Back to Brett’s reality.
The hotel room was dark.
Brett shot up in the bed. His face was sweaty. Fear grew in his eyes, and then he clutched his chest. “Ahhh!” he cried out in pain.
Brett buckled over, fell out of bed, slammed onto the floor, rolled around in pain, and then stopped. “What the hell just happened?” he worried, slowly getting to his feet. “The pain’s suddenly gone,” he said, feeling his chest.
Brett got back in bed and closed his eyes. “I need that dream to return,” he prayed. “Who shot me?”
It was Sunday morning, and Brett’s alarm blared at 7:00 a.m. He woke up and glanced around the room in a daze.
“Damn, that dream didn’t return,” he said, sitting up in bed. “Was Meredith shot?” he wondered.
Brett got out of bed and walked into the bathroom.
In the hotel lobby, Howard walked out of the bathroom, headed to the exit door, and then went out to his Cadillac.
Brett got inside and spied on the hotel’s front doors.
After doing his regular morning bathroom routine, Brett left the hotel.
“He’s leaving the hotel,” Howard jotted in his notebook, glancing at his watch.
Brett got behind the Fairmont and drove out of the parking lot.
Howard pulled out of a parking spot in his white 2007 Cadillac CTS and followed Brett’s Fairmont.
Brett drove his Fairmont down the street. The Cadillac followed a safe distance behind.
Brett parked his Fairmont in the parking lot of the Dimitris Family Restaurant.
Howard parked his Cadillac in the lot, grabbed his newspaper, put on sunglasses, and put on his Fedora hat.
Howard left his Cadillac and entered the restaurant with his folded newspaper.
Brett sat alone at a table.
Howard got a table at the far end of the restaurant.
Brett ordered breakfast and coffee.
Howard ordered coffee, then removed his notebook and pen from his suit pocket. “He’s eating breakfast at the Dimitris Family Restaurant,” he jotted in this notebook, glancing at his watch. Howard opened his newspaper, folded it, peeked over the top, spied on Brett, and kept his sunglasses on.
Forty minutes passed, and breakfast was over.
Brett left Dimitris in his Fairmont and drove east on State Road 46 into Columbus.
Howard followed with his Cadillac. “He’s leaving the restaurant,” Howard jotted in his notebook, resting it on the steering wheel, glancing at his watch. His Caddy swerved a little while writing in his notebook.
Brett turned and headed north on Washington Street. Howard’s Cadillac followed.
Howard’s Cadillac followed Brett’s Fairmont to the Columbus Municipal Airport.
Brett parked his car in “Corrie’s Flying Service” parking lot.
Howard parked his Cadillac nearby, turned off the engine, and watched Brett leave his Fairmont and walk to Corrie’s building.
He got out his pen and notebook. “He’s visiting a place called ‘Corrie’s Flying Service,’ he jotted in his notebook, glancing at his watch.
Brett entered her building and walked up to the counter.
“You’re not Katie,” he said, walking up to the counter.
“No, I’m Britney. Katie’s off today,” she replied with a warm smile.
“Well, good morning, Britney, I’m Brett Woods, and I have a lesson with Corrie at nine,” he said.
Britney glanced at her computer. “Yes, Corrie will be back in a few minutes,” she said.
She handed him a clipboard with some papers and a pen. “Could you please complete the required paperwork so we can establish your account? “
“My pleasure,” Brett replied and grabbed the clipboard and pen.
Brett walked over, sat on the couch, and completed the paperwork.
Fifteen minutes later.
Brett completed the papers and walked back to the counter. He handed Britney the pen and clipboard.
Brett glanced over at the small store and thought for a second.
“You know, I could use some supplies,” he told Britney.
Ten minutes passed.
Brett purchased a David Clark headset, flight bag, and a logbook, all charged to his credit card.
Corrie entered the building and noticed Brett at the counter finalizing his purchases.
“Good morning, Brett; I see you’re getting ready for your next flying lesson,” she asked, walking to the counter.
“I need supplies, so I can feel like a pilot,” Brett answered with a chuckle.
“Good, now let’s get started, mister student pilot,” she smiled and walked to the door.
Brett shoved his headset and logbook into his flight bag and followed Corrie.
Howard watched Corrie and Brett leave the building and head to the flightline. “He’s leaving the Corrie’s Flying Service building with an attractive woman,” he jotted in his notebook, glancing at his watch.
Brett and Corrie walked down the flightline.
“Did you find out why the plane quit yesterday?” he asked.
“There’s something wrong with the carburetor. My mechanic ordered a new one. So, we’ll fly my other Warrior today,” she replied.
Howard watched Brett and Corrie walk to another Piper Warrior on the flight line.
“What is he doing?” Howard said. “He walked with that woman to an airplane on the flightline,” he jotted in his notebook, glancing at his watch.
“Let’s get started with the preflight. I’ll go through the process today, and you’ll start doing it during the next lesson,” Corrie said, standing at the front of the Warrior.
“Got it,” Brett replied.
Brett tagged along with Corrie with his new flight bag for the next fifteen minutes and learned how to preflight on the Warrior.
They climbed inside the Warrior.
Howard watched the Warrior from inside his Cadillac. “He’s got inside an airplane with that woman. He’s taking flying lessons or going flying at the Columbus Municipal Airport,” he said, jotting down in his notebook, glancing at his watch.
“Clear prop,” Howard heard Brett yell out from inside the plane.
Howard watched the Warrior’s engine start, opened his cell phone, and punched in a number.
In Fort Wayne, Sidney and Olive ate breakfast on their back porch.
Sidney’s cell phone rang. He opened it up and looked at the viewfinder. “Hello, Howard,” he answered.
Olive noticed his coffee cup was empty and filled it from the coffee pitcher.
“Sidney. I followed Brett this morning,” Howard
said from Sidney’s cell phone.
“Is he working at the plant?” Sidney asked. “Actually, after breakfast, he went to the Columbus Municipal airport and is now taking a flying lesson, or going flying with an attractive woman, as we speak,” Howard tattled.
“That’s very interesting,” Sidney replied, then took a bite of toast. “Keep me abreast of further developments,” Sidney responded, chewing his toast.
“Yes, sir, this will be documented in my report,” said Howard.
“Sounds great,” Sidney replied, disconnecting the call.
“Anything the matter, dear?” Olive asked after sipping her coffee.
“Oh, it’s nothing. Just an update on a business project,” he replied, then sipped his coffee.
Sidney’s cell phone buzzed, and he looked at the viewfinder. It was a text message. He smiled, reading the message.
He quickly finished his cup of coffee.
“I need to run to the office and work on a proposal for a new business project,” he told Olive.
“Okay, dear. I’ll probably head out to the mall for some new shoes.”
Sidney got up and kissed Olive on her cheek.
He walked away with a smile and a spring in his step.
Meanwhile, back at the Columbus Municipal Airport, Corrie let Brett taxi the Warrior down taxiway “C” to “B” to “B1,” where she guided him through the run-up procedure.
Another five minutes passed, and they received clearance from the tower to take off runway 14.
Inside the Warrior, Corrie double-checked the sky for any airplane traffic.
“Okay, we got our takeoff clearance from the tower. Now, slowly move her out to the runway and line her up with the centerline,” Corrie said.
She watched Brett taxi the Warrior to the runway and line it up with the centerline.
Brett slowly pushed the throttle to the fully open position.
The Warrior rolled down the runway.
“Double-check to make sure airspeed comes alive,” she said.
“Airspeed alive,” Brett called out, glancing at the engine gauges. “Gauges in the green.”
Brett applied back pressure with the yoke at the proper airspeed. The Warrior lifted off the runway.
“Very good,” Corrie praised.
Howard watched the Warrior fly away from his car. “The airplane took off,” he jotted in his notebook, glancing at his watch. He kicked back and relaxed.
Fifteen minutes later, at a Motel 6 off of Coliseum Boulevard in Fort Wayne, Sidney parked his brand new black Impala in front of Room 110.
He got out and rushed to the room after ensuring nobody would spot him.
Inside Room 110, Sidney quickly closed the door.
“Hey babe, I’m here,” he called out.
The bathroom door opened, and Agnes appeared in an embellished fringe baby doll lingerie.
“How’s my handsome lover?” she called out in a sexy tone, rubbing the tip of her tongue all around her lips. She modeled around the room in her lingerie and an old lady’s attempt to be sexy.
Sidney immediately stripped off all his clothes.
High in the sky, fifteen miles southeast of Columbus, the Warrior flew at forty-five hundred feet in the beautiful cloudless sky.
Brett flew the airplane straight and level, monitoring the outside for other air traffic.
“I’m going to perform a power-off stall,” Corrie said. “My airplane,” she told him.
He released his hands off the controls, and Corrie took over. She cut the power and raised the nose of the Warrior. The stall-warning buzzer sounded, and the Warrior shook a little. She immediately lowered the nose and gave it full power.
Corrie got the plane back in a straight and level configuration.
“Okay, it’s your turn,” Corrie said. “It’s now you’re airplane,” she added.
Brett smiled at Corrie. She released her hands, and he grabbed his control yoke.
Brett performed a power-off stall.
After that maneuver, Corrie told him to perform a slow flight, forty-five-degree steep turns, and S-turns.
“You’re doing great!” Corrie praised him.
A huge, proud smile grew on Brett’s face. “Let’s head back to the airport,” she said. Brett banked the airplane and headed back to the airport.
At Motel 6, Sidney and Agnes lay in bed, cuddling naked under the covers.
“Can Carl expect a promotion soon? He’s getting itchy for some bigger responsibilities,” Agnes asked, followed by a kiss on Sidney’s cheek.
“I can’t promote him ahead of Brett, as that would raise too many suspicions, especially since Olive owns fifty-two percent of the business and loves that loser. However, after Brett fails this Alliance assignment, I think I can fire him, as Dorian and Olive know I’ve been providing ample warnings for years. Then I’ll promote Carl to President of the Alliance operations with a huge pay raise,” Sidney replied.
“Are you sure it will be easy to fire Brett? I mean, won’t Dorian throw a fit?” she asked.
“I’m also thinking of a way where she’ll dump him for good after she catches him in a compromising position,” Sidney responded with a smirk and wink.
“This all sounds good,” she replied, kissing him.
Twenty minutes passed.
At the Columbus Municipal Airport, Brett’s Warrior was on final approach for runway 14.
Corrie watched Brett keep the airspeed at seventy knots heading to the runway on their final approach.
“Good job. Just keep her at seventy knots.”
The Warrior got above the runway. “Level her out,” Corrie instructed.
Brett leveled the plane over the runway.
“Pitch up on the nose and fly her down the runway,” she instructed.
Brett pitched up on the nose and flew it down the runway centerline.
The Warrior made a smooth touchdown.
“Great job, and you kept it on the centerline,” Corrie praised Brett with a pat on his back.
Brett taxied the Warrior to the taxiway as dictated by the control tower.
Howard watched from his Cadillac. “The airplane landed,” he wrote in his notebook, adding the time.
Brett taxied the Warrior to the spot where they had left. He shut down the plane. They got out and tied down the plane.
Brett and Corrie walked back to her building.
Howard watched from his Cadillac. “He’s going back into the Corrie’s Flying Service building with that woman,” he jotted in his notebook, glancing at his watch.
Brett and Corrie walked into the pilot’s briefing room inside the building.
Brett removed his logbook from his flight bag and laid it on the table. They sat down.
Corrie opened up the logbook. “You did great for your first and second lesson,” she said, filling out the entry from yesterday’s flight.
“Thank you. Practicing on the flight simulator must have helped,” he replied.
“It probably did,” Corrie said, filling out the entry for today’s flight.
Brett glanced at his watch, then looked at Corrie to finish the entry into his logbook.
“How about another lesson today?” he asked.
Corrie closed his logbook and slid it over to him. “You really have the flying bug,” she responded.
“For many years,” he replied with a smile. “Britney, when is my next opening?” she called out.
There were a few minutes of silence. “Four-thirty,” Britney called back.
“I guess I’ll see you back at four-thirty?” said Corrie.
Brett looked nervous, glancing down at his watch. “Four-thirty, ah sure,” he said, then thought for a few seconds and mustered up some courage. “I was thinking,” he said and paused, fidgeting with his fingers. “Would you like to get some lunch, you know, before I get back to work?”
Corrie looked at Brett. “I don’t think so. I’m busy the rest of the day with more students to train.”
Brett frowned, then took his logbook and shoved it in his flight bag. “Okay. I understand. I’ll see you later today.”
Brett exited the table and left the room with his flight bag.
Corrie got up and left the room.
Before leaving the building, Brett grabbed a brochure of Corrie’s business from the lobby.
Corrie walked over to the counter. Britney looked at her with a smile. “What?” Corrie asked.
“He’s charming. Go have a nice lunch with him. You have two hours until your next student,” Britney replied.
Corrie glanced at the door.
“I have to admit he is cute, but he’s also married,” Corrie replied; she walked away and headed into her office.
“Maybe next time,” Britney whispered. “I hope.” She returned to some billing paperwork.
Brett got behind the wheel of his Fairmont. He glanced at the building. He looked down at his wedding ring.
Howard watched from his Cadillac. “He left Corrie’s Flying Service and went back to his car,” Howard jotted in his notebook, glancing at his watch.
In Brett’s Fairmont, he leaned over, opened his glove box, and removed his cell phone. He turned it on. His cell phone rang immediately, and it startled him.
“Hello,” he answered.
“Where the hell have you been? I’ve been trying to call you for the past hour,” Dorian yelled from his cell phone.
Brett cringed. “I’m sorry. I’ve been busy working on that report and wanted some peace and quiet,” he fibbed.
“Speaking of which, daddy won’t give you another extension, so you better have it completed by Thursday!” she nagged.
“I’ll have it completed by Thursday, so don’t worry,” he replied, rolling his eyes.
“You better! Because I will not tolerate you making less money,” she replied. A few seconds of silence. “I’ve been trying to call because I’ve contacted the house’s realtor in Wedgefield. His name is Ralph Stinson, and you have an appointment at four-thirty this afternoon,” she said from his cell phone.
Brett squeezed his cell phone, pretending it was her neck. “Why today? I’m busy working on the report,” he said.
“You’ve been working hard, so you deserve a break. And don’t forget to take pictures of the house and email them to me. I want pictures of all the rooms,” Dorian replied, disconnected their call.
Brett glanced at his cell phone, noticing forty missed calls. He dropped it on his seat and cranked up his Fairmont.
“Seeing a real estate agent isn’t taking a break,” he said, backing out of his parking stall.
Howard watched Brett drive his Fairmont from the parking lot inside his Cadillac.
He cranked up his Cadillac, drove off after Brett, and rested his notebook on the steering wheel. “Brett’s leaving the airport,” he jotted in his notebook, glancing at his watch.
Howard punched in a phone number on his cell phone.