4. New Kids on the Block
This is a work of fiction. All characters depicted are over the age of 18.
"The rules are pretty simple." Carter's PA, Sally Kershaw, explained. "You are to be available twenty-four-six, no drugs or alcohol during those times. For client or family flights, or as otherwise notified, you are to wear the uniform provided... white shirt with epaulettes and wings, name tags of course but no other badges or markings. Navy pants, polished shoes. For private, training or positioning flights, or just flying for fun, smart casual, jeans etcetera, no slogans on T-shirts. On the job, you are not to speak until spoken to. If given a greeting then by all means reply, but do not initiate any conversation. Now," Sally said, looking slightly uncomfortable, "when it comes to the family it might pay to have a thick skin. They can come across as a little abrasive at times and many drivers have had trouble adapting. It's nothing personal, it's just the way they perceive the world. The trick is not to take it to heart. Same goes for the lions-"
"Lions?" Mack frowned.
Sally nodded. "Lions. Heavy-hitters. The super-elites... you'll be told in advance who they are."
Mack bridled at the last few words and Wendy pinched his leg, unseen, hard enough to leave a bruise. As if reading the exchange, Sally shook her hair back. "You'll get used to it soon enough, and if you play nice the benefits are awesome. Believe me. Just think of them as a different species- the Carter family, the super-elites... and you'll be fine."
"Different species." Wendy said and gave a thumbs up. "Got it."
"That's the spirit. Oh... and on the subject of species... try and steer clear of household security. They call them the minders. Mrs Carter does all their hiring and firing and she tends to go for a certain type. Or should I say stereotype. Some of them can be, how to say, difficult."
"Difficult?" Mack asked, "Difficult how?"
Sally wrinkled her nose, wondering how best to spin it. "Mmm... living inside the pale and all, some of them get carried away."
"Inside the pale?"
"The inner perimeter. Where the family lives."
Wendy hefted a shoulder. "Won't worry me. They couldn't be any worse than some of the doctors I've worked with."
"I'll have to take your word for That. How about you, Travis? Think you can handle it?"
"Me? No problem, I used to be a Marine. Now, if you wanna talk about jumped-up petty authority."
"With guns."
"Of course with guns, I wouldn't have it any other way. Anyway, it's all about the flying at the end of the day. That's what I'll be focussed on."
Sally offered a knowing smile. "And that's why we hired you."
Silence settled over the gathering and Mack looked around the sidewalk café, as if noticing the surrounds for the very first time. Red checked tablecloths luffed in the breeze while pedestrians strolled by on the brick-paved sidewalk. A few patrons sat here and there but most were inside, seeking refuge from the cloying humidity. Cool as a cucumber in spite of the soaring heat, Sally sipped her coffee then licked her lips. "There was a movie once, where the main character found a pair of glasses. And looking through those glasses he saw another, parallel universe, co-existing with ours. Well... you guys are about to enter that universe. What you see and hear may seem hard to believe but let me tell you, it's all real. And what you'll experience is barely the tip of the iceberg. But, keep this in mind, entering this world is not to be taken lightly, and the consequences for transgression can be severe."
"Transgression?" Mack frowned.
"Telling tales out of school." Sally said blithely. "Revealing what you see and experience. Not that anyone will believe a word, but if you do, you will never work again. Anywhere. Ever."
"But it's just a job, right?" Wendy asked warily. "It's not like we're joining a cult or anything?"
Sally laughed, but Mack caught the merest flicker of irony in her eye. "Go to work, come home, four weeks annual leave. Pay-packets, medical insurance, 401-K. The usual stuff."
"And if we decide to leave?" Mack weighed in.
Sally shrugged. "One month's notice, as per the agreement, so we can find a replacement."
"Easy as that?"
"Why not?" Sally said then heaved a sigh. "Captain Mack, trust me, you're not gonna be selling your soul. I mean, who'd want it? But seriously. It's your talent and experience we're after. To be fair, if you don't enjoy flying, and a lot of drivers don't, this might not be the right gig for you. But from what I've heard..."
Wendy lay a hand on Mack's. "Miss. If you want a dyed-in-the-wool, natural-born aviator, Trav's your man."
"Of course," Sally said, "I agree, otherwise we wouldn't be having this conversation. Anyway, think it over."
"I have." Wendy said and Sally raised her hand.
"No," she said, "really. The hours are random and the schedule can be brutal-"
"Pfft!" Wendy scoffed. "You want brutal? I was a nurse, Sally."
"So I hear. But bear in mind. There are no weekends and no national holidays and when the family wants to fly you better be ready. You gotta think on your feet and roll with the punches and, above all, when the pressure's on you gotta stay calm. So go away and think about it first."
"I don't need to think about it." Wendy said, "I'm in."
"Thanks, Wendy, I appreciate your enthusiasm. But what about you, Travis? You haven't said much."
Mack rolled his shoulders. "Mmm... yeah... Ex-military. Rule one. Keep your mouth shut."
"That's what I figured. Just so you know, we have a list of applicants ten miles long but Mister Carter wants you fast-tracked. First time it's happened. So, if you can let us know by... say... tomorrow at 0900?"
Mack nodded. "That sounds more than fair."
"And, Miss Stamp, let's make it a job-lot. You can let me know together."
Rising, Sally smoothed her skirt and Mack's gaze took in her slim, shapely figure, the contour of her C-cups under a pinstriped business shirt. Scalpel sharp and beautiful, she was precisely the sort of woman who could be trusted with a multi-billionaire's affairs. Standing, Mack offered his hand and they shook. "No pressure," Sally smiled as Wendy got to her feet, "but I really do hope you come on board. You've got a nice vibe, the two of you, and good help is so hard to find."
"You never know your luck in the big city." Wendy beamed, shaking Sally's petite, manicured, scarlet-fingernailed hand. Their eyes met and Mack sensed the crackle of telepathy between the 2 young, attractive, devastatingly capable women, both good enough to eat but not to be fucked with.
Mack and Wendy took their seats, watching her walk away, eyes riveted to the jiggle of her gorgeous, firm ass. Wendy shook her head. "Can you imagine?"
"I'm doing my best not to." Mack said, "At least not here in public."
You know," Wendy said wistfully, "I'd like to throw that chick on her back, then cast those gorgeous legs aside..."
"You're not helping Wendy."
'Ny tongue's ge'ing 'tiff jus hinking abou it."
Mack looked around for a bucket of water. "Skippy! I mean it. What are we gonna do?"
"Well, I'll go down on her first, obviously, in case you-"
"Wendy!" Mack snapped. "Mind on the job. You gonna take it?"
Wendy stiffened. "The job? No fuckin' way. When I can be unemployed instead, and probably homeless into the bargain. I mean I'd LOVE to sit around outside the mall rattling a cup. Begging for change, raving incoherently at innocent passers-by."
"I'll take that as a 'yes'."
"Of course it's a yes, dummy. What about you? After our little heart-to-heart last night. You're gonna take it, surely?"
Mack compressed his lips. "You know, Wendy. Get yourself mixed up in a war and the whole world looks a little different. And you sort of lose your tolerance for bullshit. Like bowing and scraping to rich, indulgent, self-important motherfuckers who wouldn't last a minute in combat."
"Sally said nothing about bowing and scraping, Trav. In fact she said the opposite. Don't engage. You're just a chauffeur at the end of the day."
"Maybe." Mack said gloomily, head down, picking at his fingernails.
Wendy gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Mate, we have a saying back home, 'you'll never never know if you never never go. Besides, you don't want me haunting you, do you? Remember. If you don't take it, neither will I."
Mack looked at her, arching his eyebrows. "So it's blackmail, is it?"
Wendy shot Mack a cheeky grin. "Oh, blackmail's such an ikky word, Trav. Let's just call it incentive."
"Well, I'm still not convinced. Signing on with Carter might be out of the frying pan into the fire."
Wendy patted his hand. "Like I say, it won't hurt to give it a go."
"Maybe." Mack hedged, checking his watch. "What have you got on the rest of the day?"
Wendy shrugged. "Roll around in dogshit and find a nice possie outside the mall? There's some good coin to made but you gotta smell the part."
"Seriously. I'm gonna hit the pool and crank out a couple of kays. Wanna come with?"
"Hmm..." Wendy said, weighing the offer. "You know, a little dip wouldn't be bad."
"And I get to see you in your swim suit." Mack said, getting to his feet. "Win, win."
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Mack climbed into the back of an idling Uber. A quick search on goggle had rendered up the name of a bar in the city where offshore oil workers liked to meet. Before throwing his lot in with the billionaire driller, it seemed a little due diligence might be in order. Intel gathering. And what better venue than one more or less guaranteed to loosen some tongues?
Bright lights and a voluble crowd. Passing through security with a nod, Mack found himself in a dim, spacious barroom boasting a nautical theme, with lots of hewn wood and shiny brass fittings. Pulling up a stool behind the long, polished bar, he propped his forearms on top and sat waiting to catch the bargirl's eye. By and by a pair of gravity-defying breasts strolled over, attached to a strapping bottle-blonde. "Evening, handsome, what can I get you?"
"Gin on ice." Mack told the beautiful bouncing twins. "Make it a double."
"Not sure I've seen you in here before." the bargirl said, measuring the shots then adding a splash just to be friendly.
"Not in here, no." Mack said then raised his drink. "Well, here's to you."
And those gorgeous lumps of glandular tissue.
"You in offshore?"
"Me?" Mack asked. "Not as such, no."
The bargirl checked quickly for eavesdroppers. "Look, Mister. We welcome anybody in here, but some of the guys... well... I guess they can get a little territorial. See, this here's a rig workers' watering hole. They work hard and they value their downtime."
