Chapter 15

Tanzanian Airspace, 31000 feet MSL. June 21, 09:57 GMT +3.

The Herc took off on time at 07:58 East Africa time. On board the Herc were the BO-105, a few crates, and the Angels, less Lorie and Roxy who stayed behind to “care” for TC and his squad. We all knew that it not about the dog, but about the dog’s collar, Bushy and TC. Yeah...

Our own departure commenced, and by 09:02, all the Mirages were airborne and climbing away to 37000 feet above mean sea level, laden with internal and external fuel.

At 09:10 we were in an echelon to the left, loosely formatted on Ash and Nadia in the Mirage 2000 N. Clear skies and a tailwind pushed us 15 knots faster than our Mach zero point eight six speed.

At 09:57, Ash called:

“Eagle Flight, drop to 31000 feet and make speed three sixty KIAS.”

Three “Rodger, Skipper” replies came from the radio. What Ash’s intention was, was soon to be realised, as the TCAS painted an aircraft at 31000 feet doing 350 knots, still fifteen nautical miles away. I smiled.

“Are we gonna say hello and goodbye?” Leah asked.

“Why not? While we refuel at Blantie, they will bypass us there,” Ash replied.

“Just for us to bypass them again...” I chuckled. While the miles were eaten up by our aircraft, the dot on the horizon morphed into a white orange and blue Hercules.

“Alpha Echo Lima, Eagle Flight with you,” Ash called the Herc and Laura came on the air.

“Eagle Flight, you’re a little early! Pushing the speed limit, ain’t you?”

“A1-jet is evil and must be burned!” Olivia chuckled.

At that moment we pulled up to the Herc flying at 352 KIAS. Ash and Olivia’s Mirages to the left and Leah and I to the right of the Hercules, level with its cockpit, but far enough away to not let any slipstream or wing vortexes interfere with any aircraft’s flight envelope.

“Sorry we can’t offer you coffee,” Laura remarked.

“Not to worry, L-girl, we’ll fill up on fuel and coffee in Blantie,” Olivia replied.

“Remember to do a download as well! I believe you don’t have potties on those dinky planes of yours!” Don interjected.

“You ever taken a leak at Mach one?” Ash asked Don.

“Nope! But I believe it is exhilarating!” Don laughed.

“Well, Big Brother, it was nice chatting with you, but we have an appointment in Blantie, and must leave you now,” Ash responded.

“Go, catch the coffee pot in Blantie. We’ll whistle ‘Cheerio’ on our way over!” Laura said.

“See you at home, Big Brother. We’ll have a roaring welcome home fire going when you get there!”

And so the brief encounter came to an end as we pulled up back to 37000 and Mach zero point eight six. Blantyre in our sights.

Don Lambert Field, District of Brits, South Africa. June 21, 12:16 GMT +2.

The four Mirages parked in a line on the Apron were dwarfed by the huge Lockheed L100J Hercules as she taxied up to her parking spot.

Funny? No not funny. Although the flight from Kismayo lasted five hours and twelve minutes, and if you do the math, it would mean time on the clock would be 13:16. But here we are only two hours ahead of GMT, therefore we gained an hour.

It’s like flying from the Seychelles. The flight takes four hours, but you age only two hours. Confusing? Try flying the Anglo-French Concorde. Taking off in London after breakfast and landing in Boston, USA, BEFORE breakfast the same day. Sweet!

“We have to send the hat around for a collection...” Ash sighed.

“Why a collection?” I asked.

“So we can build two more hangars!”

“Yeah, suddenly the field here is crowded, and Don and Dave will start charging us parking fees,” I chuckled.

“You are adding a BO-105, and I am thinking of moving my PC-12, Spitfire and Mustang here as well. Together with the five Mirages, it makes nine extra aircraft in total.”

“Are we keeping the Mirages here?”

“Yes. Don and Dave both asked about expanding the air-show fleet. The Buccaneer, Impala and the five Mirages will be a hit on the air-show circuit. Now add your BO-105, my Spitfire and Mustang. What you think?”

“I can see it in my mind’s eye ... The four ship Mirage 2000, with a solo by the Black Widow. The 105 as a solo, Spittie and Mussie dancing in the sky. Then the Buck and the Imp. Man!”

“And as a show-stopper all ten aircraft in the sky on a flypast...” Ash remarked.

“I’ll have to either go first or last with the 105. She can’t match the speed of the others. And don’t forget about the B17 as part of the museum run!”

“Let’s think about it. But here come the Angels!” Ash said and readied himself as Angie ran over and jumped up on him, arms around his neck and legs around his waist. Darya was a little more calm and just squeezed the air out my lungs in a hug. The kiss could have melted the concrete off the apron.

“Jeez, Darya! It was only five hours!” Mai-Loan teased; her arm wrapped possessively around Don’s waist.

“Yes, five hours too long! But I think we need a pitchfork to get Ash and Angie apart...” Darya chuckled.

Two hours later things were a little calmed down. I say a little calmed down, as those who were apart for the last few days were still very close together.

It was good to be back on home soil. The sun just shone a little brighter, and the sky was just a little bluer.

“Here!” Dave said beside me and handed me a set of keys. “I believe you are taking a few days off, and are running off to the Karoo to see your folks?”

“That’s right. I just have to go see them. It’s been a while since I’ve been there.”

“And you’re taking a certain Miss Kalondarova with you?”

“It seems so...”

“Good! That keys are for Alpha, Alpha, Whisky. She just came out of a major and is standing idle. I know it is an overkill for you two, but it would be a little faster than flying the 105 out there.”

“The PC-12!”

“Yeah, go for it. She’s fuelled and ready to go. I know you are current on her. She’s the same model you flew in SAPS. Besides, women pack much stuff ... you’ll need the space!”

“Going there, or coming back here?” I asked with a smirk.

“The going will be in balance with normal women practice, including the kitchen sink, but it’s the coming back I am worried about. Especially if ‘Momma-Ronny’ takes a liking to Miss Kalondarova and loads up her arms with all kinds of goodies...” Dave said and turned to leave. “Been there, got the t-shirt and read the book. Now, let’s go get something for grub, I’m starving!”

Later that afternoon we were all just going about our own things. Ash had an after-action report to discuss with Charley, and he disappeared to somewhere out of earshot.

The cooler weather of late June was a relief to the blistering heat out in East Africa. A cool south wind was blowing across the land. The windsock at the helipad was standing to the east and was just lifting off the post. About two to three knots, I estimated.

The girls were somewhere doing girlie things, led into temptation by Angie and Nadia. I was not surprised to find Tracy also in the mix. Three Red Heads! Not good ... Not good at all!

Leah and Olivia went with Laura to search out Lisa and Lucy in the little airfreight office. Seems there was some catching up on the menu. The four “Ls” and an “O” together. Not good. Not good at all, but I expect more mayhem from the three redheads.

All the aircraft were stowed away in the hangars, and Don even found a space for the BO-105 next to the two MD 530s. That was after some of the ground crew staff first wheeled her over to the maintenance workshop and unfurled her wings. (Rotors.) “She must be ready at a moment’s notice,” the ground crew chief had explained. So, rotors unfurled and tanks filled, she now is being kept company by the two MD 530s, the Buccaneer, Impala, and the Boeing B17G. Yes, there was a little shuffle to get all the aircraft under cover, but no stone was left unturned to get things right.

It looked somewhat funny to see the three helicopters squeezed in under the wings of the old B17, but it was done in such a way that any aircraft could be moved out without disturbing the others. Thanks for large hangars.

Of course, the guns and gun mounts were hidden away, together with other funny stuff belonging to the Mirages. Ask no stupid questions, then you’ll hear no lies!

Back at the cabin, I decided to forewarn the Karoo farm about my intended visit, and that we would have a guest.

“Aaah, my long-lost son! I did not know you lost your phone...” My mom said on answering my call.

“It’s not been that long! I called about three weeks ago...”

“More like a month and a half. But how are you doing, Ron?”

“Life is just fine, Mom.”

“Still cheating death by flying those contraptions, or are you ‘flying-a-desk’ now?”

“Still flying,” I chuckled. “But not with SAPS anymore. I’m flying for a private corporation now. Much more relaxed and safer...”

“And money wise?”

“Better!”

“Ah, seems like you are going up in the world. Do they, this private corporation, have benefits, like vacation leave?”

“Yes, Mom. That’s why I’m calling. I got a few days off and will be seeing you guys tomorrow around ten or eleven.”

“Oh, boy! I’ll have your dad slaughter the Christmas lamb and roast it!”

“Don’t go to all the trouble!”

“Are you driving down or flying in?

“We are flying in, and therefore need a lift from the Beaufort West Airport.”

“We?”

“I’m bringing a friend...”

“Oh. I hope not as rowdy as the last guy you brought along.”

“No, Mom. She is a little more quiet...”

“A, SHE! I must say ... What happened, Ronny?”

“I lost my heart...”

“About time too! I was losing hope for you.”

“Mom!”

“Don’t ‘Mom’ me. What is she like?”

“Wait and see...”

“Oh, boy! Looks like you have the shot through good and solid!”

“I think you’ll like her.”

“I’ll go and see to the guest room. Air it out and put some flowers in there as well.”

“She is very down to earth and not full of nonsense. A real good person...”

“Say all boys in love...”

“Mom!”

“You are both welcome, my son.”

“Thanks Mom. Tell dad to be on his best behaviour,” I chuckled.

“I’ll make him wear a tie...” Chuckle. “What’s her name?”

“Darya.”

“Draa-r-i-a?”

“No, Daar-jaa.”

“What name is that?”

“Darya Kalondarova.”

“Son? Is she...”

“A Tajikistan girl...”

“Not a mail-order bride from Russia?

“No, Mom. You will see tomorrow,” I chuckled.

“I’ll wait until tomorrow ... I thought she’s Russian...”

“She speaks Tajik, Russian, French, English and is trying her best at Afrikaans.”

“Must be a clever girl. I can’t even speak English to defend myself...”

“Ag, Mom! You speak better English than me! Jeez, you were an English teacher before Dad rescued you from the little snot-nose cutters!”

Chuckle. “That was in the days when I was still young and beautiful. Now I’m just ... beautiful!” Mom teased. “Before you came along and spoiled everything.” We both laughed. I knew she was just teasing.

“Where’s dad?”

“Where do you think? Out somewhere with his new interest. Game farming! He has a herd of about sixty springboks. There are some black ones that think they are sheep and run with the sheep!”

“Black springboks? That’s unheard of...”

“No, they have been around for some time. It’s supposed to be a genetic defect, but the people are going gaga over it and now the black ones are being bred for the fun of it.”

“And dad jumped on the bandwagon?”

“You know your dad ... But it keeps him going. He doesn’t spend that much time with the hands-on farming since we got the farm manager to see to things.”

“Oh, and it keeps him out of your hair?”

“You know it!” Chuckle.

“Well, Mom, see you around 10:00 tomorrow. We leave around eight or nine tomorrow morning. Touch down will be around 10:00 or 11:00, depending on the weather, but I’ll call, so keep your cell phone with you.”

“I’ll do so. Keep well, and see you tomorrow, Ronny. Bye.”

“Bye, Mom,” and I disconnected.

Around 15:30 a soft drone and a slight dust trail announced the arrival of a vehicle coming down the dirt road towards the holiday/safari guest huts. It was no surprise as the vehicle turned out to be a 4 × 4 bakkie, and the only person inside was Darya.

Stopping under the shade-cloth parking, Darya got out and walked over to me on the porch. I got up and went to meet her at the top of the flight of three stairs.

“Thought I will come fetch you for supper,” Darya said as she hugged and kissed me.

“It’s a little early for supper...” I replied and took her hand, leading her to the couch on the patio.

“Oh, so at what time must I come get you?”

“You are here now, so we can sit and chat until it’s time to go.”

“You don’t want me here?”

“Dar! Of course, I want you here!”

“Did not sound like it...”

“Because I said it’s a little early for supper? I meant...”

“Oh, come on, Ron! I’m just kidding,” Darya laughed.

“Are you packed?”

“No. Why? Am I going somewhere?” Darya asked, raising an eyebrow.

“We are going to visit my parents on the farm. We talked about it...”

“My bags are in the bakkie...” Darya laughed. “Plus my overnight bag for tonight.”

“You little rascal you...”

“So, am I gonna get my spanking now?”

“No. Not before bedtime...”

Giggle.

I drew her hard against me and kissed her. “We can leave at 08:00 tomorrow morning. It will bring us there well before lunch.”

“It’s one thousand and twelve kilometres there and take twelve hours to drive!” Darya exclaimed. “What are you driving, a Lamborghini with disregard for the speed limit?”

“Come with me,” I said. Darya looked at me with a puzzled look on her face, but got up and followed me inside.

“Here,” I said picking up a bunch of three keys and handed it to her.

“What’s this?”

“The keys to the Starship Enterprise. Or something similar...”

“The Starship ... Enterprise...?”

“Dave’s Pilatus PC-12. We fly there!”

Darya’s face lit up.”Ronny!”

“Yeah?”

“I have a medium suitcase. Will there be space for it?”

“Darya, sweet Darya! The PC-12 is in VIP configuration. It seats six in the cabin on luxury leather seats. In the cargo hold I can fit all you want plus the kitchen sink. In an airline mode she can take ten people.”

“Oh, wow! It must be a big aircraft...” Darya said and melted into my side, holding up the bunch of three keys. “Why three keys?”

“They’re for the doors and cabinets.”

“It’s got more than one door! And cabinets?”

“Wait till tomorrow, and you will see. It is a wee bit bigger than your average Cessna.”

Darya chuckled.

“Did you pack warm clothing?”

“No. Why?”

“It gets to be a little frosty this time of year out on the Karoo plains.”

“But you are there to keep me warm,” Darya giggled naughtily. There was a twinkle in those dark eyes that I got lost in.

Don Lambert’s house. June 21, 19:00 GMT +2

Outside the night sparkled with a million stars. Soon the moon would rise in the east. A full moon tonight will deepen the shadows but bathe the landscape in its silver glow.

Laura’s horses in the stable were resting up. Tracy’s chickens, and the ducks, have long gone to roost, and Mai-Loan’s cattle lay down in the meadow. All were winding down for the night.

Inside the Spanish style farmhouse, the denizens were also winding down for the evening.

The girls were all in the lounge, chatting away about whatever girls talk about when together. The three redheads were sitting together on a couch.

Don and Dave were going over the plans for the expansion of the estate and the airport. Although the downturn in the global economy has been felt in the operations of the airfreight business, both Don and Dave thought that there was room to expand the airfield. They could enlarge the aprons and parking space, thereby getting weekend warrior pilots to use the airport. This will bring in some cash. Not that it would float the business, but would contribute towards the maintenance of the field itself.

Ash and Angie were in Don’s study, on the phone.

“ ... now the Somali connection is over, what’s next, Charley?”

“Nothing for now, Ash. You can go back to what you do, and Angie can go back to teaching.”

“Yeah, I think students are missing Doctor Angelique.”

“Is Ronny escaping to the Karoo?”

“Him and Darya. He’s taking the Ice Princess along with him.”

“I believe things are getting serious between the two. What happened to Roxy?”

“I spoke to Roxy; in fact, Roxy came and spoke to me. She felt like Darya would be a better match for Ronny. She loves both of them, but like she said, she loves Ronny as the brother she never had.”

“And the TC guy, what’s his name ... Bushy?”

“The two, Roxy and Bushy, have been fluttering around one another for some time now. We did not notice it before, but yeah, there’s something brewing there. Bushy is gaga over Roxy, and the same seems to be with Roxy over Bushy.”

“They must just get some better poison to drink! My word, Johnnie Walker of all the fine whiskeys out there!”

“You’ve been speaking to Mai-Loan?”

“She calls from time to time...” Chuckle.

“When are you going to put your foot down, and tell her to stop playing war-games?”

“I think this was her last outing. She is happy with Don and raising steers...”

“Although Tracy is the main wife?”

“They are all equal. Tracy ... dear Tracy ... She has this idea that she needs to fulfil a dream for Don. But no, they are all equal, and one of the few four-way couplings I know that is in fact working.”

“Like Dave and his three girls?”

“Lisa, Lucy, and Nadia. Yeah ... At least they are loved and cared for.”

“What about you, Charley? What is happening for you?”

“Me? I’m just trying to spread the happiness and...” Sigh.

“Charley?”

“Ash, if you breathe one word of what I am going to tell you, I’ll have to employ Nadia for one last time. And we don’t want that, do we?”

“Charley...”

“I have found Mai-Loan’s mother. It took me ten years, but I found her...”

“Does Mai know?” Ash croaked.

“No. You are the first to know.”

“Where is she, Charley, and is she safe?”

“She is safe and better than what she was. She’s with me...”

“Charley?”

“The time has come for you and Angie ... to take over. Else I terminate the Foundation.”

“What about the Angels?”

“Their time has passed. They are all sorted. Most of the Angels are either in relationships or employed with a steady income. No, Ash. It’s time we meet...”

“I’ll speak to Angie ... She is sitting right here, but I need to discuss this with her.”

“Good. Give her a hug from me a call me when you two are ready. And, Ash, don’t take forever ... I have places to go, people to see, life to live ... with my new love ... and maybe ... no never mind.”

“Charley, I will call you soon. Let me speak to Angie, but I think it will be sooner than you think.”

“Thank you, Ash. Give the Angels, all of them, a hug from me...” And the line went dead.

Ash looked at Angie. “We have a big decision to make. But not tonight...”

Don Lambert Airfield, Brits, South Africa. June 22, 06:10 GMT +2.

I could not ask for a better day. First waking up to the smell of breakfast aroma filling the holiday cabin. I did not hear or feel Darya getting up, but she must have done that a while ago.

I rolled out of bed and did the morning ritual and then got dressed in my usual uniform of the day: light tan coloured cargo pants, running shoes, and an over-all brown chequered short sleeve shirt.

“Hi there, sleepy head!” Darya greeted, and I then collected a morning kiss on the cheek as she handed me a mug of coffee.

“I smell something good!”

“I re-created Laura’s full-farm-day-starter breakfast. Eggs, bacon, hash browns, some sausage, and the toast will be ready when you sit down.”

“Well, let’s not waste your effort. Let’s go eat!” I exclaimed, and I placed my arm around her waist and kissed her on the neck.

“Eeeeee! Don’t do that! You know I’m ticklish there...”

“I know more places that you are ticklish.” Chuckle.

“Not now!” she said and wiggled out of my grip on her waist. “The food is getting cold.”

“Lucky you don’t have a wooden spoon with you...”

“Come! There’s a big day ahead,” she said and led the way into the little kitchen. “Sit down at the table, I’m bringing our plates!”

I did as was ordered and soon breakfast was in our wake. I helped her clean up the breakfast debris, me washing the dishes, and her drying them off, and placing them back into the cupboards and drawers. It felt serene with the two of us doing the clean-up dance, bumping into each other.

Outside the sun was bleakly peeking over the horizon. A few scattered clouds foretold the future of some turbulence, but we will cross that bridge when we get there. Now, packing the bakkie with all the stuff for our week-long break.

Darya looked at me with a frown on her face, as I packed a certain olive-green case on the back of the bakkie.

“Are you taking the gun along?”

“One never knows if I might have the chance to test it out.”

“You have place on the farm to test it?”

“Yeah, about two kilometres from the house there’s an old dry run of the river that flows by the farm.”

“If I knew, I’d have brought the three thirty-eight along as well...”

“We can go by and fetch it...”

“Okay! If you don’t mind me bringing it along?”

“I don’t mind, Dar. At least we have something in common with the guns.”

“Yes, we do...” She said. “I should get used to going for paper targets...” Darya said, glancing at me through the locks of hair that fell over her face, a weak smile on her face.

Out on the apron, the L-100-J Hercules sat sparkling in the morning light. There was a truck pulled up to her loading ramp that was down only halfway, slotting on to the bed of the truck. A few guys were loading boxes and crates onto the Herc. Don, Leah, Olivia and Laura were standing around, overseeing the loading.

Next to the Herc, and dwarfed by it, the Pilatus PC-12 was parked.

“Good morning, Ronny, Darya. I’ve completed the preflight for you,” Dave greeted.

“Good morning to you too! Seeing this is your bird, I trust you on the preflight,” I chuckled.

“Yeah, the insurance is paid up, but still, I like her ... You, I’ve not made up my mind about, but Darya is another matter,” Dave laughed.