Chapter 4: Little Sister – Charlie, For Now

We decided to lease a SkyLane for a few months, the overhead wing being a better training platform in most people’s opinions. The girls went into flight training together, Amy making the decision to follow Vanessa into it, at least far enough to see if it was something she wanted to do.

The plane, if we decided to keep a prop job for a test platform, would be upgraded to a Caravan, both bigger and a bit faster. It would come in a lot handier in that capacity than the jet, but the jet was for long range and quick trips. Getting to DC or LA in a Caravan would take forever and involve at least one stop for fuel and leg stretches, if not a couple. At the time, I didn’t spend a lot of time worrying about it. I just let it simmer. We’d know when we needed to know.

They did the ground school and flight requirements fairly quickly. Both of them in the plane with the instructor, so lessons in the air were twice as long, but repeated for the one in the back seat. The girls told me they always paid attention, both as the pilot in training and the passenger, as if they were still in that seat. They both soloed within a few months and went on to earn instrument ratings and start to train in the PC-24. Within a year after that, they were signed off on the jet, then after being teased about it, our lab people asked about a platform. The girls went looking for a Caravan and found one. A local guy was moving to Canada in his new Grand Caravan EX and his partner was headed to Alaska to fly with a company there, so he was in need of a good home for his little (he called it little) Caravan. We picked it up for a pittance, still with an engine plan on it, and the girls flew it from an airport south of the city, down, around, and back up to the north end and landed. The avionics were the same ones as in the SkyLane, so there was no problem there. The other interesting fact was that it felt like the smaller plane, and with very little variance, flew like one.

The lab people came out to the airport, looked it over, got ahold of the Cessna books on what was possible, and after removing the back two seats of the club configuration, and getting a certified airframe repair facility to install a connection bulkhead and eight hardware attachments on the exterior, had what they wanted. We could fly test equipment inside and use the external points for antennas or entire or partial radio pods. When Dad saw that, he sold the plane to the company. Martin Industries no longer had to rent planes and make strange schedules when we had one of our own, ready to go. We’d still fly it, the four of us, but we didn’t need it for the family. We still had access, though, if we wanted it for anything. Just a matter of paperwork, and Vanessa could work that out with the bean counters.

Vanessa and Amy both kept their grades up, usually flying one night during the week, and most weekend days during their training periods. They had to spend their spring break in flight school getting certified on the Pilatus, but it worked out and they came home in the front of the jet, proud husband sitting in back as they flew, reading downloaded online brochures about boats. No, you can never have enough toys, and no, I didn’t want a big one. Just a little fishing boat big enough for the five of us, maybe more, so we could spend warm weekend days outdoors on the water.

We got Vanessa through her undergraduate and Amy through her master’s program, then after all the ceremonies were complete, and a day had passed, we sat at the table for a meeting of the minds. The family. The Martin Industries Board of Directors. However you wanted to look at it. It was actually dinner, but I told Dad to call a meeting of the board. I decided to take over the meeting when it was called.

“I want to go fishing.”

“I second,” Dad said, “all in favor?” Five hands went up. “Meeting is adjourned!” The table was set into a laughing fit. During dinner, I explained to them that I had found a boat I want. It was new, but on the Gulf Coast. My plan was to pick it up there, and after a couple weeks of playing, we could bring it home then use it at any number of the lakes we have around here or, just take it back down there if we wanted. It was big, but trailerable, and we had a truck that would easily handle it. Especially since there wasn’t a whole lot of distance, or hills, between us and Biloxi, or New Orleans, or Houston, or wherever.

“I found an outboard catamaran, a World Cat 230DC, and not only can we all be on it comfortably, there is a canopy to get in out of the sun, and it has an onboard private head below, so...”

“We’re all in,” Victoria said, excitedly. “The bad thing about small boats it the lack of such things, but if it has one, and it’s usable, that would be really nice. Yeah, I’m all for doing this for a vacation, kids.”

So off we went. A boat dealer in Mobile was fitting us out with the boat, some upgraded electronics, fishing necessities, and even having a friend of his with a tackle shop fit us out with five sets of heavy-duty general-purpose poles, spinning reels, and gear as well as three deep see trolling setups we could get started with. Ugly sticks and Penn reels made up the sets, and with that and the tackle they put together for us, along with a lot of written instructions, and the directions to the live bait dock, we were completely set. We decided not to rough it too awfully much, so Mom and Dad drove in their car, and the three of us took the truck. The truck actually rides pretty nice on the highway, so it wasn’t bad at all. We drove straight through, stopping at the Courtyard Marriott where we got an eight-night reservation at the Homewood Suites just a bit north from the boat dealer, and they had a couple slips at the Lake Forest Marina we’d use, which was just a bit south.

I called the dealer that night, he told me to do that, regardless of the time, so he’d know, then we set up an appointment for the next morning. The dealer was having me hook up the trailer and boat and all then help us down at the boat ramp at the marina, then answer any questions we might have and turn us loose with some pointers and some spots favorited on the GPS they installed. It was quite an ordeal for a little boat, but they were doing us great favors setting this up as a fishing vacation and all.

We took the boat out after the turnover and signing of all the papers and such, just riding around and getting used to it. The weather was a bit warm, but out on the water it was a bit nicer. The scenery was absolutely fantastic. Water and skimpily clad women everywhere you looked. The ladies sunned, and Dad and I were talking boating and such under the canopy until he left me alone for a bit, taking his shirt off and catching some sun himself.

Vanessa came to me while I was just pondering the GPS and chart equipment, looking where they had set favorites and such. She asked me if she could try it, and instead of joking about how I didn’t want her to mess up my new boat, yet I’d turn her loose with a seven-million-dollar airplane, I just moved and asked her if she had any questions. “I was listening when the guy was showing you stuff. You might want to call someone and ask what to do if you catch a fish. Kind of like a dog chasing a car, hon, what the heck do you do with it if you catch it?”

I’d thought of that, but not seriously. I should have. I doubt the hotel wanted me icing fish down in the bathtub, and ... I called my contact. “Brent, what do we do with the fish we catch? Do you have a locker or anything around here anywhere?”

“Yes, Carl. Sorry, sir. I meant to leave you with a card and a flyer. Don’t think I’m pushing this guy, but he runs a meat processing thing here. Same last name, but I barely know him. We’re like seventh cousins or something. I’ve never heard any complaints, but you could google him, I guess.” He gave us the name and told me he he’d leave a card and a pamphlet at the hotel desk for us. “Just clean them like you do at home, with freshwater fish, then throw them in the fish well with some water on them once in a while, then take them to him. He’ll package them and send them home for you or with you. The dry ice he uses in these foam boxes will stay frozen in the sun for a full 24 hours and in the shade for two days. In a trunk, because of the temperature, you might make it home. You said what, ten hours?”

“Yeah, about that. We can use the boat or the back of the truck, either one. We won’t be out long.”

“Okay. Don’t catch anything until you get the pamphlet and call him. Just in case. I don’t know if the Hilton is going to want you carrying fish into the kitchen, but you could always ask.” He laughed. “Call or text if you need anything, Carl.”

“Thanks, Brent. Really. I appreciate all the help. Yes, I know you’re making money, but thank you.” We signed off and I made an announcement. “No fishing today, but tomorrow, we tear ‘em up. Good call, punkin.”

The week was an absolute ball. Everyone fished, and everyone got a chance to help run the boat while we were fishing, making sure to maneuver it like it needed to be. We caught quite a few fish, none huge, and no strange species or anything, but the cobia and snapper were both good eating and we had a bunch to take home. A couple of sheepsheads and a few sea bass rounded out the trip. We’d have plenty to remind us to come back. The boat was a dream, too. We’d be using it at the lakes back home, I knew. Truman, Long Branch, Lake of the Ozarks, Table Rock, Taneycomo, were all within striking distance. It didn’t sit very far down in the water, so there were lots of options.

We pulled the boat home after the week of sun, fun, and frolic, with no problems. It wasn’t a load on Dad’s truck, at all. Pulling the boat may have affected the mileage a bit, but as a heavy-duty diesel, probably not too much. It didn’t do well on gas to begin with. I should say fuel. Maybe not. We even referred to it as gassing up in the fighters I flew! Oh, the things you think about driving long distance. We had the console up and Amy was lying with her head in my lap, and Vanessa was stretched out in the back seat. When we stopped for gas and lunch in West Memphis, they traded places.

Vanessa looked up at me and puckered, her eyes full of emotion, love, and feeling. I pulled her up, kissed her, and made her promise not to do that after we pulled out of the lot at Pizza Hut. She and Amy both giggled, but she promised not to cause any trouble. After a few miles, they both sat up and talked about this, that, and the other thing, on the way home. I heard something about DSW and peach, so I figured new shoes were in someone’s future.

We had plenty of room at the house for the boat, but Dad said he’d get one of those shed top structures put up to put the boat under to protect it from the sun. He said we could run electricity out to it for the on-board battery chargers. The thing had three batteries and needed all the help they could get through the winter, I imagine. It had two starting batteries, for the outboards and the fish tank pumps, and another for the trolling motor. The trolling motor on it was a big saltwater version that would probably last forever.

We settled in to work with me spending the next two weekends flying to Arizona overnight for some training exercises. The radar return mechanism was working fantastically but hadn’t been used against the enemy in action yet. It had however worked against enemy radar and worked well, but how exactly that happened, I’m not yet allowed to know. I don’t need to. If they say it worked, I’m fine with that.

I would surmise we have a friend in the business, but ... That would be speculation and is really frowned upon.

The training missions were not for nothing. In September I was deployed with my unit in our F-35s to a middle eastern country to help in an eastern European country. We had been there for a week already, each of us having flown nine or ten sorties. The next day when we received our mission brief, we were told to be very watchful, as things were getting pretty tense, politically. Thinking back, I should have known at some point I’d be flying in harm’s way. Many of the pilots and planes in Viet Nam, Desert Storm, Enduring Freedom (New Dawn, whatever) in Iraq and Afghanistan have been reserves and national guard units. I was flying with two active duty fighter units from Utah. Good way to keep up to date and pay back a little, in my opinion.

I even felt that way after the console lights started flashing, the power started dropping and the plane started losing altitude. I had no threats on the screens. None. Then it felt and sounded like a spoon in a garbage disposal. Yes, felt. I actually felt in my ass, the plane coming apart. I had no plans of trying to fly a single engine jet with no engine, fifth generation fighter be damned, so I set all the charges ... In any case, I remembered the protocol for ejection and performed it. Flawlessly. That was the longest six seconds of my entire life, and I hope I never have to face it again. It was a very, very close call. The plane disintegrated under and in front of me just after the seat shot up. The ‘ejection protocol’ never took place. The plane exploded. Three seconds after I pulled ... SHIT! THAT WAS CLOSE!

It was evening. Rather late, actually. I’m sure my unit was sending someone after me, but as soon as I hit the ground, I saw a small body running toward me. I made sure my pack was in one piece, I had the things I wanted out of the seat, including the Beretta and the little twenty-two rifle, then waited to be accosted. While I waited, I used the transponder to let them know I was alive and well, so far.

Her name was Elena. She spoke a bit of English. “Airplane not good.” Oh, and she was very intelligent, I told myself in such a snarky way it made me sick. Sorry, I was thinking in a very short, snappy, inconsiderate way at that point.

Then it hit. The insurmountable feeling of vulnerability, the three seconds between those handles and the plane exploding in front of me. I threw up. I scared Elena. “Ewwww. Mister not OK?” Yes, extremely intelligent. I straightened up and realized I needed to get my act together. I was a representative of the United States, and vomiting all over Moldova was not a really good example of professionalism. “Come. Go home. You sick man.” She took my hand and pulled me to her house, a good hundred yards away, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Must’ve been a farm house. Hopefully the little pieces of my personal catastrophe didn’t hurt any innocents. There are obviously a few of them here. One just found me.

Upon reaching the house, she showed me a chair to set my pack and took me to the kitchen for some water. I saw a woman lying on the couch. Covered in a blanket looking for all the world to be in worse shape than me.

Elena told me, “Alina. Mama. Cancer. Doctor no fix. Nurse send home to me.”

I went to the mother. “Do you speak English?”

“No. Not much. I hear Elena yell ‘airplane fire’ from outside then she runs toward. Not smart child. But you do not land on her. Thank you.”

“You speak English almost as well as I do.”

“Baloney. I work for city. Sometimes we need English. I read. Sorry. Are you hurt?”

“No. Elena thinks I’m sick, but when I realized what happened and I almost died before I got out, I threw up a little.”

“Shock. Sit at table. Drink water. You have radio so they can come?”

“Yes. If I leave a card, and get your address ... Is there anything I can do?”

“For me? No, they say. Too much, too far. Days, now. Weeks if I am unlucky. This is not bad place. Your people OK here. When I am gone, though I worry for Elena. She will have old crippled grandmother. Mother of bastard who leave us on farm and go follow young girl. Old woman not able to take care of Elena. This one, she is only seventeen. Too young to be alone yet. Not ready. Too old to be care of government.”

“You tell her to stay here with you and be careful. Alina...”

“Your name, mister?”

“Carl. Carl Martin.”

“My father is name Karl. With K. You probably with C.”

“Yes, actually. Alina, I am going to leave money. You write down how I can come back to help you. How to find this place. I know it’s in Moldova, close to Tiraspol, but I don’t know much more, and I want to try to help. How do I get back?”

“Elena.” She rattled off a line in ... Moldovan? Elena came back with a tablet, a pen, and a little book with some papers and such. “Here, Mister Carl. Write her information down. Then our address on top of that paper of Elena.” It looked a touch daunting, so I looked at her. “Elena, write in English our address for Mister Carl.” She said something in Moldovan and Elena wrote it in the local writing as well. Then Elena smiled at me with a beautiful smile. The first one tonight. She wrote all that, then the information from her passport. I could see she had been to Greece from the stamps. Alina said something to Elena when she was done. It sounded like it started with a German ‘Thank you’. Danke, or something similar, then more words. Elena smiled at me again and hugged me. Ut oh. Did I just bite off more than I could chew?

The transponder was blinking, so it was evidently working. Someone, I hoped, would be coming for me soon. I had two hundred and forty dollars in my personal belongings, so I pulled off the two hundred-dollar bills and told Alina to have Elena put them somewhere safe. She could convert them in town at the bank after I was gone. Alina had a smile, a sad, smile, but I could tell she had some kind of hope, some possibility of Elena being OK when she was gone.

I fell asleep in a big cushioned chair but was woken by the sound of a helicopter getting close. Daybreak was just upon us. There was just a bit of light coming through one window. Elena came to make sure I was awake and Alina looked at me with a weak smile and told me, “Be careful Mister Carl. Goodbye for now. Elena, stay inside so airplane does not land on you. Silly girl.” We laughed at her as she turned pink. She hugged me and kissed my cheek as I grabbed my bag. I returned it, the kiss on the cheek, told her to be good, getting a nod as an answer, and went out to find my ride. All I could think of was those two women. One dying and the other looking at an uncertain future. One I could help. I wished I could help the other as well. I needed to get out of this mess and talk to my wife and my ... Mom. I needed to talk to my wife and my mom to see if they thought my sticking my nose in this was a mistake.

If they could see Alina and the pain. If they could see Elena and the potential. Or was I looking at them through rose colored glasses. Were they ... Stop second guessing. The para rescue folks got me to the base where we launched our missions from, and I was questioned intensely, then told that I was actually shot down. The one thing the plane couldn’t really sense was a big rifle on the ground, and all indications were that a round had hit the underbelly and damaged the engine severely enough to disintegrate it at high revolutions. A lucky damned shot. I told them how I watched it explode in front of my eyes, as I was rising in the rocket seat. Every account of the transmitted data and visuals from others confirmed their thoughts. I was exonerated and sent to a hospital in Germany to get checked out, then I’d be sent back home. I asked if it was OK to use my cell phone now, as they had a system to put us in the American Cell system on the base. I was given the go ahead and called Vanessa.

When she heard my voice, she screamed. “They told us you crashed. They saw the parachute, but it was getting dark...”

“I’m fine, baby. I’m fine. I punched out before the plane exploded and a young lady found me on their farm. They took me in and gave me some water. I need to talk to you about that, Vanessa. Her mother is dying of cancer and she has no one. Think we could put a high school girl up for a while? She speaks a bit of English. Talk to Mom. See what she says. Elena seems like a great girl. Her mother seems like a nice lady. She doesn’t have long left. Days. Weeks. They took good care of me.”

“You can bring anyone you want as long as you come home. I was so afraid, Carl. So worried. Just come home and hold me.”

“I’ll be home tomorrow, then I want you to see if you can take some time off and come with me. I want to come back for Elena and pay for a hospice for Alina. She’s on a couch with her daughter taking care of her. That’s just not right.”

It took me until late the next night to get home, so it was really four and a half days since I had pulled the ejection handles. Vanessa was beside herself, crying and sobbing into my chest. Amy held her and me at the same time, trying to comfort Vanessa, but me as well. My wife was an emotional mess.

Victoria and Dad wanted to hear the story, so I told them. I spoke of the explosion, my reaction, the little girl finding me, her mother, and the fact that I needed to go back. First thing in the morning, my wife and my girlfriend emailed their professors, explaining the situation and both got a little leeway. Amy had begun her Doctorate studies, albeit part time, and Vanessa was in the middle of starting up her MBA regimen. The news of my experience had gotten that far, so they agreed to let them work on their own for a couple weeks, sending assignments and tasks to work on. Good thing. We had a lot of time in the air, and they’d help the girls tremendously to keep their minds busy. Dad was holding down the fort at work, and sent us with his, their, blessings. Vanessa’s mother, my step-mother, Amy’s friend, sent us with explicit directions to help fix a little of the world that we could.

The flight was a bit arduous, but we made it to Chisinau, then with clearance from the Moldovan government and some help from ours, we were given permission to fly to Tiraspol airfield, with the warning we needed to get in and out on our own, without services. There was nothing there but an airstrip, but they’d call ahead and have the police check the field for us, just in case.

The short flight with full fuel put us only miles from where I was shot down. The fact that, had I had some warning, I was that close to a mile and a half of concrete former Russian military runway was a bit disheartening, but then again, it was Moldova and I would have had to destroy the plane anyway, had there not been our troops there to secure it before the neighbors showed up to take it away from me.

That would not have gone over well ... Imagine this conversation back at the base.

“Hey, Carl. What’d you do today?”

“Oh, hey, Colonel. I gave my super secret airplane and my super secret invention to the Russians. How’s life back in the real world?”

The next question from them would be... “Do you want to break big rocks into little ones, or little ones into really little ones for the next ten years, shit for brains?”

Maybe I was just as lucky that it blew up when it did as I was unlucky that it blew up.

The local car rental place was there with a car for us, but we asked for a driver, too, so luckily, the same place just took care of us. The lady was nice, if not a bit shy, but took us where we wanted to go and stayed with us while we spoke to the little girl that found me.

“Hello, Mr. Carl. Welcome back to Moldova. Thank you for helping us. Momma want me to talk good to you if you return.” She handed me one of the hundreds. “I only use one. They come to take Momma two days past. She not live much after you go. Three days, maybe. Has not been long time you go.” Tears were running down her cheeks, but she was trying to smile.

Vanessa approached her, open arms, and took her in a hug. Then Amy did, then Elena approached me. She hugged me and kissed my cheek again. Looking down at her and holding her in my arms, I knew what I wanted to do, but I didn’t do it fast enough. It was Vanessa. “Elena, will you go home with us and let us help you in life?” Elena’s eyes went wide open.

“Real?”

Vanessa nodded. “Yes, doll. For real.” Elena pulled her into a hug, tucked her head into Vanessa’s neck and started crying. We had her pack some things for a couple nightss stay in town and had her come with us. Their car had been sold when Alina had to stop working, and all she had now was a bus that went by twice a day around the area. She told us she also had a bicycle, but it took over an hour to get to town and by the time she got there, it was hard to remember why she went.

I spoke to the driver about staying with us for a couple days, until we had to leave, and she agreed, eight to eight, each day, was included with what I purchased for three days, so that was taken care of. We still had some time left in the business day, so I asked her if she knew an honest lawyer. She looked at me and laughed. She understood enough to know I was kidding and shook her head. “No, no one does, but I will take you to my uncle’s friend. He might be what you need.”

Mr. Domask, our Eastern European equivalent to a barrister, or lawyer, in English, helped us with everything we needed. He lined up a real estate and land dealer for the farm, knew of the situation with Alina from the news, and wanted to help. She was a state employee whose ‘universal health care’ benefits had run out. There was quite a story about it, considering she didn’t really get much help, just a diagnosis of terminal cancer and a prognosis of ‘not much we can do but help you be comfortable’. No treatments, no advanced medicine, no help at all, even though it was available in Chisinau. Evidently not for government employees with ‘universal health care’. For all the talk of it being unlimited, the expensive stuff wasn’t provided to the peons in the government. The lawyer told us that had Alina Mussov known that, she probably would have gone to work for LITMASH Foundries. They actually take care of their employees. With better healthcare, they would have probably found her cancer earlier, anyway.

The funeral was early that afternoon. We met with the lawyer before and after the funeral, with him attending. There were about twenty people there, so Alina was known, liked, loved, and sent off with the best wishes possible. A few of her friends introduced themselves and hugged Elena, sharing sorrow with her for her loss. Once we got Elena away from the cemetery, the crying subsided somewhat.

Dimitri Domask got all of our information and explained that the neighboring farms would probably pay for the Mussov place and absorb it. They had been offering to buy it from Alina anyway and she was about to sell to them when she passed away. Most of the paperwork was done, and any money from the sale would go to Elena. He told us approximately what his fees would be then explained the law concerning Elena Mussov leaving with us. She was of age, and even though she was not considered an adult, she could make up her mind to travel with us and stay with us. He wrote a letter for me to take to the American Embassy in Chisinau asking that Elena be provided refugee status with us as sponsors due to recent circumstances. He included the part about Alina falling to cancer just after her father abandoned her and his daughter. She quite literally had no one. I left him traveler’s checks worth a thousand dollars as a retainer. When he said he would return what was unused, I told him to just keep us in mind, and if this all went as planned, he was welcome to it. IF it all went as planned.

It took another day to get paperwork together, then out at the airfield, I found that the police had asked the family that owned the farm next to the airfield to keep an eye on the plane. The police followed us back out, and in a gesture of good faith, I let some grease hit some palms. I paid the woman from the farm twenty bucks, US, which is a lot of money in Moldova, and slipped each of the cops a ten, having our driver tell them that lunch was on us. She said, “three days’ worth,” to us, then giggled. I had paid her company for the car and her services, but I gave her forty bucks and thanked her for her help and translating services. I also asked her to thank her uncle for having Dimitri as a friend and left her with a bottle of Wild Turkey American Honey for him as a gift. We had two on the plane, and I’m sure no one would be asking for it any time soon. Vanessa and Amy hugged her, we did our preflight, and off we went, heading to Chisinau and the US Embassy.

The appointment at the Embassy was for early in the morning, luckily, and we were in and out in about an hour with the best wishes of the staff there. The letter from Domask did in fact help. We decided to make a run for it, and stopped for the night in Cork, Ireland. We were only able to get a single room, with two queen beds, but the girls said we would make the most of it, and after dinner retired to the room. We took turns in the bathroom, me first, and afterward I climbed in bed and watched the news on the satellite while they all readied. Elena was last, and although Amy had turned the blankets down on the other bed for her, Amy climbed into bed with us. I had Vanessa on one side and Amy on the other, both resting on my chest watching the news. Elena didn’t know quite what to think of that but climbed into the other bed and wished us all good night.

I woke feeling movement and whimpering, Elena’s obviously, and witnessed our Amy climb into bed with Elena and comfort her, holding her and rocking her to sleep again.