One Month of Chuck Steve an Alternative ScenarioChapter 19
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One Month Of Chuck & Steve - An Alternative ScenarioChapter 26 free porn video
CHUCK – The Junction and Los Angeles
When I woke up, I had to think for a second to figure out where I was, and what I had to do today. I didn't feel right, so I got up, had a quick shower, put my sports leg on, and went to visit the workout room. I felt human again after half an hour, so I went back to my room, did the three Ss, and went down for breakfast where I met Steve.
"After we've met the Vice President, what do you have to do in LA?" Steve asked. "What can I do to help?"
I gathered my thoughts.
"I'm meeting the FAA people with Carlos at 1430," I began. "It would be nice if you were there, and I sent a message to Pete Williams that I'd like him to be there too. He'll fly with us over to LAWest as soon as the VP leaves.
"Then the Tour Operators are coming at 1530; I don't know what that's about, but we've had hints that they may want to extend our joint operations. Remember that we run the Cancun trips for them. Dewey is being picked up from The Junction first thing, but I bet he'll want to delay his departure and watch the displays the military is bound to be putting on. I have to admit that I'm looking forward to that too
"But maybe the most important thing I've got to do today is to sort out a security problem at LAWest. The management company's chief executive isn't being cooperative and the FBI's LA station thinks he's sitting back and taking kickbacks. That's a worry, because my gut tells me that Halcyon might develop in a way that we'll be forced to keep a major base in LA, rather than transferring most of the operation to The Junction as I planned."
The others arrived for breakfast before we finished, and Sue announced that she was going to take advantage of a morning in Vegas to go visit a clothing manufacturer in the City; they had just imported a new line of sewing machines from China and she wanted to see them in action. Mercy said that she'd go with her.
Jimmy and Joy were coming with us, and both said that they wanted to hear how Jack Smith's plans were progressing. As it happened, Jack and the owner of
Independent Aircraft Maintenance Services at McCarran International, Bertie Green, and Kurt were waiting for us when our 737 taxied up to the tower and was parked next to The Junction's G550s. There were only two of them. Seeing me looking, Kurt explained.
"Our new Charter Manager, Jesse Harcourt has already got two of the Gulfstreams and one Lear out on charter. He's also arranged leases for two of the Airbuses on Monday; that's really good news."
What he said was nearly drowned out because a Globemaster roared overhead at that moment.
"They are now flying in the main elements of the Naval Mobile Construction Battalion Four," he explained, when we got inside the admin building's main door. "The 437th flew in the 102 men of the Seabee's Air Detachment last night, and they are now ferrying in all the Battalion's equipment except, according to Col. Hegarty, they are leaving behind the well-boring machines and the kitchen sink. I'm told that they are already well on the way to preparing the foundations for the new Training Base, and are expecting the arrival of the first concrete trucks which will enable them to start pouring the pads for the buildings. The National Guard is deploying their 1864th Transportation Company, which is equipped with medium-sized trucks to bring in all the other materials.
"Anyway, Chuck, can I please introduce Bertie Green? Steve's already met him.
"Jack wants to buy I.A.M.S, and hire Bertie as his number two. We should be in a position to finalize the deal later today."
Jimmy and Joy were already talking to the two aircraft engineers, and they walked off as the first of our guests was ushered in by a man who Steve introduced as Rupert Harcourt, one of our new senior charter pilots. (We'd taken over his company, Steve explained in an aside.)
Rupert was escorting a lady in an Army two-star General's uniform.
Steve knew her too, and I met the Adjutant-General of the Nevada National Guard, Major General Martha Macklin. But before we could do more than exchange the time of day, Major General Jason Haskins arrived, almost rubbing his hands together with pleasure as he told us that he was expecting five separate Honor Guards for the Vice President, including one from our own Guard Force.
"But I wanted a word with you, Steve," he continued, "Thank you for sending those S&S combat demonstrator vehicles to Fort Bragg. My engineers have already done some parachute drop tests with them, and I've arranged for two of them to be brought here so they can be demonstrated in this show we are putting on for the top brass. I'm told that you've done some really effective firing tests with them in Florida; would you mind if we shot one up for the Vice President to see?"
I think Steve was taken back, but he agreed.
We went back outside to watch the troops who were to forming up into the various Honor Guards.
First were 100 paratroopers in their dress uniforms with gleaming helmets. Next to them were 30 Seabees of the advance party in full combat dress, including their weapons. Beyond them were 30 airmen in their everyday flightsuits or fatigues; they were a mixed lot of aircrew, loadmasters, and other personnel from the 437th.
Gen. Macklin took a step forward with a proud expression on her face. I understood why when I saw Jamie Wilson's second in command, with 30 men from her Nevada National Guard 72nd Military Police Company. They had four of their S&S combat vehicles drawn up behind them.
I hadn't noticed Buster's 737 land, but at that moment a 30 strong platoon of our own CS&S Guard Force marched by us on their way to form up on the right beyond the MPs. Colin had done a good job, as these former Marines drilled with a "snap" that I'd rarely seen when I was in the Corps. "Semper Fi," I muttered. Mac was lining up four more S&S combat vehicles behind them, all painted in our smart dark green Guard Force insignias.
Steve nudged me, and we shook hands, grinning.
A C-37 landed at 0950, closely followed by Air Force Two.
The first had brought two senior Generals and some of their staff. They were greeted by Gen. Haskins, and he introduced them to us as Gen. McCormick, the four-star Commander of something called FORESCOM, and Lt. Gen. Smith, who commanded the XVIII Airborne Corps; in other words Jason's immediate boss. (I later learned that General McCormick commanded all the Army's active combat divisions; both Generals were here from their Headquarters at Fort Bragg.)
But Air Force Two had now come to a halt in front of us (good management, Jason) and Joe Biden, the Vice President was soon trotting down the stairs, followed more sedately by a Four-Star Admiral.
After quickly greeting Jason, Joe shook my hand in both of his.
"Hi, Chuck," he said, with a broad grin, "Nice to meet with you again."
He turned to Steve.
"And this must be the famous Steve Sharp," he shook Steve's hand too, as he turned to the Admiral behind him.
"Meet Admiral Drinkwater," he said. "He's the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, you know. We were talking in the Oval Office yesterday, and when he heard that I was planning on coming here today, he asked if he could come too."
The VP and the Admiral moved off to inspect the Honor Guards, accompanied by Jason Haskins who was acting as the host, but he made sure that Steve and I came close behind, followed by the other Generals. Joe Biden talked to a number of the officers and men, and singled out two of the Seabees when he noticed their Purple Hearts. He spent more time with our Guard Force, and the Admiral congratulated Colin, who was commanding the platoon on their smartness and bearing. He knew Marines when he saw them.
Someone must have pressed a button when we turned at the end of the line. All flying had been suspended during the inspection, but now there was a roar as a formation of F-16s from the Air Force's Thunderbirds Demonstration Squadron based at Nellis AFB here in Vegas started their display. It was certainly impressive, and when they had finished, we were all loaded on to Black Hawks, and ferried out the USAF's Nevada Test and Training Ranges, to watch a display that I was told was a variation of the one previously put on for the Secretary of Defense.
Three C-17s first dropped about a company of paratroopers, followed by more C-17s that dropped a selection of the 82nd Airborne's equipment.
We were then treated to a firepower demonstration from various types of weapons, followed by some Apache gunships showing off their devastating weaponry.
Finally, another C-17 flew over and dropped two of Steve's Composite Combat ATVs. Their crews dropped after them, quickly cleared the drop gear away, and drove the two vehicles over to a position in front of where we were sitting, about 250 yards away. I understood why when all the guns we'd seen earlier opened fire on the vehicles, one after another. To show that they were still fully operative, the crews who had remained inside during the firing drove around in a circle, then re-parked. It was the Apache's turn next, but they only damaged two tires which were quickly changed; the same result occurred when the vehicles were driven along a track setting off some simulated IEDs. After this, the vehicles were brought back and positioned in front of us again, but this time the crews climbed out and lay down in some trenches well off to the side. We understood why when suddenly a pair of F-15E Strike Fighters from Nellis screamed in and attacked one of the ATVs, first using their 20 mm cannon, and following with rockets.
When the smoke cleared, we watched the crew return to their vehicle, open a door, bring out new wheels, quickly mount them, then drove the two vehicles over in front of us where Jason Haskins invited us all to examine the damage. The paint was a mess, but other than a few blisters, they were virtually untouched. Clearly, although a crew that had been inside one during such an attack would surely have a concussion, they would certainly still be alive. They apparently first used the older M-56, as well as the PGU-28 ammunition.
Steve stood back and watched with a rather satisfied look on his face. He quietly explained that the vehicle that the aircraft had attacked was a new Mark II with an increased armor thickness.
The whole demonstration was clearly a great success.
When we returned to The Junction, it was obvious that the Seabee fly-in was virtually complete and the Admiral was asked by Commander Goodman, their Commander, to go see their activities. I was interested to see that they had Terrell with them too.
Joe Biden insisted that Steve and I first showed him around our facilities. Jason Haskins accompanied us, while the other Generals were taken away by Brian Buxton.
The VP walked around all the buildings, talking to people everywhere. He looked inside a training Cessna, talked to the airmen with the Fire and Crash rigs, then asked to see over one of the monster Airbus A380s. Before Jason took him to meet the other military personnel, he talked to Steve and me, saying how happy he was that we were as prepared for terrorist attacks as we could be. Finally, he was introduced to Buster and Mac, and while congratulating them on what they had achieved, he called them Mouse and Red Dog. The looks on their faces were quite priceless, and Joe departed with a happy grin on his face.
The VP and the Admiral spent another hour at The Junction, and left after what had to be a really successful three and a half hour visit. The Generals stayed through the afternoon, but we left for LA as soon as the girls returned, taking Pete Williams with us.
As soon as we landed at LAWest, Carlos, our local general manager, called my cell to say that he was at the Halcyon offices by the aircraft hangars, with the security team leader, Silvio Bargoni. They needed to talk to me.
When we entered Carlos' office, which had wide picture windows, giving a panoramic view across the whole airport, Silvio had moved a chair over so that he could watch the hangar over to the left.
After introducing Silvio to Steve and shaking hands with Carlos, I asked him to report.
"Security here is a joke," he began. "Oh, the side the public sees works well, like the passenger check-in areas, but otherwise, anyone can get in anywhere. Although I've only been here for three days, I've already made some useful contacts, and I'm told in confidence that the security company regards their airport contract as a mega earner; they only spend the minimum amount of money they can get away with here. For example, there is supposed to be a security man on every hangar 24/7, but there aren't any. As I said, I'm satisfied with the check-in area, but once the baggage leaves there, anyone can get at it. I understand that you ordered Mac to visit here, but he couldn't leave The Junction, so he arranged for your "other employer" to send an agent. That man reported that the baggage scanner wasn't working when he was here. It is now, but that's only because we, as 'airline security' watch every plane of ours being loaded and they know that if it's not properly done, that aircraft will not take off. Two of my team, John and Stuart, are watching this morning's Cancun flight loading as we speak, while Vernon is watching the other hangar."
I remembered that this team, No 5, was composed of gay men; this was turning out to be a lucky accident, as Silvio had obviously already been making some useful contacts.
"What else can you tell us?" I asked.
"This whole airport appears to be so badly run that it's only a hiccup away from completely breaking down," Silvio answered. "The management company CEO, Wallace Healey, sits in his front office and doesn't do anything. Mac's agent and the FBI went to see him to protest the poor security here. He promised changes, but nothing's been done. The Operations Manager, a really efficient German called Helmut Schmitt, keeps the place running but he's said to have ulcers and people worry what will happen if he goes.
"To sum up, the place is an absolute mess."
I thought for a minute, then picked up the phone and asked to be connected to Mr. Healey. When a woman answered, I identified myself as the owner of Halcyon Airways, and asked to be put through.
"Mr. Healey is not expected in until later this afternoon, you say?" I asked. "Please have me connected to Mr. Schmitt."
There was a pause.
"Schmitt."
"Good Morning. My name is Chuck Johnson, and I am the owner of Halcyon Airways. I have a security problem. I've tried to talk to your CEO, but I'm informed that he is not in until later today. I regret that I cannot come over to talk to you in person, as I have a meeting here with some senior FAA officials starting in half an hour. One of my people accompanied by the Los Angeles FBI Special Agent-In-Charge recently visited with Mr. Healey to discuss the poor security here at the airport, but I'm told that nothing has happened despite Mr. Healey's promises. You are contractually obliged to provide security men for both my hangars, and unless they appear in the next 15 minutes, I will be starting legal action."
"I'm sorry," Schmitt replied, "I was not informed. Let me see what I can do."
"Well," I remarked as I put the phone down. "Let's hope that we get some action; but Silvio, please make sure that you keep me informed about what's happening."
As the security team leader left, I asked Carlos if he had anything else for me to do.
"The FAA men will be here shortly," he told me. "I got a call from Gerald Hanning yesterday. He is the senior FAA man here in LA whom you met when you bought the company. You will also remember his assistant Alfred Williams, but they are also bringing along a big cheese from Frisco with them. He is Burton Bishop, and Gerald says he is the FAA Assistant Director responsible for all West Coast operations."
"Is there anything else that I should know about?" I asked him. "This meeting is turning out to be a higher level affair than I had expected."
Pete Williams, who had just come in, answered for him.
"I was hoping to hear more about what our chances are of getting licenses for the proposed Reno shuttle, but I gather that they want to talk about West Coast operations in general."
Right on time, a car drew up outside the main door, and the three FAA men were ushered into Carlos' office.
Mr. Bishop was introduced to everyone, but it turned out that he had known Pete for years. The other two enthusiastically greeted Steve and I.
When they were seated and had refused coffee, Burton Bishop opened the meeting.
"Thank you for seeing us, Chuck," he grinned, "You have become a very busy man. I heard about you buying into WashingtonAir, and I had a phone call a couple of days ago from a civic dignitary up in Seattle wanting to know if you were a responsible person to run the airport up at Tacoma Narrows. Did you do any more deals while you were over in Hawaii?"
Amid grins from my associates, I had to admit that I'd bought two more airlines; Diamond Head and Haleiwa Air Cargo.
Burton smiled; it seemed that he knew about these too, and continued.
"We need to discuss the probable expansion of Halcyon, your other operations in California, and the West Coast generally, and last but not least, the problems at the airport here.
"As regards Halcyon," Burton continued, "I think you are aware how pleased we were at the smooth takeover. I'm afraid you may be called in sooner or later to help with another local feeder line where the management is at loggerheads with one another, and the aircraft lessors are getting so fed up that they may foreclose. But that is for another day. You have another meeting later today, and I want to say that if you decide to extend your tour operations to Acapulco, we will support you in that. However, there is a small outstanding matter of unused licenses for services to some cities in neighboring states; specifically Salt Lake, Albuquerque, and Phoenix?"
Carlos quickly jumped in.
"We are grateful for your Agency's patience in that matter," he told them. "Services to those three destinations will start next week, thanks to Chuck, my boss, who is supplying the necessary aircraft."
"Good," Burton replied, smiling. "Have you considered starting a joint operation with WashingtonAir, the object being to provide a competitive service on the West Coast between LA, Frisco, Seattle, and Vancouver? The Canadian authorities agree with me that this is desirable, and the licenses will be issued if you decide to start that service."
I stepped in before Carlos and Pete could recover from their shock.
"Thank you for that interesting suggestion. I shall be asking Pete to investigate how our West Coast interests can cooperate more closely, and this is certainly a matter worth fully going into. Maybe he can talk to Gerald during his next visit to LA?"
"Excellent," Burton beamed. "Now, I understand that Pete is anxious to duplicate his popular LA to Vegas shuttle service between San Francisco and Reno?"
"Yes," Pete nodded.
"Fine, we have no objections, so if you would like to submit the formal applications, we will get the permissions taken care of.
"Now to a much more difficult problem; how to solve the management and more specifically, the security problems at this airport."
I winced.
"I couldn't get hold of Wallace Healey this morning," I told them. "Our contracts provide for security guards to be stationed at each of our hangars here, but I had to threaten legal action before I got a single guard. Are you aware that the baggage scanning equipment is very suspect?"
"No. I agree that's serious, but it is symptomatic of everything here, in my opinion. I believe the problem lies with the shareholders in the management company. A company named Murchisons holds about 46%, and the rest of the shares are scattered around in small packets, although I think one or two of the companies that use the airport may have small individual interests, but are unable to influence matters. Murchisons was a dynamic company once upon a time; a real conglomerate, but the present management has, I believe, given up on being able to get more dividends out of this investment. Meanwhile, Mr. Healey can do just about whatever he likes, which, I'm sorry to say means doing nothing.
"Well, thank you all for your time. This has been a most helpful meeting, and I look forward to cooperating with you in the future."
After shaking hands with everyone, the three FAA men left.
"What on earth did he mean by all that talk at the end?" Carlos wondered.
I didn't reply, but brought my cell out, and pushed a quick dial button.
"Hello, Ben?" I began, "I need you to do something for me. Yes, we'll be home tomorrow, but this one won't wait. I'm told that a conglomerate called Murchisons here in LA owns 46% of the company that manages the LAWest Airport from where Halcyon operates. Can you see it you can buy those shares for me? I understand they are not happy at the poor return on their investment, and might be open to a silly offer. Thanks, Ben, see you at the patio tomorrow."
Carlos exchanged looks with Pete, while Steve, who had been very quiet during the meeting, grinned and gave me a thumbs up.
"So that's what the man meant." Carlos said, with a smile.
I did manage to see Silvio before our next meeting started, and he reported that Schmitt had called to apologize because he had only managed to find a single security guard for our hangars.
I thought that it was fortunate that we had Carlos as GM of Halcyon, because all three of the tour company executives turned out to be Latinos like him. The CEO of the local company was Pablo Fernandez; his operations manager was a lady, Conchita Valdez, while the third was Luis de Almansa, who was introduced as the CEO of their parent company in Dallas.
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