Read Online The Last Town (Book 1): Rise of the Dead by Stephen Knight - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Stephen Knight
Tags: Zombies
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persons around the country, you know?” The soldier pointed toward the first Chinook as it slowly advanced toward the parking garage. “Okay, you guys might want to stand back a bit, these Chinooks have a rotor wash that moves at about a hundred ten miles an hour. Let us get our vehicles out, and then we’ll figure out the surface movement to your police station.”
“Surface movement?” Reese asked. “We can just drive or walk there, Captain.”
“Nothing’s as simple as that, Detective. Once you have the military in the mix, everything gets complex.”
“Good to know,” Reese said, thinking that things were complex enough already.
SINGLE TREE, CA
Norton had just watched the lone FBO attendant at Single Tree’s airport tow his Phenom into the hangar and was making to follow him in to do a final inspection when the roar of approaching jet engines caught his attention. He turned at the hangar threshold just in time to see a Gulfstream G650 coast in on its incredibly wide wings, its big flaps lowered like two tapering billboards to slow the massive jet so it could land. The engines went from a roar to a full-on bellow as the massive jet’s thrust reversers were activated. Along with judicious braking from the pilots, the sleek, sixty-seven-million-dollar aircraft slowed to taxiing speed well before it reached the end of the runway and executed a smart one-hundred-eighty-degree turn so it could amble back to the taxiway. Its landing lights gleamed brightly in the late afternoon sun.
“Well, I guess you’re not the only jet driver to come in today,” said the FBO attendant, a slender Mexican man named Enrico. “You ever meet Mister Corbett, Mister Norton?”
Norton nodded. “Oh, yeah. He’s okay once you get past the sourpuss Vietnam veteran suffering from PTSD. We actually worked together, once. I hired him as a consultant for that TV series I did five years ago—”
“The one about the Marines? Khe Sanh ? On HBO?”
“That’s the one.”
“That show was awesome , Mister Norton! I didn’t know you did that! How was it working with Mister Corbett?”
Norton only shrugged. Truth be told, Norton and Corbett got along all right, though the older man had no trouble telling Norton that some of his tricks were all bullshit to please the suits at HBO and grab some ratings. It had been the network’s highest-rated miniseries since Band of Brothers over a decade before, so Corbett had apparently been right.
As the jet drew nearer to the parking area, Enrico grabbed the orange wands.
“Sorry, Mister Norton, I’ve gotta go,” he said, tucking the wands under one arm so he could grab his earmuffs with both hands and slide them over his ears.
“No problem, Enrico. Thanks, man.”
Enrico hopped on the small tow motor and drove it out of the hangar. Norton was happy to see he’d had the presence of mind of uncouple it from the Phenom’s nose gear before taking off. Norton watched the big, beautiful Gulfstream roll into the parking area as Enrico parked the tow motor and hopped off. Using the wands, he guided the silver-on-white jet into position on the pad, its two large turbofan engines wailing. It finally came to a halt, and the turbines wound down into a descending growl. Norton had to admit, he was envious. Corbett’s jet was one beautiful bird, but it had been built for men and women who preferred the cabin to the cockpit. Norton’s Phenom 100 suited him just fine.
He turned away from the big Gulfstream as its boarding ramp descended and tended to his own aircraft. The plane had already been refueled, so that was taken care of. He placed chocks in front and behind all of the tires, put the shrouds over the pitot tubes, and using a small stepladder, placed the bright red plugs into the engine intakes, just to ensure no dirt or debris managed to enter the engines. There was nothing worse than sucking some foreign object into a jet engine where the turbine blades were rotating several
“Surface movement?” Reese asked. “We can just drive or walk there, Captain.”
“Nothing’s as simple as that, Detective. Once you have the military in the mix, everything gets complex.”
“Good to know,” Reese said, thinking that things were complex enough already.
SINGLE TREE, CA
Norton had just watched the lone FBO attendant at Single Tree’s airport tow his Phenom into the hangar and was making to follow him in to do a final inspection when the roar of approaching jet engines caught his attention. He turned at the hangar threshold just in time to see a Gulfstream G650 coast in on its incredibly wide wings, its big flaps lowered like two tapering billboards to slow the massive jet so it could land. The engines went from a roar to a full-on bellow as the massive jet’s thrust reversers were activated. Along with judicious braking from the pilots, the sleek, sixty-seven-million-dollar aircraft slowed to taxiing speed well before it reached the end of the runway and executed a smart one-hundred-eighty-degree turn so it could amble back to the taxiway. Its landing lights gleamed brightly in the late afternoon sun.
“Well, I guess you’re not the only jet driver to come in today,” said the FBO attendant, a slender Mexican man named Enrico. “You ever meet Mister Corbett, Mister Norton?”
Norton nodded. “Oh, yeah. He’s okay once you get past the sourpuss Vietnam veteran suffering from PTSD. We actually worked together, once. I hired him as a consultant for that TV series I did five years ago—”
“The one about the Marines? Khe Sanh ? On HBO?”
“That’s the one.”
“That show was awesome , Mister Norton! I didn’t know you did that! How was it working with Mister Corbett?”
Norton only shrugged. Truth be told, Norton and Corbett got along all right, though the older man had no trouble telling Norton that some of his tricks were all bullshit to please the suits at HBO and grab some ratings. It had been the network’s highest-rated miniseries since Band of Brothers over a decade before, so Corbett had apparently been right.
As the jet drew nearer to the parking area, Enrico grabbed the orange wands.
“Sorry, Mister Norton, I’ve gotta go,” he said, tucking the wands under one arm so he could grab his earmuffs with both hands and slide them over his ears.
“No problem, Enrico. Thanks, man.”
Enrico hopped on the small tow motor and drove it out of the hangar. Norton was happy to see he’d had the presence of mind of uncouple it from the Phenom’s nose gear before taking off. Norton watched the big, beautiful Gulfstream roll into the parking area as Enrico parked the tow motor and hopped off. Using the wands, he guided the silver-on-white jet into position on the pad, its two large turbofan engines wailing. It finally came to a halt, and the turbines wound down into a descending growl. Norton had to admit, he was envious. Corbett’s jet was one beautiful bird, but it had been built for men and women who preferred the cabin to the cockpit. Norton’s Phenom 100 suited him just fine.
He turned away from the big Gulfstream as its boarding ramp descended and tended to his own aircraft. The plane had already been refueled, so that was taken care of. He placed chocks in front and behind all of the tires, put the shrouds over the pitot tubes, and using a small stepladder, placed the bright red plugs into the engine intakes, just to ensure no dirt or debris managed to enter the engines. There was nothing worse than sucking some foreign object into a jet engine where the turbine blades were rotating several
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