You [Birds] Have a Choice to Make

“N512AS, no landing information available for Gusty Garden airport, their ATIS is… last reporting information Lima.”

“We’ll get it and relay it back to you if it’s changed.”

“512AS, I appreciate that.”

“Gusty Garden airport information November, 2358Z. Wind 320 at 7. Visibility 9, mist. Sky condition overcast 4,200, scattered 15,000, broken 25,000. Temperature -1, dewpoint -4. Altimeter 29.88. All runways restricted access, prior permission required. Advise on initial contact you have information November.”

“Chicago Approach, Gusty Garden is reporting information November.”

“N512AS, roger. Thank you. Report the airport in sight.”

“In sight, 512AS.”

“Roger, change to advisory frequency approved. IFR flight plan is closed, retain squawk code to landing for flight following. Have a great day!”

“Change to advisory approved, squawk to the ground, same to you, N512AS.”

Below 250, flaps 5.

210 and slowing, flaps 10.

200 or less, flaps 15.

Lower landing gear.

3 green, down and locked.

Below 190, flaps 25.

175 knots, flaps 30.

1000.

100.

50.

40.

30.

20.

10.

Touchdown. Spoilers up, brakes on, 2 in reverse.

60 knots, disengage reverse thrust.

Clear of the runway; spoilers down, flaps up, strobes, pulse, landing lights off. Squawk 1200.

“I know it’s late, and the sun has gone down, but I’d like to show you to the terminal where you’d base operations.”

“Sure.”

After we unload, I load up two of my large golf carts with our things, Applejack driving the second one. With an airport about the size of O’Hare, it’s not exactly walking distance.

The terminal in question is a large FBO that was used by general aviation. In its prime, she would’ve seen quite a few operations, and could fit quite a few airliners in the ramp space. An operation like theirs, based on what I’ve been told, will need about this space, maybe even more, though future growth per their own calculations can be dealt with later. With the obvious [teething] troubles of starting new, having at least some base of operations would make sense, at least if it were me.

“I like it. Moving here will be something to get used to though.” Celaeno says upon her first impressions of the building.

“Do you want to leave California? I wouldn’t mind shuttling you.”

“I don’t know. It’s definitely a lot to think about.”

“Oh! I completely forgot. You’re rated in the 757 and 767. Did you express a preference?”

“I did say we want to expand our operation, so we could all just get multiple 757s and split the crew up.”

“I have no shortage of those, or either type actually. I was the one who acquired all of Delta’s Boeing aircraft. You could blame me for them going all Airbus, but they always wanted to, so all I did was rescue the Boeing aircraft.”

“I did wonder why so many Delta tails were sitting around here.”

“Among other reasons. I know you were confident in leasing my aircraft, and I do have plenty of those to go around, and still more coming in. I don’t want to pressure you one way or another, but I must admit: in expressing your confidence for leasing airplanes of mine, I am feeling a little put off by your albeit not-unfounded reluctance.”

“If I didn’t affirm your hopes, yes, we would love to lease airplanes from you, and yes, it makes really good business sense for us to set up a base of operations here. Obviously, this place does need a few homey touches, and it would be a change moving to this part of the country. I personally however am ready to start building the foundation of our new business.

“However, the only thing standing in our way is a restructuring of our business model. With how much cargo we were moving before we were furloughed, there are a few things we have to do for our business before we can make additional affirmations.”

“In that case, help me help you. I know things haven’t gone maybe as quickly as either of us had hoped, but I’m not on a fixed schedule.”

“Neither are we. Dash said that you needed time to recuperate, so we all kind of unwound over the past few days.”

“That is appreciated. Nevertheless, now that we’re here, I can show you my expansive list of available ships tomorrow.”

“Sure.”

Next morning, I find AJ having fallen asleep on one of my couches outside. More or less amazed at how I’m awake before her, I ultimately write it off as jet lag.

Naturally, I leave her to it and get ready for the day. As Celaeno’s crew slept in the old GA hangar, I hope to get a leg up on showing off my available 757s.

Wasting no time getting a super tug running, I tow two 757s to the ramp. One is from Atlanta, and the other… from Dallas. This is one of the 757s that hosted repatriation flights, which along with a few of its sister ships was converted to a freighter. Why the two in particular? Same question I asked Rainbow Dash when she began training with me, Rolls-Royce engines (AA) or Pratt & Whitney (DL).

The sound of my busyness must’ve woken some of the crew up, because they step outside just as I tow the second 757 onto the ramp.

“Good morning!” I call to whomever is standing at the entry door. “I have two available 757 types for you, so the call is yours.

“Rolls-Royce?” I ask pointing to the Chrome-body.

“Or Pratt & Whitney?” I ask pointing to the blue tail.

“Talk to the boss.” A voice I can only surmise as Brutus’ booms back.

“No hurry. Be right back.”

With that, I head back to the former airline terminals to grab breakfast and check on Applejack.

“Mornin’ Sugarcube!” She calls while preparing breakfast with what little ingredients were left in the fridge.

“How could you cook with what’s left in the fridge?”

“I went shoppin’.”

“What car did you take?”

“The white Audi.”

“That’s Rosalina’s car. It was the car she owned when we first met. Surprised she never sent it to her world.”

“Really?” She blushes.

“Yeah. I’m not worried about it, and I don’t think Rosalina would be either. Besides, it does need to be driven.”

“Say… do ya miss her?” She then asks with trepidation.

“Rosalina? Of course I do…” I answer longingly, “and so does she. Matter of fact, despite having the Lumas with her, I think it really hit her hard that she’s unable to return to this world indefinitely. I don’t think at any time since we’ve known each other up until we last talked did I see her cry.

“I didn’t think she would ever get to that point. Even while we were married, she always kept a level head. She’s a lot like you in that respect.”

“I know. We talked a lot when ye were still together. I just hope we can still be friends, ‘cause I kinda feel like she thinks I stole you from her.”

“She doesn’t think that. She wanted a divorce even before we met. She only waited until that holiday season to voice it.”

“Still, I can’t help but feel like I got in between the two of ya.”

“Trust me. You didn’t.” I smile. “Thanks for doing this, by the way. I’m waiting on the final decision for airplanes from my soon-to-be clients. Just waiting on which engine they want powering their fleet.”

“Of course, Sugarcube. Happy to do it. And to finally spend some time with you.”

“Even though most of it was spent either bunked up in the crew rest module or with anyone else but me?”

“You said so yourself: quality time is a love language. Besides, I enjoy seein’ someone at work. As do you.”

“Man in uniform?”

“Sorta, kinda… but not really. It’s excitin’ just to see you fly a plane.”

“Same for me. Obviously.” I reply giddily.

AJ chuckles.

“Ye’r cute when ye’r excited.”

“It’s how I got Rosalina to marry me.

“Not really.” I add after a long enough pause before taking a bite of what she’s prepared and heading back out to the ramp, returning to the GA terminal to find the entire crew waiting for me.

“Have we made a decision?”

“I think…” Celaeno says stepping forward. “Actually, what differences are there?”

“Well, the Rolls-Royce RB211 has a slightly higher thrust rating, provides better climb performance, and a slightly better dispatch reliability. The Pratt & Whitney PW2000 series is quieter, slightly cheaper to operate, and has longer maintenance intervals.”

“Don’t make anything final yet, but I think we’ll stick to familiars. Pratt & Whitney.”

She then looks around at the rest of her crew, who mostly nod in agreement.

“What kind of engines did your 767 have?” I then ask.

“P-Dub (PW).”

“I like it, though you’d be transitioning from 4000 series to 2000 series. -300ER, right?”

“Yessir!”

“Good looks. How many do you think you’ll need?”

“Two to a plane, and I have another mate of mine who can join me, so… five.”

“Very nice.” I reply in a mock Kazakh voice. “Would you like to do a test flight?”

“Sure.”

“Winglets ‘er no?”

“Probably not.”

“I have a slew of Pratt & Whitney that I’m sure you’ll love. Let me get them for you.”

With that, I tow the RR AA off the ramp and fetch another ship in the set of ex-Delta 757s that hopefully will serve this crew and serve them well.

Eventually, after about an hour, I present 5 non-winglet ex-Delta 757-200s. They’ve been sitting for a bit since they were converted into freighters and as such will need a flight or a few to see what they need before they reenter service. To that I call my two trusty mechanics.

“Hello?” Sunny Flare answers.

“Hi Sunny Flare, Max here. How you doin’?”

“Not bad. Just working out a small kink in an FMS computer. And you?”

“I’m not too bad myself. How urgent is that fix?”

“It’s on one of the 787s that came from Norwegian.”

“-8 or -9?”

“-9.”

“If you’re not in the middle of something important with that, would you mind coming to Illinois to work on some 757s? I just brought them out of storage and have clients that want to lease them.”

“No problem. Would it be okay if I brought a friend to keep me company?”

“I don’t mind at all, as long as they’re careful in the shop and you take all your virus precautions. Wouldn’t want any‘a youse getting sick. I’m asking Torque Wrench to come too.”

“Sounds like a plan. When will you be ready for me?”

“I’ll need to talk to Torque Wrench and see when she can come out here, and my clients still have to do the test flights. I’ll have to get back to you on that.”

“I can make myself available. Just let me know.”

“Will do. Talk to you soon.”

“Alright, bye.”

“Bye.”

“Hello?” Torque Wrench answers a couple minutes later.

“Hey Torque, [it’s] Max. How you doing?”

“Okay. You?”

“Not bad. Say, can you come to Illinois to work on some 757s?”

“Sure! When?”

“I’m not sure yet. I just pulled them out of storage, so my clients need to do a test flight to see what items need to be addressed. Sunny Flare will be on her way here too, so I can shuttle you when the time comes.”

“No problem. Just let us know.”

“Will do, see you soon.”

“Alrighty, bye!”

A few minutes later, Applejack asks me to bring her over, so I whisk her over and get things started with the help of an external power unit.

With one ship running, despite an exit limit of 5, we all pile in, Applejack included, to go for a test flight.

For procedural reasons, I take the left seat just for taxi. Our tentative plan for now, cold as it is, and with the already-padded downturn in travel to Chicago due to up and coming rules about quarantine (only in the city), I think we can confidently do our test flights over Lake Michigan. That’s why when we depart, I’ll communicate with ATC. I know the area well, and assuming an east flow, I think we should be okay. That’s what flight following is for.

“Takeoff flaps 15 for all takeoffs has been my SOP. I’m sure you may find a good time to use flaps 5, but I always stick to 15.”

“We’ve always used flaps 15, so that doesn’t change.”

“Alrighty then. Gauges in the green, flaps and trims set. Lights as appropriate.”

“Thanks again for doing this.” Celaeno reiterates as I get us to runway 1.

“Of course! Happy to show you. My maintenance team will be here to resolve any issues that might come up at the conclusion of all our test flights. That’s why I want you to make sure everything you want and need is on your gripe sheets.”

At the runway, I get the weather just in case we have a tailwind.

“Gusty Garden Airport information Romeo, 2048Z. Wind 350 at 6. Visibility 10. Sky clear below 12,000. Temperature -2, dewpoint -6, altimeter 30.01. All runways restricted access, prior permission required. Advise on initial contact you have information Romeo.”

Switch seats so I can communicate with ATC. Strobes, landing, pulse on. Autopilot armed. Runway heading checks.

Throttles set. Airspeed alive. Gauges in the green.

“80 knots?”

“Check.”

V1

Rotate.

V2

Positive rate, gear up.

Flaps up.

“Chicago departure, N685DA off Gusty Garden, 2,000 climbing 10,000. Request flight following for flight testing over Lake Michigan.”

“N685DA, Chicago departure, received. Radar contact 2 miles north Gusty Garden. Turn right heading 050, remain clear of O’Hare Class B.”

“Clear of the class Bravo, 050, 685DA. If able, can we get a block altitude?”

“N685DA, if you’d like, do you want a pop-up IFR instead?”

Celaeno nods.

“Affirm, 685DA.”

“N5DA, cleared to work over Lake Michigan within boundaries as follows. You ready to copy?”

“Affirm.”

“N685DA, your area is bounded by KUBBS intersection to Pullman – Papa-Mike-Mike, to Muskegon – Mike-Kilo-Golf, to Badger – Bravo-Alpha-Echo, to KUBBS. What block altitude do you request?”

“You choose. I can work with it.” Celaeno tells me.

“Uh, between 11,000 and FL240.” I then request from ATC.

“N685DA, standby.”

“5DA.”

“N5DA, cleared to work in the prescribed area from 15,000 to FL300, airspace necessary for departures off Chicago area airports.”

“Between 15,000 and FL300, N685DA.”

With that, I quickly program the pressurization system to 30,000 feet and the altitude bug armed at 15,000.

“N685DA, proceed direct PIVOT.”

“Direct PIVOT, 685DA.”

I then switch seats with the next crew member to take the right seat. The others then join me in the galley where already the airplane’s in-unit microwave is being put to use. Heating up water for coffee or hot choccy it looks like.

“Everything okay back here?”

Lix responds “no complaints here” on the others’ behalf.

As each crew member does their own little test for the airplane, I follow our position to make sure we’re within our boundaries. As each member moves between seats and takes turns, I monitor our fuel consumption. Though I know the fuel consumption goes way up for a plane like this, at much steeper scalars than other jets, she’s actually quite frugal today, though that may be due to the colder temps and virtually weightless payload, even if we’re all concentrated at the front.

Nevertheless, after about an hour, we return back and I go find the other ships for them. Surprise, surprise, I do a tail count and recall a nice little collection with the common tail suffix ‘Delta-Alpha (DA).’ There are eight of them available, and one of them has winglets, which is the one we just test flew.

After a whole day rinsing and repeating with seven other ships, all of which are winglet-less, our last flight touches down just as the sun sets and civil evening twilight begins.

After we park the airplanes for the night, Applejack climbs into bed with me and almost nervously cozies up to me.

“I don’t bite Applejack. Plus, you’ve been the big spoon before.”

“It’s not that. I’ve just been thinkin’ about some stuff.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

“Not right now. I appreciate it though.”

Eventually, she falls asleep, and out of respect for both her and stuff going through my mind, mostly about work, I try and fall asleep, to no avail. Instead, I gently get out of bed and head for the kitchen to get some water and run some numbers.

Thanks to the pandemic, my largest source of income isn’t the few hires I’ve gotten. If you’d believe it, it’s the revenue from airlines parking aircraft at all three airports. Worse still, of those that came in for storage, over half of them are not slated to return to service, meaning that their retirement is not only an inevitability, I’m basically relegated to buying them outright or funding/financing their replacements if there are any.

I know what you’re thinking, “how can someone like me be concerned about money?” The answer is simple. Other “ancillary” revenue has all but disappeared.

I don’t make money by hires or parking alone. I own a few companies, and in one case am a majority owner of the shop in Beverly Hills where Rarity and I met for the first time (the founder’s family/estate own the rest). Or the restaurants across Chicagoland that I catered when we all holidayed with Lockie and Melody. I also in collaboration with an enthusiast’s group and a small loan of one million dollars from my business in real estate revived the DeLorean Motor Company. I can’t reveal too much on that for legal reasons.

Brief history on DMC though: after the dissolution of most DeLorean owner’s clubs, only two remained in America. Humble (um-bull, silent H), just outside of Houston, and Huntington Beach, CA, just an hour (or two, traffic depending) from me. While not associated with the original company in the strict sense, there were always hopes amongst the fan base that production would “resume,” but due to various extenuating circumstances, plans got dashed, the company went up for sale, and I became the sole proprietor of DMC IP after the Huntington Beach chapter dissolved and the owner/founder of this incarnation (who ran the Humble club) passed away. I then moved the company out of Texas, where I had hoped to restart the company again in Chicago. After a few failed starts (which the original car was also famous for), the company was resurrected with our base of operations centered in a redeveloped part of the city, whose real estate I entirely control.

Thanks in small part to Chicago’s quarantine laws and out of an abundance of caution, I shuttered the factory and had to furlough about half the company, since our CBA and our internal workers union (to avoid arbitration) decided that furloughs would be more feasible than half-pay with rotating shifts. Same story in Beverly Hills. As Los Angeles County reels in their own issues with the pandemic, I made the executive decision to keep the brick-and-mortar boutique closed and focus all resources on online operations, which has been surprisingly good for a boutique operating by-appointment-only. The real estate business is pretty slow too, even as the market is slowly shifting to buyer’s. The restaurant business is now the one weathering this pandemic the best, but I’m not taking a salary there so employees and delivery drivers (in-house, as we have a catering branch) can maximize their time and avoid furlough, which thankfully has only been part-time workers.

Next morning, I return to bed just shy of 6 am after checking in with the crew. After asking for a frequency list, I get two jets started so they can go for test flights of their own. With nine out of ten present, and that tenth, per Celaeno’s word, available to start work soon, I offer to fill in for that tenth slot.

Eventually, four out of five are up and running, as Celaeno chooses not to fly, instead doing business numbers of her own. I decide to stay in the main residence and find some form of entertainment in the form of television, but alas, no interesting programmes, games, or even an old series to stream feel worth watching, so I look for Applejack.

Eventually, I find her busy on her phone, but she stops what she’s doing when I step in the room.

“Hey, Max. Ye bored?”

“Yeah. Nothing’s speaking to me right now. Four jets just went out for test flights, and I’m not really in the mood to boot up the old tower and its radars. It takes too long and wouldn’t even justify it anyway if all I’m going to do is monitor it.”

“Yeah… I could see why that would be a lot of work fer’ basically nothin’. There is… the other option.”

“And what would that be?” I respond, knowing exactly what she’s suggesting. To that, I walk up to her, pull her close, and kiss the top of her head.

With shades open and our viewing area best oriented towards the rest of the airport, Applejack and I cozy up to each other with a view fit for me, and admittedly only me.

“Now this… this feels right.”

“We’ve done this once before.”

“Yeah, but did you miss this?” She asks as she makes herself little spoon. “I missed this.”

“You were big spoon last time.”

“I wanted ta be the big spoon because you needed to feel safe. Now, you can return the favor.”

“Lucky for you, I prefer to be big spoon, but I don’t mind switching off.”

“Ye’r the best.” She coos before we share a quick peck on the lips.

Our time together is cut short however by the sudden whoosh of thrust reversers followed by a slowing jet rolling into view. Looks like all the test flights are back.

“Well, that’s unfortunate. We were just getting comfortable too.”

“I’ll keep it warm here ‘fer ya.”

When I return, I position the jets so that they can taxi out without a tow. Each of the four jets that took to air today are soon chocked upon request, indicating they’re done for the day.

“If you have anything to put on your gripe sheets, send them my way. Maintenance should be here soon to resolve any issues you might have.”

“Hi, I’m Gamora.” A lady says as she approaches me holding a sign at Los Angeles International.

“Hi, I’m Max. I’ll be your driver on Celaeno’s behalf as well as your pilot to get you to Illinois. I understand you two have worked together previously?”

“Yes we have. We used to fly ourselves bored across borders to deliver cargo and other, usually luxury, goods.”

“Runner?”

“What?”

“Runner. You know, something out of Breaking Bad or Dallas Buyers Club. Do you run that kind of cargo?”

“I wouldn’t know. I was only called to work when no one else was available.”

“I see. Well, I’m just assistance to your colleagues for now. As I am leasing my airplanes to them and providing them a base of operations, it’s all part of a package deal.”

“I hear you’re looking for work too?”

“From who’d you hear that?”

“Word gets around. And Rainbow Dash, by the way, she and I have a pretty good plan I know you’ll love.”

“I’m interested.” I reply with much intrigue, perfectly timed with me beaning the throttle to get onto the 405.

With maps and CarPlay guiding us to Celaeno’s provided address, we roll into a neighborhood that by some people’s accounts would be described as middle class, others maybe less so…

Anyway, I identify Celaeno by the multitude of boxes and things in her driveway along with her flagging us down, so to be quick, I pull over and park the wrong way round so we can load quickly.

Once we all rendezvous, we pack boxes in, but Celaeno grabs one thing before securing her house. She places it in the back with her and says,

“Your place.”

“Illinois now?”

“Yes.”

“Got it.”