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Romance: Another country heard from:3.
"Colonel?" The intercom had buzzed and the Command Chief Master Sergeant spoke.
"Yes, Tom?"
"Sir. We have an incident."
The door to the colonel's office buzzed and the CCMS stepped into the Base Commander's office. He stepped around the room and closed the infrared and sound canceling curtains. The colonel switched on the white noise.
"As you know, Sir, there are always combat ready aircraft in the air at all times. They carry the weapon."
The colonel nodded.
The CCMS referred to the clipboard he was carrying. "Flight 7 dash 69 had the duty. They remained on station over the CONUS for their assigned 24. The refueling flight was McGee-Tyson ANG scheduled for yesterday at 1400. Flight 7 dash 69 never rendezvoused with the KC-97L
"The KC-97L carries a crew of six. They are the aircraft commander, copilot, navigator, flight engineer, radio operator and boom operator. The KC-97L has a capacity of 9,000 gal of jet fuel. Radar from three stations show the tanker as on time, loitering three hours past the prescribed time of rendezvous.
"Flight 7-69 is a Boeing B-52H out of Barksdale. 7-69 is one of the SAC 'holdout bombers' held back for National Security when the SAC fleet was ordered to support the Vietnam Conflict. It carries 70 thousand pounds of various weaponry. Including at least seven nuclear devices.
"As per orders, the aircraft pursued 'nap of the earth' tactics. There have been similar aircraft aloft since 1956 ... not without unofficial incident. The craft all have a double crew. They did not rendezvous. Information was withheld until the aircraft was officially out of fuel. This is to give the crew time to repair unforeseen circumstances. The aircraft is officially Missing.
"The loiter area is within the continental United States.
"The area has few inhabitants.
"In this particular case, the Appalachian mountains of Kentucky.
"This ends the official report."
The Command Chief Master Sergeant ripped the briefing paperwork off the clipboard, dumped the Colonel's wastepaper basket, lit a match and set the briefing on fire. The flaming pages burned thoroughly.
"Have a seat Tom."
Tom sat.
"What's the skinny?"
"There has been a civilian aircraft in the area. There are no flying fields and therefore, no control tower singular or plural. No notice, no communication ... just flying. Sir, it looks like lessons. They fly, land at an old coal mine, fuel up and fly."
"What kind of plane?"
"From the numbers, a Cessna 140A Patroller, a 1951 model. Returned to Cessna in 1953 by rail, re-skinned, re-titled as a 1954 and flown to Texas and the pipeline company that owned it. It flew out over the Gulf in 1967 and never came back. It was written off and the craft presumed lost. The title was with the aircraft. The aircraft owner is unknown."
"Well ... bring them in."
"Yes, Sir." Tom asked. "Where do you want them?"
"What's close we control?"
"McGhee-Tyson ANG, Knoxville Tennessee is closest and it has a large private operator base."
"Fitting ... maybe the KC 97 crew saw them."
"We'll get right on it, Sir."
"Quietly, Tom. Quietly. We've never had a nuclear incident in the United States..." He chuckled, " ... and we never will."
Tom rolled his eyes and left ... chuckling.
He called his number 2 and 'suggested' a training flight for wanna be pilots. A flight of four Tweets left, headed south, in minutes.
There isn't another airfield, or landing field or abandoned airbase closer than a hundred miles ... why is my sky suddenly covered up with aggressive military aircraft? John thought as the second very close pass bye "Tweet" rocked his world ... and not in a good way.
The next plane thundered up and nearly stalled out of the sky. The passenger ... assume command pilot ... held up a make-shift sign with a radio frequency written on it.
He switched over.
"Civilian aircraft. Pursuant to Title 14 FAA REGS. Assume heading 225 degrees. Distance 200 miles."
"Destination?"
"McGhee-Tyson ANG."
"On the way."
"Have you sufficient fuel?"
"Yes."
"Cease all further communication."
One hundred horses from the replacement O-200 engine is still only good for 105MPH cruise ... just like the C-85. Jack imagined the "Tweet" was having a hard time staying up ... Stall speed is 98mph. Jack and Sultry kept getting passed like Parnelli Jones passing Grannie Slowpoke.
"This is boring," said Sultry.
"What did you expect?"
"Cutting cookies in the sky."
"Real point to point flying is boring as all get out."
"You're telling me?"
"Welcome to the real world."
"What do our escorts want?"
"Us."
"Why?"
"No idea," Jack said, "But when the military tells you to do something ... do it."
"Why?"
"Because a simple brush of one of those wings and we're down there ... and up here is good."
"Down there is bad."
"You got it."
"What would happen to their plane?"
"Nothing ... their wings are much stronger. Probably wouldn't even show a scratch."
"What if we lived?"
"The rescue team is Air Force."
"Oh."
McGhee-Tyson is wide, flat and long. The Air National Guard is a different place. Six or seven KC-97's ... fat B-29's.
A T-37 wagged its wings, the pilot pointed, first at him and held up one finger. Then he pointed at Jack and held up two fingers. Jack nodded. We circled back to the 23R end of the 5L-23R runway.
The "Tweet" landed. A decent and safe interval and Jack landed. The figure in the back of the Jeep held up the regulation "FOLLOW ME" sign. He did.
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