Wings of Steele - Destination Unknown (Book 1) by Jeffrey Burger Page B

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additional birds to your location."
    "Roger,
STC, Blue One out."
    The
old warbird looked rather majestic, flying through the clouds below.
"Damn, Pappy, that thing's in beautiful shape. She looks brand
new."
    Smiley
had noticed that too and for some reason that seemed odd and out
of sync with the circumstances. He looked at the mountainous clouds
looming in the distance, and the heading they were on. "Mad
Dog, we want to corral these folks before we reach that weather out
there."
    "Roger,
Pappy. Just tell me what you need me to do."
    "Ok
kid, hang on my port-stern quarter and keep an eye on that gun turret.
If it moves give me a shout, then get the hell outta' the way."
    "Roger,
Pappy... by the way, I'm getting some real distortion on my radar.
How's yours?"
    Smiley
looked down and the picture was so distorted he couldn't read
it. "Yeah, mine too. Must be coming from that weather out
there. Let's corral these people and get the hell outta' here.
Follow my lead kid." He proceeded to search for the radio
frequency being used by the B25 as he eased up alongside her.

    ■ ■ ■

    "Jack,
look at the gauges," Brian's voice was calm, if not a bit curious.
Jack switched his gaze to the dash to see the gauges doing strange
things indeed. The closer to the storm front they got, the crazier
the electronics and instruments behaved.
    Jack's
eyes widened. "I've got an idea, it just might work too." Brian
had a strange feeling he wasn't going to like this, in fact, he was
almost positive.
    Fritz
distracted the pilot before he could speak. The Shepherd was obviously agitated, excited even, standing with his front paws on
Jack's thigh to see out the window, fidgeting and whining. The pilot
ran his hand across the dog's head, rubbing his ears, trying to keep
him calm. The Shepherd, enjoying the attention, remained still.
"See? Even he feels it."
    Brian,
who had been watching the dog, looked past him out over the port
wing. "We've got company," he pointed calmly. Jack looked
left to see a Navy F18 Hornet, barely fifty feet off the Sweet
Susie's left wingtip. Above and to the left of him was yet another
F18.
    "Christ,
he's got missiles," muttered Jack. The pilot of
the closest F18 gave a wave, then in sign language conveyed to Jack
that he wanted their radio frequency. Jack glanced ahead to the
looming storm front, trying to gauge their closing speed. Steele
held up fingers for numbers. "I gotta' stall," he told
Brian and Maria, who was kneeling next to Fritz. "That front's
our only chance."
    "I
was afraid he was going to say that," groaned Brian.
    The
fighter pilot found the frequency and amidst the noise and interference,
identified himself to the crew of the B25. "Hello B25, can you
hear me?"
    Jack
keyed the mic, "Yes I can, what can I do for you?" His voice
was friendly and calm. He glanced at the horizon, they were so
close. Stall... stall ,
he thought. His body tingled all over, although quite a unique
feeling it was somehow familiar - he tried to put it out of his
mind.
    "I'm
Lieutenant Commander Paul Smiley, United States Navy..." he
pointed to
the other F18, "that's my wingman, Lieutenant Mike Warren. We
are off the aircraft carrier Shenandoah and have orders to escort
you back to San Juan airport." The pilot's slow, calm voice,
with its hint of southern accent, made it an almost appealing
proposition. Jack could tell this man was a true professional,
completely comfortable and confident. He could also see the row of
victory badges painted on the fuselage under the cockpit canopy.
This was a man who could seriously ruin your day, if so inclined.
Commander Smiley continued, "I will ask you to totally comply
with my instructions, if you attempt to evade or take any hostile
action, we will shoot you down. Do you understand?"
    Jack's
mind was racing. "Yes, Commander..." stall, he thought. "Commander,
I have just one problem..." the three planes entered the
fringes of the weather front and visibility was closing in rapidly,
"I don't