Free The Hot Pilots by T. E. Cruise Page B

saved the day.
    “A bunch of us over at the Company have had our eyes on you since you helped smooth out things,” Horton continued. “We don’t
     forget, kid; not our enemies, and
especially
not our friends. My superiors have talked with your superiors, and I’ve gotten the okay.”
    “Okay for
what?
” Steve asked sharply. “Jack, nobody’s talked to
me
—”
    “I’m talking to you now. I’m offering you a tour of duty with the Company. You know as well as I do that some time working
     with us could really advance your career.”
    “I
do
know that,” Steve murmured, intrigued. The CIA and the Air Force had done a lot of work together concerning aerial reconnaissance
     since the advent of the Cold War. Those Air Force officers who had “sheep-dipped”—taken a temporary tour of duty with the
     Agency—had moved quickly up the promotional ladder. “But you haven’t told me what it is I’d be doing …”
    “We’ve got a new spy plane,” Horton said. “A plane that will allow us to go anywhere we want over the Soviet Union and take
     pictures to our heart’s content.”
    “I’ve heard a little about that.” Steve nodded. “This new bird you guys are building is supposed to be state of the art.”
    “It is,” Horton said proudly. “It’s code-named Mayfly—”
    Steve laughed.
    “What’s so funny?” Horton demanded, sounding affronted.
    “Well, hell, Jack, you’ve got to admit Mayfly is kind of a pessimistic moniker. I mean, everybody
knows
a mayfly only lives for a day…”
    Horton stared at him, his eyes blinking rapidly from behind those black horn-rims. “Anyway, the May—
our spy plane
—is in the prototype stage. We’ve got to start thinking about recruiting and training pilots.”
    “Aren’t you going to get them from the Air Force?” Steve asked.
    “Yes and no. You see, officially this is strictly a Company operation, but unofficially, the Air Force is working hand in
     glove with us, and is willing to
lend
us some pilots. The Air Force is willing to release them for the time they’ll be serving with the Company, and then reinstate
     them with no penalties concerning promotion or retirement when we’re done with them.”
    “It sounds to me like you’re looking for volunteers,” Steve said. “Is that what you want me to do? Volunteer to fly one of
     these babies?” He thought,
If taking snapshots of Red Square is what the future holds, getting out of the Air Force and going to work for Pop is looking
     better all the time
.
    Horton shook his head, smiling. “You underestimate yourself, kid. You’re far too valuable to be wasted in a cockpit.”
    Hearing that made Steve feel wonderful. That was the first time anybody important who wasn’t
related
to him had suggested that he was good for something other than flying airplanes.
    “Like you said, the pilots we need are going to have to volunteer,” Horton continued. “We’re willing to pay well to get them
     to work for us, but the job we’re going to be asking them to do is going to be pretty dangerous. Nobody in his right mind
     would do it just for the money. These pilots are going to need to be
recruited, motivated
, and
trained
—” He paused. “That’s where you come in. You’re just the guy we need to get us those pilots and instill in them the
need
to
succeed
. You’ve got the wartime record and the reputation to make the guys we’re after look up to you.”
    “It kind of sounds like public relations stuff all over again,” Steve said doubtfully.
    “It’s not public relations, it’s
leadership
,” Horton argued. “This is an important job, and it’s going to take brains to pull it off. A lot of the top brass, in and
out
of uniform will be watching. You pull this off and you’ll be able to write your own ticket: an assignment to the Joint Chiefs
     of Staff, the State Department …”
    Steve had stopped listening when Horton had said the job required brains. Here was a job that required