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Authors: Dale Brown
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emergency conditions and phase of flight, similar to the B-2 bomber, then initiate a checklist at the proper time and just monitor the jet.” He swapped checklists with Cuthbert. “Normal, takeoff/land, before taxi,” he read. “When each step in the checklist is accomplished, you’ll get a green indicator; yellow is caution or wait, and red is a malfunction. Instrument displays will change on the MFDs depending on the checklist being run: engine and aircraft systems instruments for takeoff, navigation for cruise and landing, weapons status diagrams for bomb runs, fuel system for air refueling, et cetera. Pretty straightforward, easy to learn, easy to teach. Again, all off-the-shelf stuff, so it’s easy to get stuff repaired, upgraded, or reprogrammed. Parking brake lever is . . .”
“I know where the parking brake handle is, General,” Cuthbert said with a smile. “At least you haven’t automated everything on my jet.” He moved the control stick in a circle, deflected the spoilers and horizontal stabilizers to let the ground crewman know he was ready to taxi; Patrick got taxi clearance from the control tower. Guided by the ground crewman, Cuthbert turned the Excalibur around and headed down the taxiway toward the active runway.
After he had made the turn and gotten a thumbs-up from the ground crewman, telling him he was clear of all obstacles, Cuthbert said, “That linesman looks familiar, General. Isn’t that . . . is that your son, Bradley ?”
“Sure is,” Patrick said. “When was the last time you saw him?”
“A year or so after Wendy was killed,” Cutlass said solemnly. After a moment of respectful silence for Patrick’s ex-wife, murdered by Libyan terrorists many years ago, he added, “Jesus, he’s a big kid.” He looked at Patrick. “I heard he got an appointment to the Zoo from President Phoenix himself.”
“He did.”
“So . . . pardon my curiosity, sir, but shouldn’t he be in Colorado Springs getting hell beat out of him?”
“He had an . . . unfortunate and ill-advised disagreement with an upperclassman,” Patrick said. “They asked him to depart during Second Beast and not return.”
“Sorry, sir. What was the disagreement about?”
“He won’t say,” Patrick said moodily. “I think he was provoked into an altercation, but he refuses to explain his side, even on a direct order from the Academy commandant. The second-classman said Brad refused instruction and correction, misused his training rifle, then attacked him without warning. Doesn’t sound like him at all, but he offered no explanation.” Patrick’s face and tone of voice were stony as he added, “So he’s out.”
“That’s too bad,” Cuthbert said. “What’s his plan now?”
“I thought I’d give him the rest of the summer to get his bearings and make a plan,” Patrick said. “He knows how to operate the power cart, fuel trucks, and tugs, and how to marshal and tow aircraft, so he’s helping out on the flight line for a little folding money. But the moment I see him break out the video games instead of working, he’s out on his keester.”
“Don’t be too tough on him, sir,” Cuthbert said. “I’ve got two daughters that both dropped out of college. I was bugged that they didn’t seem to do anything much with their lives afterward and I made the mistake of telling them so. The first got pregnant. The second . . . joined the Army.”
“Oh, no, ” Patrick deadpanned.
“Actually, it’s all good,” Cutlass said. “The first is married to a dentist and has given me two grandchildren, and the second is a first lieutenant flying Chinooks. A little friendly advice: nudge, but nudge carefully. Don’t be a general officer to your kids.”
“Advice well taken, Cutlass,” Patrick said. “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it, sir,” Cuthbert said. He looked around the cockpit and out the forward windscreen at the air refueling receptacle aiming markings on the nose. He
“I know where the parking brake handle is, General,” Cuthbert said with a smile. “At least you haven’t automated everything on my jet.” He moved the control stick in a circle, deflected the spoilers and horizontal stabilizers to let the ground crewman know he was ready to taxi; Patrick got taxi clearance from the control tower. Guided by the ground crewman, Cuthbert turned the Excalibur around and headed down the taxiway toward the active runway.
After he had made the turn and gotten a thumbs-up from the ground crewman, telling him he was clear of all obstacles, Cuthbert said, “That linesman looks familiar, General. Isn’t that . . . is that your son, Bradley ?”
“Sure is,” Patrick said. “When was the last time you saw him?”
“A year or so after Wendy was killed,” Cutlass said solemnly. After a moment of respectful silence for Patrick’s ex-wife, murdered by Libyan terrorists many years ago, he added, “Jesus, he’s a big kid.” He looked at Patrick. “I heard he got an appointment to the Zoo from President Phoenix himself.”
“He did.”
“So . . . pardon my curiosity, sir, but shouldn’t he be in Colorado Springs getting hell beat out of him?”
“He had an . . . unfortunate and ill-advised disagreement with an upperclassman,” Patrick said. “They asked him to depart during Second Beast and not return.”
“Sorry, sir. What was the disagreement about?”
“He won’t say,” Patrick said moodily. “I think he was provoked into an altercation, but he refuses to explain his side, even on a direct order from the Academy commandant. The second-classman said Brad refused instruction and correction, misused his training rifle, then attacked him without warning. Doesn’t sound like him at all, but he offered no explanation.” Patrick’s face and tone of voice were stony as he added, “So he’s out.”
“That’s too bad,” Cuthbert said. “What’s his plan now?”
“I thought I’d give him the rest of the summer to get his bearings and make a plan,” Patrick said. “He knows how to operate the power cart, fuel trucks, and tugs, and how to marshal and tow aircraft, so he’s helping out on the flight line for a little folding money. But the moment I see him break out the video games instead of working, he’s out on his keester.”
“Don’t be too tough on him, sir,” Cuthbert said. “I’ve got two daughters that both dropped out of college. I was bugged that they didn’t seem to do anything much with their lives afterward and I made the mistake of telling them so. The first got pregnant. The second . . . joined the Army.”
“Oh, no, ” Patrick deadpanned.
“Actually, it’s all good,” Cutlass said. “The first is married to a dentist and has given me two grandchildren, and the second is a first lieutenant flying Chinooks. A little friendly advice: nudge, but nudge carefully. Don’t be a general officer to your kids.”
“Advice well taken, Cutlass,” Patrick said. “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it, sir,” Cuthbert said. He looked around the cockpit and out the forward windscreen at the air refueling receptacle aiming markings on the nose. He
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