Chapter 20

Jeff had to grin as the copilot came back into the cabin not five minutes after the plane leveled off. Wall to wall pussy, pal. Be a gentleman, and I'll let you look for a while. Look, but don't touch. Jeff admonished himself for his thoughts, but not much. He really couldn't blame the guy, though. There probably wasn't six females in a group on the planet that looked as good as these did.

Feeling sorry for him innocently trying to get a look, Jeff stood up and said, "You can have my seat. I need to talk a bit with the captain, anyway."

"Uh, no thanks, Sir. I was just going back to the restroom."

Oh, crap. He's actually blushing. Every female in the plane knows he came back here to see them. And he knows they know.

"Sit down," Jeff insisted, catching Kathy's eye. "The one beautiful woman you already have on this plane, plus the six I brought with me would do it to a dead man," he teased, not specifying what it was.

Jeff winked at Kathy and she turned away, obviously stifling a giggle. Grinning, he headed for the cockpit. He would bet the copilot would be in the bathroom jerking off long before they got to Georgia — probably several times.

Jeff stuck his head into the cockpit, "May I come in Captain?" At Captain Madison's motion toward the copilot's position, Jeff slid into the seat. "I appreciate your letting me come up here," Jeff responded.

"Ah, come on, Mr. Matthews, you've been in that seat before. I welcome your company. Besides," he added, grinning, "David was about to have a stroke to go back and talk with your ladies." Thinking for a moment, he added, "If he gets out of line, let me know and I'll come down on him, hard, Sir."

Jeff grinned back at the pilot. "My women might tease him a bit, but they will spank him if they think it's necessary. He's a nice guy, and they can pretty much overwhelm any male they want to." Shit why did I say, 'my women'. That's being a smart ass. I didn't mean to do that. "And how about forgetting that 'Sir' bit. I'm just Jeff."

"You've told me that before," Madison said checking his instruments and glancing at the radar, a little distracted. "But I guess those old habits die hard, and 'Sir' is a sign of respect, as you know. And I try to show respect for everyone that flies with us. If you insist, though, I'll try to remember. And," he grinned at Jeff, drawing the word out, "seems to me that I heard the word 'Captain' when you stuck your head through the door."

Jeff chuckled. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Those old habits do have a way of hanging in there."

They heard laughter from the back. "Sounds like Romeo just scored a point or two. Sure you don't want me to chase him out of there?" Madison joked.

Jeff laughed, glanced at Madison again. "Seriously, I thought I would talk to you about a couple of things while we had a little time together."

Madison nodded at the instrument panel and gave a little flick of his hand as if to indicate the aircraft. "Shoot. She practically flies herself. What's on your mind?"

"How much more weight could you take on?"

Madison grimaced, "Not much more, maybe a few hundred pounds. I noticed that your women didn't bring a lot of luggage, considering how many there are of them. Uh, I guess that didn't come out just like I meant it to..."

Jeff looked at Madison. "Come on, lighten up. Ever since those guys came to your house, you talk to me like I'm going to jump down your throat. Just because they're assholes, doesn't mean I'm one, too. My assistant is back there with her daughter; two are Arlene's friends, then my wife and daughter. There's a bunch of them, but they don't bite, and if they do, they have all had their shots," he laughed.

Madison was far from being an idiot, however. He just grinned at Jeff. "All had their shots, huh?"

It was Jeff's turn to bluster as the little dig came perilously close to the truth.

Madison took pity on him. "Enough bullshit. What can I do for you? How much weight are you talking about? We can always make another trip."

"Well I've got a bunch of guns — rifles, shotguns, handguns," Jeff blandly commented. When Madison didn't flinch, he went up a notch or two in Jeff's book. "They're one of my sideline jobs. Obviously, not as much now as they were when I was in college, and for the first couple of years after I started out in business. I have an FFL license. For awhile I bought and sold all sorts of guns to, primarily, police departments. Actually, I've gained more than just a little profit with the business; I've acquired several good friends. You would be surprised at how many cops really appreciate someone doing honest business with them. Seems like most of them have paid high dollar for their weapons. Many police departments still require their officers to furnish their own weapons, particularly the smaller departments. I even managed to make a few sales to some medium sized police departments when they decided to issue weapons to their officers."

Madison thought for a moment. "From your expression, I believe you thought I was going to get all freaked out when you mentioned guns. Actually, I like to go shooting whenever I get the chance. My wife gave me a Sig 226 in 9 mm, Christmas before last." He motioned to his left. "It stays in the plane when we're traveling, then goes home with me when I'm off. I shot a bit in the Air Force, but got some real training when I got out. I'll never be a competition shooter, but I've had a lot of good, safe fun with that present. I personally think that if more honest citizens carried guns, or at least had one at home, and had good training, there would be a whole lot fewer criminals preying on the public. It doesn't take much courage to break into someone's house at night if you know the homeowner isn't armed. It's a whole other ball game when the homeowner is armed and knows how to use a good weapon."

Pausing for a moment, he continued, "Sorry, I guess I got on my favorite soapbox. Back to your question. We're too near our weight limit this trip, but I can come back whenever you like, pending the aircraft not being reserved for the top five, as you know. Just give me a copy of your FFL license, and clear everything with the airports before you get there, or we'll be knee-deep in red tape. Since 911, they will strain a gnat and swallow a camel, unless they're expecting you. Just tell Kathy to make a couple of copies of your license. There's a small copy machine in the back."

Jeff found the control and eased his seat back a bit, giving his long legs a little more room. "I've got a buddy that owns a shop in Atlanta, I may just load them up — most of them are in their original boxes — and let him ship them to Boulder for me. I mentioned it to a dealer there, but he didn't seem too interested. I don't mind giving him a little incentive, but I think the guy is basically a prick. I guess I'll just have to check around a little more."

Madison raised his hand slightly, and Jeff waited while the pilot apparently listened to radio traffic on his earphone. "We're going to have a little bit of a bumpy ride for an hour or so," he said positioning the mike. After he made the seatbelt announcement, he noticed Jeff grinning. "What's with the grin?"

"My assistant does not like to fly. And that's if the ride is as smooth as glass. She's not going to be pleased."

"We have some motion sickness pills, if that will help."

Jeff shrugged. "I wish they would, but she doesn't get motion sick. She's going to be making several trips for the company we're starting. I'm beginning to think that I might just have to make the trips myself, after all. I really hate to make her miserable. She just seems to prefer having both feet planted firmly on the ground."

"Sounds like me when I ride in a car with my wife," Madison said, chuckling.

Changing the subject, Jeff said, "When are you guys going to take me up on my offer of spending a day or two with us?"

"Oh, has the dinner invitation changed into a 'day or two?'"

"It sure has. And if you like to shoot, I found a skeet thrower in the basement. There is sure plenty of room on that mountain to set it up. I have a couple of nice skeet guns in Georgia. I've got tons of targets that I used to sell to police departments. I can pick up a few boxes of clay pigeons. We could have a ball with the shotguns, and give your Sig a workout, too. You can shoot any of my guns, as well. It would be a lot of good fun."

"Have you taught your women to shoot?" Madison said without thinking. When Jeff didn't immediately answer, Madison started to apologize, but Jeff interrupted him.