Home » The Archives » Chapter 9 » Regrouping and Recouperation
| Re: Regrouping and Recouperation [message #183 is a reply to message #182] |
Mon, 23 July 2012 09:02   |
artisticrainey
Messages: 1228
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northern Ireland
Karma:
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Field Commander
Switzerland |
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(Wednesday, August 8, 2068 Tracy Island, 9:11 a.m./ Tuesday, August 7, 2068 Wichita, KS 4:11 p.m.)
Wednesday morning, Scott sat at the command post, tapping a stylus on his father's desk. The field commander stared at the duty list that he made for himself every day. On his electronic notebook, Heather's name was highlighted in electric blue. First, Scott needed to call the testing grounds to start affecting Heather's transfer to the island, and perhaps, he could satisfy his curiosity as to why Heather was staying at the Regis. He suspected that she had been driven out of her home due to a tornado. There were a few reasons he could come up with as to why she didn't want to tell him. Being in the military for so long, she probably had the stiff upper lip drilled into her. Technically speaking, it wasn't his place to insist on her telling him, but that warred with his natural instinct to care. From the short amount of time they had to talk, she seemed to genuinely care that his family was enduring so much trouble after rescuing the disabled kids. Scott, himself, complained little and was surprised to find himself confessing his troubles to her.
Well, I best get this going, Scott thought to himself. The clock on his father's command console read 9:11 a.m. Searching the phone listings, Scott found and dialed the testing grounds.
Before the vidphone completed its first ring, the tough scraggy face of Commander Langley appeared on the screen. "This is the Tracy Testing Grounds; Commander Langley speaking."
"Commander Langley, this is Scott Tracy, calling on behalf of my father Jefferson Tracy--" His voice was strong and heavy with practiced authority.
"Scott! It's wonderful to hear from you! How are you? How's the family?"
"We're all doing pretty well, Commander. I won't take up much of your time, but we're transferring one of your test pilots to serve as a family pilot at our facilities."
"Who's this?" Commander Langley asked, curiously as he leaned in his black leather office chair. Grabbing his electronic notebook and a stylus, he prepared to write. There would be one person to transfer and that meant there would have to be a new test pilot brought in.
"Heather Kennedy," Scott answered.
"Kennedy?" Hearing Heather's name surprised Langley. "Well, when you gotta go, you gotta go. We'll get to work on it."
Scott grinned. "Great. By the way, I was wondering if you might know what it was that caused her to move to the Regis Hotel?"
"No idea, Scott, but I could transfer you over to her direct supervisor. That would be Kenneth Blake. He might know."
"Do that for me, would you?" asked Scott. "And thanks."
"Anytime. Give my regards to Jeff."
"I will, Commander," Scott agreed.
A few minutes later, Blake came on the screen. "This is Kenneth Blake."
"Mr. Blake? This is Scott Tracy calling. I've put in a transfer for one of your pilots. Her name is--"
"Heather Kennedy?" Blake finished.
"Yes. She applied for the family pilot position with us; she's been interviewed, and she's accepted."
"Okay," said Blake. "The commander knows about this?"
"Yes, he does. I wanted to ask you--how's she doing?"
Blake shook his head. "Well, if you mean her work here, she's doing just fine. Exemplary, in fact. If you mean her life away from work, that's not so good. I don't know if you've heard or not, but we've had a unusually strong thunderstorms come through last Sunday. Several tornadoes touched down between Wichita and El Dorado. After the first siren went off, Heather left to make sure her aunt was okay. On the way, she was chased by one tornado. When she arrived home, she discovered a second tornado had taken her house. I didn't find out what happened, until I found out she was late for work and I called to check on her. She's so punctual that if she's late for work, I get worried."
"Thank you, Mr. Blake. It confirms what I suspected. I'll see to it that Tracy Industries offers its help to her."
"Glad to hear it, Scott. When I called, she was still pretty hyper."
"Hyper?" Scott asked.
"Well, she had just realized that she was supposed to have reported for duty the day after that crazy storm hit so bad. That's how any of us found out about what happened. I told her to just relax and not worry about coming in."
"That's the best advice she could receive. Thank you, Mr. Blake. That's all I needed to know."
"You're welcome."
Sitting back in his seat, Scott rubbed his chin thoughtfully, frowning with concern. Remembering the still fresh feelings of losing the Tracy homestead made him think about what Heather must have lost. That explains why she's at the Regis. She's going to have to start all over again. Maybe I can talk with Tin-Tin to see what we can do, but for right now, we can at least help with hotel expenses for her.
With a satisfied smile, Scott got to work. Pressing the vidphone, he called the Regis in Wichita and talked with the manager. Without her knowing, Heather's hotel bill would be paid for through Tracy Industries. Second, he ordered a bouquet sent to Heather's room with a note of encouragement.
Ordering the bouquet of flowers for Heather got him to thinking of his mother in the hospital. Scott put in one more order for a bouquet full of roses and carnations. "I'm sorry I can't be there, Mom. At least, you'll know I'm thinking of you."
Next order of business? Call Heather, Scott thought. He punched in her number, and waited for her to answer.
Hearing the televid ring in her room, Heather tapped the receive button, causing Scott to appear on the screen. His sea blue eyes still had a hooded look to them. I wonder if he's gotten much sleep? Either there's another storm brewin' or that's pretty strong coffee he's drinkin', Heather pondered. "Hi, Scott. This is Heather."
"Hi, Heather. Tin-Tin volunteered to be your co-pilot. I told her what sort of plane you fly and she got pretty excited. Your Jet Star is faster than my father's jet."
"I shouldn't be, but I'm rather fond of it. Dad helped me finance it, so it means that much more. And I'm glad Tin-Tin's coming along. I'd like to discuss with her this thing she has for 'water mambas'." Heather tried to explain the fact that 'water mambas' were in reality elapids designed for existing in warm tropical waters and were built with their own singular swim fin, but Scott was bent over laughing so hard he couldn't hear what she said. That was one thing he liked about her already. Heather had a wonderful natural gift for deadpan.
As he got control of himself, Scott gave her a warning. "Just to let you know; Dad might insist on testing out the product in question, just to make sure it's living up to its performance requirements." He took a deep breath. "Heather, are you settling down okay?"
Now, that's an odd question. she thought. "Yes, I am."
"The reason I asked is that when I initiated your transfer with your supervisor, Blake, told me how you nearly lost your life, and lost your home to the tornadoes. I'm sorry."
Heather sat down heavily in the lounge chair, wishing she had a glass of crème de menthe straight. "Lost my home? Yes. Nearly lost my life? It wasn't that dire of situation. Fortunately, the tornado turned away before it could destroy El Dorado. There were several people who had to get out of the tornado's path along with me," she admitted.
"Heather, is there anything we can do for you?" he asked kindly, knowing full well that there was more to her story than that.
Several things came to mind, such as a foot massage, a back rub, a shoulder to cry on and a monster teddy bear. "No, Scott. I can't think of a thing. This is where I need to travel lightly, anyway. Thank you for asking. How's your mother doing? I know it's a bit soon to ask."
"Father has gone up to stay with her. My last update said she was already doing better, but Dad has to make sure she's staying put. Hopefully, Mom will be able to come home soon."
"Doctors make the worst patients, or so I hear," she said, laughing.
"Father is actually worse than that." Scott chuckled.
"Who's the worst?" Heather asked, curious.
"Me!" Scott answered without hesitation. "We'll see you on Saturday. Fly safely and may the skies be clear for you."
Post by AmandaTracy on 12/10/2006
  
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