Free Wings of Steele - Destination Unknown (Book 1) by Jeffrey Burger Page A

be going along."
    "Yes
sir." She disappeared.
    "Cummins,
go home and pack. Pack light. Call Maggie, she'll have your
directions for the plane... don't be late."
    The
young man rose, straightening his jacket, "Yes sir."
    The
Director stood at the window looking out over the city, his back to
the agent as he left the office. He had fixed his share of fuck-ups
in his career, he'd fix this one too. Dammit, he wanted that plane
back. And in one piece. Which means he had to find it before anyone
else did, no small task in an area littered with islands. And if he
hit the South American Continent, shit, he didn't even want to think
about that. His only hope was, that kid Steele... a skilled pilot,
resourceful too. To find that plane, meant thinking like a civilian,
a civilian on the run, with police and combat survival experience.
An extremely dangerous combination, he decided.
    Maggie
knocked then entered. "Sir, Kevin is waiting."
    Stephen
downed his coffee, "Thanks," he muttered, grabbing his
jacket and setting the coffee mug on the table. "Call you
later." He handed her the sealed burn-bag of shredded
documents, “Burn this for me, will you...?”

CHAPTER
FIVE
    US
AIRCRAFT CARRIER, SHENANDOAH: BERMUDA TRIANGLE
    The
Ensign walked down the seemingly endless hallway, lined with
officer's quarters, looking for one in particular. He found it and
knocked on the open doorway. The occupant was comfortably reclining,
fully clothed, on his bunk. He looked up from the book he was
reading. The lines on his face and the sparkle of silver in his
sandy blond hair gained him the nickname "Pappy" by some
of the other pilots.
    Though
he was only forty-two years old, he was still years older than most
of the other pilots who were barely in their twenties. He had also
flown extensive combat sorties in the Gulf War which made him
somewhat of a legend with the newer officers. All in all, the
Lieutenant Commander kind of enjoyed the attention because it had never
been done with any disrespect intended.
    "What
can I do for you Ensign?" he said, with his legendary smile,
the crinkles around his blue eyes deepening.
    "Sorry
to bother you, Pappy, but the Skipper wants you in briefing right
away."
    Lieutenant
Commander Paul Smiley looked at his watch, "What gives? I'm not
due to go up for another hour and a half."
    The
Ensign shrugged, "Don't know, sir, but he said right away."
    "Ok...
Warren too?"
    "Yes
sir..." said the junior officer, "do you know where I
might find him?"
    Smiley
swung his feet over the edge of the bunk. "Try the forward
lounge, he said something about a football game on TV."
    "Thanks,
Pappy." The Ensign saluted and disappeared down the hallway,
leaving the pilot alone with his thoughts.
    Being
called to briefing this far in advance of a scheduled patrol launch
meant you weren't going out for just a patrol, there was something
out there somewhere. Smiley dropped off his bunk to the deck. His
five-foot eleven-inch frame was solid and muscular, remaining so due
to the rigors of being a fighter jock. A graduate of the Navy's Top
Gun program, he had long since traversed the stage of being a cocky
young hot dog to a cool, calculating, tremendously skilled, fighter
pilot.
    After
donning his flight gear and checking himself in the mirror, he
headed off to flight briefing. Lieutenant Commander Smiley met his
wingman, Lieutenant JG Mike Mad
Dog Warren, in the corridor just outside the briefing room. Mike Warren
was a wiry kid from Iowa with curly auburn hair. His freckled face
made him look much younger than his twenty-five years and his small
town, Midwestern upbringing, made him sound as naive as he looked.
    Still,
despite his sedate childhood, his clear, brown eyes sparkled at the
thought of flying just about anything. Mike's enthusiasm was evident
in his flying. He had a strong aptitude, and the advanced combat
maneuvers Paul had taught him were coming along nicely.
    Pappy
inspected Mike's flight gear. "Ready?"
    "Yep."
    "Ok...
let's go." They