Home » The Archives » Chapter 8 » Home is Where the Heart Is
| Re: Home is Where the Heart Is [message #2046 is a reply to message #2043] |
Sun, 29 July 2012 11:52   |
Lillehafrue
Messages: 478
Registered: July 2012
Location: Northeastern USA
Karma:
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TB Pilot
Evil Genius |
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From: Tikatu Sent: 8/21/2006 12:40 PM
Friday, July 27, 2068, 8:30 a.m., local time, near Wichita, Kansas (1:30 a.m., Saturday, July 28 on Tracy Island)
"So, what do you think she'll be like?" Scott asked Tin-Tin as they drove from the farmhouse to the testing grounds.
"I don't have a clue," Tin-Tin replied, adjusting the scarf that held her hair in place. "Hopefully, she'll be what we need."
They'd gotten in around midnight local time, and had spent the night in the old Tracy farmhouse. The caretaker, Marion, had made sure that everything was ready for them, and had shown up that morning to make breakfast for the pair. Tin-Tin had been quite taken with the old house.
"Yeah, it's been in our family for generations," Scott had told her. "When Mom died, we came out here to live for a while so Grandma could take care of us while Dad worked on building the business. It was good for Grandma, too, as Gramps had died a year or so before Mom of heart failure." He had sighed. "I wish he could have been around, too, but maybe it was for the best that he wasn't. Dad and he often butted heads."
Now they were driving the family's convertible BMW to the air strip, where they would pick up one Heather Kennedy, pilot and candidate for a spot on the International Rescue team... though she didn't know that part just yet.
"I'll do the preflight checks while you look for our passenger," Scott suggested when they arrived at the hangar.
"How do you want to handle seating arrangements?" Tin-Tin asked. "I mean, it's rather rude to make her sit back in the cabin by herself."
"I suppose she could fly shotgun for a while," Scott suggested. "I would like the chance to talk with her. Besides, you did the lion's share of the flying yesterday. Tell you what: you fly co-pilot as far as L.A. and I'll call her up to the flight deck after that and give you a rest."
"Sounds like a plan," Tin-Tin said. "That way she's only alone for an hour or so." She removed the scarf and combed through her hair with her fingers. "I'll go find her now."
Heather was standing in the ready room, an overnight bag and a garment bag at her side. She was dressed in a stylish navy blue skirt suit. As close as I can get to my Navy uniform without wearing it, had been her thought. She looked up as a pretty Asian girl walked in, looking around. As the girl noticed Heather, she held out her hand.
"Heather Kennedy?"
"Yes, that's me." She took the proffered hand and shook it as the girl said, "I'm Tin-Tin Kyrano, and I'm here to take you to Mr. Tracy's home."
"It's nice to meet you," Heather said, smiling.
"And to meet you," Tin-Tin replied. She liked what she saw of the young lady so far. Designer suit, hair in a twist, all neat and professional looking. I think Mr. Tracy will be impressed. I'm sure that Scott will be, too. "Mr. Tracy's son, Scott, is doing the preflights now. Won't you come with me? We can get your baggage stowed and get settled for take off."
"All right," Heather said. Tin-Tin reached down to pick up Heather's garment bag, allowing Heather to take the other case. Together they walked out to the plane.
"Scott?"
Heather's eyebrow went up as she saw the young man glance their way. So, that's Scott Tracy, she mused. He certainly looks like his father!
Scott came over to the two women, flashing his famous Tracy smile. Tin-Tin made the introductions. "Scott, this is Heather Kennedy, our passenger for today. Heather, meet Scott Tracy."
Scott offered his hand. "Nice to meet you, Ms. Kennedy." The security photos didn't do her justice, but then, they never do.
"Likewise, Mr. Tracy," she replied, shaking his hand.
He put up a finger, and shook his head. "Ah-ah," he said. "Mr. Tracy is my father. Please call me Scott."
"All right, Scott. Then you can call me Heather."
The introductions made, Scott offered to put Heather's bags in the cargo hold, while Tin-Tin ushered her into the luxurious cabin. "Nice plane," Heather commented. "How fast does she go?"
Tin-Tin laughed. "Tracy One can fly as fast as Mach 2, though we'll probably be keeping our speed around Mach 1.5."
"Ah, I see." Heather tried not to sound disappointed. Now I really wish I'd taken my plane. But... Mach 1.5 for a quick hop to Topeka? That doesn't make any sense. Maybe Dad was right to be concerned! Well, you'll never get it clarified unless you ask. "Uh, forgive me for asking, but isn't Mach 1.5 a little fast for a quick hop to Topeka?"
"We're not going to Topeka," Scott said as he climbed aboard and headed for the cockpit. "Contrary to popular belief, we don't live in Kansas at all anymore. We have a farmhouse here, and stay there when we're in the area, but our real home is in the South Pacific."
"Really?" Heather said, her tone thoughtful -- and hiding how stunned she was at the information. "How fascinating."
"If you'll excuse me, Heather, I'm going to fly co-pilot for Scott until we reach L.A.," Tin-Tin said apologetically. "Then we'll have a stretch, and a quick topping off of the tanks before the longer leg of the journey."
"Oh, sure," Heather said, nodding slightly. "That's fine."
Tin-Tin smiled and nodded, then followed Scott into the cockpit. Heather looked around the luxurious cabin and sighed. She glanced down at her clothes, and shook her head. "I hope I don't look too rumpled when we reach our destination."
In Los Angeles, Heather was a bit surprised to be invited to sit in the cockpit with Scott. "Tin-Tin did a lot of the flying yesterday," he explained as she took the co-pilot's position and slipped the headphones on. "I thought it wise that she take a break and rest on this part of the flight."
"Sounds like a wise precaution," Heather ventured. She paused, then asked, "So, where in the South Pacific do you live? Micronesia? New Zealand? Malaysia? Borneo?"
Scott grinned, and she couldn't help but notice again his resemblance to his father. "None of the above," he said. "We live on an island all our own."
Heather gaped. "You have your own private island?"
He nodded. "Yep. And we value our privacy very highly, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't spread that around. We like to keep people guessing about where we live."
"I... I guess you do," she murmured. There's such a thing as liking your privacy, but that's just ridiculous!
The flight took roughly 6 hours, and during that time, Scott asked her a lot of questions. About her time in the Navy and why she enlisted, about her current job at Tracy Industries and what she liked about it, about her plane... always a topic to open up the floodgates of conversation. She got in a few questions of her own, too, mostly about his father and the family, but when she tried to probe deeper into the privacy question, Scott got cagey, repeating what he'd said before, and mentioning the trouble they had with reporters. She also asked why Jeff was hiring a new personal pilot again so soon, a question that twisted Scott's handsome face into a slight scowl.
"First off, my father's personal pilot, Elise Collins, is still on staff, despite the accident in New Hampshire. The position you've applied for is for a family pilot, someone who can fly my grandma to the store if necessary, or my younger siblings places that they need to go when no one else is available. The, uh, gentleman who had that position before found it to be not to his liking, and quit." Which is perfectly true; Christopher quit before he could be fired.
Heather frowned. "Sounds like a rather boring job," she commented.
Scott smiled, a small, secretive smile. "Believe me," he said. "You'll find the job far, far from boring."
Now they were coming in for a landing. Heather looked down to see the tiny spot of green, a spot that became larger with every circle Scott made. It looks lush, she thought to herself. A butterfly began to wave its wings inside her; she was now moments away from meeting a lifelong hero!
"Sorry you had to come during the winter," Scott was saying nonchalantly. "But our pool is heated, and the temperature can get up to one suitable for sunbathing... if you're into that kind of thing."
"Uh huh," was all that Heather could say.
They were on their final approach. "This is Tracy One, calling Tracy Island. Requesting permission to land."
A deep, rich voice replied, "Permission granted, Tracy One, and welcome home."
Scott brought the plane in for a perfect landing on the short runway, and Heather couldn't help but admire his skill. The butterfly was joined by a couple more as he slowed the plane to a stop under the shadow of a tall cliff. She craned her neck, trying to keep the odd thing that jutted out from the cliff in sight. Is that a... building?
At last, the plane halted, and Scott powered down the engines to a standby mode. "I'll be taking her into the hangar in a few minutes," he explained, motioning toward the metal door that stood before them.
"You put your planes inside there?" she asked, incredulous.
He nodded. "Yeah. The whole island is honeycombed with lava caves and tubes. It's a matter of using what nature provided." Glancing to one side, he said, grinning, "Here comes your welcoming committee. I'd better get your luggage."
Heather took a deep breath as she noticed the little car coming down a steep, switchback trail. Suddenly, she wanted to look her best, and instead of climbing out of the cockpit, as would be her usual exit, she went back into the cabin, and grabbed her purse.
"Just want to freshen up a little," she explained, quite unnecessarily, to Tin-Tin. The Malaysian girl just smiled.
The butterflies were flapping at full force now as the door to the cabin opened and the gangway steps extended. Heather took a deep breath, and stepped out into the shade from the cliffside. Scott was there to guide her down safely.
Another quick adjustment and smoothing of her skirt, and suddenly, the little cart was there, and so was he. Her personal hero (aside from her own father). He stepped out of the cart and came over to where she stood. His smile, his dimples, his blue eyes, the way he carried himself... he was exactly how she had pictured him to be. He extended his hand and said, "I'm Jeff Tracy. Welcome to Tracy Island."
The butterflies vanished with a poof as she took his hand confidently and said, "I'm Heather Kennedy, and may I say, sir, it's an honor to meet you."
98% pure evil...and loving every minute of it.
 
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