Authors note: After a multitude of requests, here is chapter 2 of Air Charter. I'm not sure if a chapter 3 will be coming or not. I may choose to leave what happens next to your imagination. Or I might not.
*****
In some ways it wasn't quite fair. I mean I've never been one to be deceitful, but in this case it seemed like the right thing to do. Kim was waiting at the cabin and my job was to get Amy there without any argument.
"Adam! What's' going on? Your phone call was more than a little bit cryptic," Amy asked as she practically ran across the tarmac at the Chicago Dupage County Airport, pulling the wheeled suitcase behind her.
"Oh. Kim is having an absolute fit. She's demanding that you come at once and refusing to come home until you come get her," I said with a scowl. "You so owe me for screwing up my vacation!" I said pretending to be angry as I took the case from her and stuffed it into the hold under the cabin of my twin engine turbo prop. Truth be told I'd had a bit of a crush on Amy since I started flying her and Kim around the country. I'd of course told her about it, sorta, but been shut down cold every time I'd tried to entice her into anything personal.
As Kim had told me, Amy was the perfect professional personal assistant. She was a whiz at keeping her schedule in order, able to handle a myriad of details without bothering Kim and in some cases, was as adept at running the lingerie business every bit as good as Kim. The only real difference was that Amy wasn't a super model. In her own right she was good looking. Five and a half feet, not skinny but not fat, modestly large chest, creamy white skin and short cut auburn hair. To me she looked damn sexy, no matter what she was wearing. Today, in a tight fitting, short skirted dress, she looked even more so.
I followed her up the stairs to the plane, closing the stairway door just in time to watch her bend over and thread her way into the right hand co-pilots seat of the plane, her skirt pulling up far enough to show me that she had on pink lacy panties under the powder blue dress.
"I'm so sorry. I know I pushed you to take her. I'll make it up to you somehow," she said as I stepped over the center console and settled into the left seat. I handed her a pair of bulky headphones with a microphone attached and then picked up my own somewhat slimmer designed headset and mic. I remained silent as I flipped through the startup procedure, spinning both turbines up before keying the microphone.
"Dupage tower. X-ray Alpha Gulf Foxtrot Seven ready for departure."
"Roger X-ray Alpha Gulf. You are cleared to taxiway W William to Runway 2 Left. Hold at the ramp."
"Roger. Taxiway W William to 2 Left and hold," I answered as I throttled up, the only aircraft at the moment on the tarmac with an engine running. In moments we were bouncing along the narrow strip of pavement that would take us all the way south to the very end of the seventy-five hundred foot runway. It was well more than we'd need with the light load I had on board, but I wasn't going to complain. I stopped just before reaching the end of the runway and checked both engines and props, making sure everything was working properly before radioing the tower back. "Dupage tower. X-ray Alpha Gulf holding at two Left."
"Roger X-ray Alpha Gulf, you are cleared onto the runway. Depart turning left and contact Chicago flight following at five thousand."
"Roger that tower. X-ray Alpha Gulf rolling," I answered. Taking off from a smaller airport like this one was always more relaxing than trying to fight the big boys at someplace like O'Hare or Midway. I let off the brakes and rolled onto the end of the runway, turning the plane to line up down the center line before pushing the throttles full on.
"So how long?" Amy asked over the headset as the plane launched itself up from the pavement and I snapped the landing gear handle into the stow position.
"About four hours," I answered, letting my voice soften, no longer having to maintain the fiction that I used to get her here and on the plane. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the note that Kim had written for her, a note I wasn't supposed to give to her until we were in the air.
"What's this?"
"A note from Kim," I answered.
"What's it say?"
"I dunno. She told me not to read it," I answered with a shrug. "Chicago center, X-ray Alpha Gulf Foxtrot Seven climbing to fifteen thousand."
"Roger X-ray Alpha Gulf Foxtrot Seven. Climbing to fifteen thousand."
"And you didn't? Read it I mean?" she asked as she unfolded the paper.
"Nope. I guessed it wasn't my business. I'm just following orders to get you on the plane and get you there anyway I can."
Amy frowned and looked down at the note, reading it slowly. She flipped the paper over and back again, as if looking for more information.
"And you have no idea what this is about?"
"All I know is that I have specific orders from her highness to fetch you. She said everything else you needed to know was in the note."
"But it doesn't tell me all that much."
"Well, she was adamant. She wasn't coming home until you got there. I couldn't very well leave her there forever, could I?"
"Well, no. But what triggered this? I mean did you do anything to her?"
"Besides throw her ass in the lake the first day? Not really," I answered.
"You really threw her in the lake?"
"Yep. Picked her up, hauled her ass over my shoulder to the end of the pier and threw her right into the water. She was none too happy about it either."
"I don't imagine she was," Amy answered quietly.
"All I know is she wanted you to follow the directions in the note. I have no idea what it is, but as long as it doesn't crash the plane, I'd say it'd be best to do them. I mean you know how damn irritating she can get when her suggestions aren't followed."
"Suggestions? Is that what you call em?"
"She thinks they're suggestions." I chuckled.
"She does?"
"Yeah."
"So. In the last three days, you two have, what? Chatted?"
"Well, there isn't all that much to do up there if you don't fish or hike, and you know how much she loves the outdoors."
"Yeah. Sometimes I wonder if she'd even go outside at all if she could avoid it."
"I understand. So what's the note say?"
"Just some personal stuff."
"Personal stuff?"
"Yeah. You know. Personal stuff."
"Okay. So that personal stuff made me fly all the way back to Chicago, not counting the nearly two hours of a rough Jeep ride down the mountain and back up. I'd kinda like to know what kind of personal stuff was so important."