Chapter 6

"Brian, how did those evil bastards get to Rebecca, with all our security in place? Have you thought about following this thing backwards to find out if there are any holes in our protection?"

Colleen had a point, but there are things I didn't wish to discuss in front of others, so I said, "According to the men I dealt with, they saw Rebecca meeting her 'friend' in the store, and followed to see what they could see. The security guys thought nothing of two men shopping for their wives, because they never approached Rebecca until much later, and then they set it up so it seemed like Rebecca was shopping, not being blackmailed.

"She became so unpredictable that the guards simply kept her in sight, and nearby, not sure what she might do next. Now we understand why..."

We were in the "G" Four, on the way to look at an Airbus. Millie and Colleen held Millicent J. and Gregory, while I entertained James B. on my lap. Benjamin had long ago discovered a soft pillow beside the chair where I liked to sit, and he was sleeping soundly. His bowl and fresh water were nearby, making it seem like a home away from home for him. We were looking forward to buying up to a bigger jet, and hoped the one we were headed to see was right for us.

Jack accompanied us because we were all in one place, and he thought it was his personal obligation to keep us safe ... which it was. He only picked two more agents to travel with us, because our jet was too small for the whole party. We hoped to cure that starting today.

The salesman was about what you'd expect – a salesman. His faux excitement had all the attraction of a dentist's drill, without the pain. At some point, very soon, I was going to ask to speak to his manager, buy the jet, and go home. He just didn't know that yet.

"The Airbus ACJ-319 is the benchmark of large, private jets..."

I interrupted and asked him to explain to our chief pilot the maintenance scheme to maintain an Airbus, and get him up to speed on what would be needed to transition our pilots from the "G" to the Airbus.

Once he finished briefing Oliver, he droned on until even Millie lost interest, so I interrupted, again. "We're going to give ourselves the nickel tour. Please have your manager come see us ASAP," I brushed him off and helped Millie navigate the jet stairs.

Colleen, Winnie, and Jack, along with our chief pilot, Oliver Jensen, and the babies, accompanied Millie and me, as we checked out the Airbus at a dealership in California. The jet was virtually new, having less than six hundred hours on the engines. One of the really nice things we discovered was the master stateroom, complete with king sized bed, sufficient closet space, and attached, private bathroom. Millie and Colleen about swooned when they saw how beautifully it was appointed.

I could easily see how we could travel together and have plenty of room for growing babies to entertain themselves during a long flight. The main cabin was set up like a large living room, with couches, easy chairs and occasional tables for convenience. The entertainment unit had everything for everyone. Nothing seemed to have been spared.

We spent about fifteen minutes inside, on our own, until the dealer himself appeared. "Clay Robinson," he said, offering his hand to the ladies first, then Jack and Oliver, and finally, me. He obviously dismissed me as the kid they dragged along for the ride.

I introduced my party and plundered ahead. "We traveled out here in my "G" Four. It's out on your tarmac right now. I'm interested in this ship. How much is it and what will you give us in trade? The pilots have our full maintenance record and all the documentation you need to evaluate its worth."

Clay immediately decided to by-pass the salesman shtick and get down to brass tacks. When he realized I was driving this bus, he changed his tone with me, too. "Mr. Nelson, the Three-Nineteen as you see it, is the top of the Airbus line, for the intermediate sized aircraft. This one retails for fifty-one million, five hundred and thirty seven thousand dollars. The "G" Four, if it is cherry, will trade for about thirty-four million, depending on the outcome of the inspection, and engine condition.

"We can discount the Airbus for cash, and because I have an immediate buyer for your Four, I can offer you a trade difference, subject to inspections, of fourteen million dollars, not euros, not rubles, not marks.

"Just Dollars."

He gave me a look somewhere between confusion and disbelief when I asked, "Is that your BEST price? There are other jets. We can keep looking."

Clay thought that over and asked, "How are you planning to make the purchase? Is it cash, financing, or some creative buy/sell/swap sort of thing?"

Colleen had heard all she wanted to hear. "Mr. Robinson. I'm sure you have more important things to do today, than play word games. I am Brian's attorney, and we are willing to purchase this jet, today, for cash, as long as you pull your head out of your butt, and get with the program.

"Brian has other things to do, today, that are far more important than listening to you diddle with a price you know he would be crazy to take.

"Now what is your rock bottom, take or leave it trade difference?" I was so glad that she was my amazing, Amazon woman.

He seemed to get it, then. "You're that guy that pitches for the Royals and owns half the team, aren't you? I remember watching you pitch in the World Series. Kid, you were amazing!

"Give me ten minutes, my jet manager will take a quick look at your log books, and I'll give you my bottom price." He almost ran out, he was so excited.

Colleen looked at me with that victorious glint in her eye, and I pulled her in for a deep, loving kiss. "You were amazing. Thanks for being on my side." She held James, and I had David, and they grabbed each other, which caused us to have to untangle, without dropping one or both.

We took one more, long look around the jet and waited for Clay in his waiting area.

It didn't take long. Colleen lighted a fire under him, and he came right back with another man.

"Mr. Nelson, Miss Bell, this is my maintenance supervisor, Justin Yount. He says your "G" is in perfect shape, perfectly maintained and needs nothing but fuel before we can sell it, so the bottom line for us is this - we take your jet, you take ours, and pay us a difference of thirteen point eight million. That includes sales tax, and all transfer of ownership work.

"We can have the documents prepared and filed, ready to depart in three days, or we'll deliver it and pick up the "G" when we do.

"How does that sound?"

It sounded like we had a deal, and Millie nearly squealed when shook hands and Colleen went off with him to take care of the paperwork and funds.