N94SX. "That dirty perverted old fuck" she thought with a chuckle...she then turned her head and glanced into the cockpit. "Wow, she's our Captain?" she wondered as she saw the young girl sitting in the left hand seat, who looked younger than even the flight attendants. Her hair was dyed blue and she could've easily passed for Bertie from Lisa Mantchev's Theatre Illuminata books. She and her almost equally young male co-pilot, a tall slender skater looking kid with long frizzy hair, barely controlled by a headband, were busy flipping switches and filling out paperwork. The epaulette on her shoulder sported the four gold stripes that denoted a Captain, and his sported the three of a First Officer. "Damn this flight crew is cool as hell!" Taylor thought. Then the line started moving so she turned her attention to finding her seat, 14F. She reached her seat pretty quickly. She put her carryon in the bin above and sat in the comfy leather seat. She looked at her small seat-back TV set in front of her, and decided she was gonna splurge and buy a cocktail and kick back and watch some Boomerang. She reassuringly patted the tube in her pocket with the magical recipe in it. Before too much longer they were airborne, hopscotching towards Washington.
By the time the recipe was discovered to be missing, Taylor was relaxing in her Washington hotel room...eating a slice of pizza.
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Tuesday December 21, 2010 1:33pm (EST)
"Global 5000 Heavy cleared for takeoff" the Air Traffic Controller announced.
The Captain eased the two engine throttles forward. "Global 5000 Heavy, rolling." The baby-faced, blue-haired young pilot kept his eye on the airspeed....100 knots...110...120...V1, the final go/no go speed...committed to takeoff...then he reached VR, the speed where he can safely rotate the plane's nose skyward and become airborne, and he complied. Then the big, wide-bodied Airbus A300 jetliner climbed into the sky smoothly.
Then, suddenly the left wing dipped and the plane dropped sharply.
The pilot's mind raced into instant action. "Oh shit, wake turbulence!" he thought. "OK just chill, you can handle this...just a little right aileron here and a little engine thrust there...don't even THINK about touching the rudder pedals...just ride the wobbling horse out...ride it out...ahhh there we go!" and the aircraft smoothed out as it climbed into the skies.
A minute later everything stopped and the cockpit grew dark and a voice boomed over the PA system "Good job, Kaiden!"
"That's it?" Kaiden asked as he climbed out of the A300 simulator, still breathing fast from the scary exercise. "Yep!" The Instructor said, "kid you're gonna have your Airbus certification before you know it, you're just a natural at flying. I've heard how good you are flying those little old, beat-up DC-9's we got so widebodies should be a snap."
"Aww thanks" Kaiden added, blushing.
"Not a problem. Leadership comes to you naturally it seems. Everyone knows about the Colombia incident, it takes a leader to do what you did so fearlessly. You certainly earned your Captain's stripes long before you actually got them."
Kaiden quietly nodded...he didn't care to remember the incident but he couldn't escape it. He had set a private goal to get certified on every aircraft in the TGA fleet. He had gotten his first certification to fly TGA's elderly McDonnell-Douglas DC-9 family aircraft, as well as the DC-9's more modern MD-80, MD-90 and Boeing 717 descendants, followed by the Boeing 757. After that he was licensed to fly Boeing's 707, 727, 737, and his first widebody certifications in the Boeing 767, McDonnell-Douglas DC-10, and Lockheed L-1011"Tri-Star" aircraft, the last two of which, along with the 707, flew exclusively for TGA's Cargo System freight division. He was now in the middle of knocking out the Airbus A300 and then he'd just have the Douglas DC-8, Boeing 777 and Boeing 747 left. He purposely saved the 747 for last...it would be a moment of pride for him when he finally went airborne, flying the queen of TGA's fleet. He relished the challenge of learning a new aircraft, taking ground school courses during his time off between flights and grabbing time on the simulators where he could. It would also make things easier on him when he gained the seniority to fly these higher paying machines as he'd just need to be recertified.
"I'm off to take my lunch. Then I'm booked solid all afternoon, you know how you Misfits are with your simulator time." Kaiden nodded in agreement...TGA's Miami-based "Misfits" practically lived on the airline's simulators, and even the A300 simulator wasn't as busy as the DC-9 simulators which practically ran 24/7. "If I don't see you again then fly safely and enjoy your Christmas, and by the way I love those orange highlights in your hair."
Kaiden laughed and they bumped fists. "Thank you! Same to you, buddy!"
He started walking away, then stopped for a moment to drink water from the water fountain. While he was drinking he sensed somebody creeping up behind him. Before he could react, he heard a familiar voice put on a ridiculously fake Jamaican accent and ask "excuse me sir, would you like a cupcake?" He stood back up and laughed as he turned around and hugged Fernando, who was, indeed, holding a box of cupcakes, fresh baked not long ago. Kaiden eagerly grabbed one.
"You're back so quick, where did you run off to?"
"Round trip to Key West and back, took 75 people down and brought 67 back. Easy money! LeeAnn and Meagan had a leftover pan of cupcakes so they shared with us."
"Aww how nice of them!" Kaiden happily explained as he clapped his hands together. TGA's fresh baked cupcakes were legendary...the idea originated among the Misfits and caught on across the airline. Passengers would order them at the start of the flight and would enjoy them midway through.
After they munched on the cupcakes, they chatted about Ferdy's afternoon job.
Kaiden asked "Are you going out again this afternoon?"
"Yeah they put me on a special job, they want me to break-in one of those Mad Dawgs they just bought from American." Ferdy replied, using a common nickname for the MD-80, which was a longer, "stretched" version of the DC-9.
"The one that just came from the desert?"
"Yeah it looks so wierd now they scrubbed out the AA name and slapped a TGA logo sticker on it."
"Ah...how old is this one?"
"She's an original, 1983."
"Woo-hoo for young planes!"
"YEAH!"
They shared a big laugh over that one. TGA's Miami base employed the airline's youngest pilots, and, inversely, it's oldest planes. A 27 year old aircraft is pretty young for them.
"Are you going out this afternoon?" Ferdy asked.
"Not sure yet. I think they have all the crews they need for today."
"Well I'm not going out till about 4 or so if you don't then come hang out with us!"
"Oh coolers!"
"And don't forget about tomorrow!" Ferdy winked at Kaiden as he told him that.
"I won't, Teech." Kaiden said with a hint of sarcasm and winked back.
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Tuesday December 21, 2010 5:25pm (EST)
Onboard Trans Global Airlines McDonnell-Douglas MD-82 (DC-9-82) N207AA operating flight #9007
over the Atlantic Ocean, approaching Miami International Airport.
"Global 9-0-0-7 turn left heading 3-0-4 descend and maintain 3-thousand." Miami Approach Control called.
"Roger Miami, turning to 3-0-4, descending to 3-thousand." Big Tom replied as Ferdy banked the plane to the left onto the assigned heading, and began descending to 3,000 feet. "Big Tom" Jackson was the co-pilot of the test flight, so-called because he stood 6-foot-4 and seemed to dominate the smaller cockpits. With his aviator sunglasses he looked like a young Isaac Hayes and had the smooth voice to match. Big Tom was operating the radio and was flipping switches, responding to the pre-landing checklist that Kaiden, sitting in the observer's jumpseat, was reading off. That left Ferdy free to fly the aircraft.
"Global 9-0-0-7 now intercepting glide path, begin normal rate of descent." They were now on the invisible electronic off-ramp that would lead them right onto the runway and they began slowly descending down the path towards it.
A few minutes later, "American 1533 cleared for landing runway 3-0, Global 8-7 turn left heading 3-0-4 descend and maintain 3-thousand."
An American Boeing 737 was landing ahead of them and a TGA DC-9, working the same flight Kaiden and Ferdy were going to work tomorrow, and running late, turned onto the glide path behind them.
They had left right about 4 o'clock and flew circles over the Everglades and Florida Bay for over an hour. Kaiden had gone out after lunch just to ferry a DC-9 up to Ft. Lauderdale, a quick 10 minute flight, and ferry another one back, then after being released by the flight dispatcher he walked out to N207AA and climbed aboard. Ferdy put the plane through it's paces on the flight. There were very few issues with the plane. The hot, dry desert air out in Roswell, New Mexico where the jet was stored after being withdrawn by American had kept it well-preserved and the wizards in the TGA hangar would hammer out the rest and get her ready to carry passengers again soon.
Ferdy swung the plane onto the compass heading that was in line with MIA's diagonal runway 30, flying towards the northwest. The beautiful orange-red December sunset was just off to the left side and the lights of Miami were spread out, twinkling in the distance and quickly approaching.
"Global 9-0-0-7 continue normal rate of descent." Miami Approach radioed.
Big Tom replied. Kaiden read off "landing gear down". Big Tom flipped the switch and the jetliner's landing gear lowered. "Gear down, three-green" Big Tom replied as the lights indicating they were down and locked lit up. A few minutes later the checklist was complete. "Thanks for the help, Kai." Big Tom added.
As they reached 1,600 feet the jet flew over Key Biscayne and began crossing over Biscayne Bay to the mainland. The setting sun glinted off the polished, shiny fuselage of the jetliner, which still sported American's familiar red, white and blue stripes, and the American and "AA" logos were still faintly visible, with large decals sporting TGA's "shooting star" logo over them. Eventually it would go in for a repaint, but for the moment they had turned heads at MIA which was a major American hub. Ferdy couldn't help but giggle as he saw their pilots' heads turn as they taxied out to the runway. Now the flight was ending as the sun slipped below the horizon. They crossed onto the mainland and the sprawling sub-tropical metropolis, which was mired in the evening rush hour, spread out below them, with the towers of Downtown Miami off to the right. The lights of the runway soon appeared before them.
"I've got the lights" Ferdy said.
Almost as if they had read his mind, Approach Control radioed "Global 9-0-0-7 cleared to land runway 3-0."
"Roger 9-0-0-7 cleared to land runway 3-0, runway in sight."
"Roger 9-0-0-7."
Big Tom made the required altitude call-outs as they descended for landing and the runway grew before them.
"Fifteen hundred feet...fourteen hundred...thirteen..."
The altimeter slowly unwound...Ferdy kept glancing at the sink rate, which measured how fast he was descending...he hated hard landings and made sure he was going just right.
"Five hundred feet...four hundred...three hundred..."
The jetliner swept over the Dolphin Expressway, with it's westbound traffic at a standstill, then over the parallel Perimeter Road and then the airport fence and then over the runway's edge.
"over the threshold..."
Fernando flared the aircraft for landing, lifting it's nose slightly.
"one hundred..fifty..."
Then the tires touched the runway surface...Fernando lowered the nose then pulled back the thrust levers and activated the wing spoilers and thrust reversers. When the big jet slowed enough he hit the brake pedals and exited onto a taxiway, then headed for the TGA maintenance hangar again to park it next to N214AA and N902TW, additional MD-80's that TGA just dragged out of the desert.
A few minutes later Kaiden and Big Tom completed the final checklist as they shut the jetliner down.
"Landing lights?"
"Off"
"Beacons?"
"Off"
"Radios?"
"Off"
"Done!"
"Well done, gents!" Ferdy said as he climbed out of the left-hand seat. "Kaiden you're a gentleman and a scholar for coming with us, we needed the help, thanks."
"Oh for sure!"
"Tom, always a pleasure!"
"Likewise, likewise."
Ferdy bumped fists with his flight crew, then when he spotted Mel walking towards them, he added "lemme go ease the Emperor's nerves."
Fernando stepped off the plane down the steps that had placed by the front door by the ground crew and met the "Emperor", Mel Thomas, who was the base's Operations Manager.
"Well??? How'd she behave?" Mel asked, concerned.
"Just peachy" Ferdy replied, "a couple of minor things, that's it, no big deal so you can relax and chill now."
"I hope so, it took me most of the year to get headquarters to spring the cash to buy these three."
"Well once all three are done you can go back to kicking your heels up in your office and take those nice 2-hour lunches you like to take."
"I don't take 2 hour lunches!"
"Okay 90 minute lunches and you owe me one." Both of them laughed out loud at that one.
"We still have the other two to do, 214 is going out about 10 tonight."
"I will be home! With my heels kicked up, and a rack of ribs broiling in the oven. I'll wave to it as it flies by."
"Sounds cool to me. Fix me a plate!"
"Sheeeit pay me first, Emperor!" Fernando held his hand out and Mel laughingly slapped it. The two got on well, Mel was a senior Captain when Fernando began flying. A few years later he pole vaulted into Management and eventually got the Ops Manager's post and gained the nickname "Emperor Misfit" as he held one of the highest positions at the crew base. Outside of Miami he also held the uncomplimentary nickname of "Chief Babysitter", a swipe at the base's young pilots and their perceived immaturity. Mel knew they didn't understand, and whenever he heard a snide comment at one of the airline's top level meetings in Chicago or New York, he wasn't afraid to get right in the commentator's face and tell him a thing or two about his charges. Those meetings were fun.
Kaiden and Big Tom caught up to them. Mel cautioned the whole group "You boys better get some sleep. Tomorrow's gonna be a bad day."
"The storm?" Kaiden asked.
"Yeah. They're saying it may be the worst we've had in 50 years. It's blowing up in the Gulf right now. Gonna knock our temperatures even farther down, too."
"Sheez it's chilly now as it is" Big Tom added as he buttoned his uniform jacket and pulled his hat down low in the chilly breeze that just kicked up.
"We'll be alright." Ferdy said, confidently.
"You'll be alright when you hook it up with some ribs!" Mel said with a big grin on his face.
The group laughed as they walked to the crew room.