An Angel's Fix Pt. 08

That got Ashley interested. "Fine, what should I wear?"

Kim hopped up, texting on her way to get her wallet and keys. "T-shirt, pony tail, jeans, and tennies."

Ashley felt Kim's urgency, and curiosity fueled her now, so she pranced up the stairs to change her pants and get her shoes. "Are we stopping for lunch?" she yelled down while shimmying into the denim.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Kim called, now at the foot of the stairs.

"Well, I want to play at the pavilion to watch the sunset tonight. Weather is gorgeous today," she said while slipping into her white canvas shoes.

Kim smirked. "Oh I think you'll make it to the beach fast enough."

Ashley stopped halfway down the stairs, the wall to her left catching her eye. "That's a new one. Really pretty."

Kim groaned in frustration. "Joe had Cindy bid for it three months ago, it's been here since you got back from FSU. Come on!"

The guard at the base gate eyed the sticker on Kim's windshield, but motioned her to stop. "Sorry, miss. Random check...oh hey Ashley!" He looked again at the driver. "Oh, hey Kim! I don't mean to delay you, but could you pop the trunk?"

Kim hit the button on her dash and wondered if this was the last time the remote release would work, her car wearing out. It was not surprising that the guard recognized them, he was assigned security for the prom. They heard him tap the carpet of the trunk randomly, then he closed the lid and came back around.

"Okay, you're all set. Going to your dad's office?" he asked while looking at Ashley.

Kim shook her head. "Seeing the Blue Angels today."

The guard was about to automatically say that there was no practice for the Blues on Saturdays, as he did for the tourists that poured through his gate. Then he remembered the commander's daughter was in the car. "Very well, do you know the way?"

"Sure do! Thanks sir!" Kim said with a flirty smile.

Kim drove past the museum, and turned at the driveway for Sherman Field. She parked and Ashley walked beside her.

"What's going on?" she asked.

Kim smiled. "Your dad said you loved watching the Blue Angels when they did shows near San Diego. He thought you'd enjoy a close up look, so he pulled some strings for a private tour."

Ashley did love the Blues, and her dad would take her to shows whenever they were close. A private tour of their facilities would blow away the autographed posters he gave her every year. "Dad did?"

Kim laughed lightly. "Yup, this is his birthday present to you."

"Wow."

"Oh ho. You don't know the half of it."

They opened the door to the offices and sure enough, her dad plus another officer greeted them. The commander gave her a hug, kiss, and birthday wish, and his companion introduced himself as the commanding officer of the Blue Angel operation.

"I know it's early for your birthday," her dad started.

His fellow officer helped lend credence. "But this was the best date for you and us."

Ashley sighed happily. "Yeah, I sure didn't have any plans for today." She hugged her dad. "Thanks! Best. Birthday. Ever."

He returned the hug. "Well, we'll see if you say the same thing after y'all are done. I'm expected back at the office, but I'll see you in a couple of hours." He released her and told the CO to take care of her.

Ashley was fascinated to learn the man was the same rank as her father, and surprised that was the lead pilot AND commander of the Flight Demonstration Squadron. A gentleman she guessed to be 15 to 20 years her dad's junior, and yet he was in charge of about 130 aviators and crewmen. She surmised things had to be that way, quick promotions to aviation officers, because performance flight was not an old man's career. She was intrigued, also, to learn the Blues had a Marine officer on their team, and one in-waiting, who currently filled the role of advance pilot and narrator for the shows. An all-Marine crew flew and maintained "Bert", the C-130 transport aircraft assigned to the Blue Angel squadron. That team worked well with the jet crews to accomplish the mission of the day or week, but Ashley gathered an unsaid sense that they generally kept to themselves.

"What's that like?" she asked "Boss," the moniker given to the officer the day he takes command of the squadron. "Commanding people from two different branches."

He chuckled. "Well, the Marines and Navy aren't completely separate. We all work well with each other and get the job done to the best of our abilities."

Ashley stopped walking and looked at him incredulously.

He affected a knowing smile. "Right, you're an officer's daughter, so you see bull -" He caught himself. Ashley's personality seemed to make it much too easy to be comfortable around her. "You see crap from miles away. You'll meet Cordill later, since he's our training and safety officer. He's wholly part of our family. We tease and joke with him, and he zings them right back at us. As for the Fat Albert crew, well, they're all great guys. I mean that sincerely. Great guys and gals. There's no fights or anything." He paused to chose his words carefully. "Well, let's just say they trust we'll get our part done, just as we trust they'll do theirs."

They entered the hanger and everyone in view stopped what they were doing to stand and salute their superior officer. He returned it and released them back to what they were doing. Ashley suspected from the hair of hesitation in the initial salute, business-as-usual dictated that Boss would come and go as he pleased without the formalities, but the crews must have been informed a naval officer's daughter would be "onboard" today. She cocked a flattered grin at her assumption.

He introduced her to the maintenance chief and said he would meet her again when she was satisfied in the hanger.

Ashley raised her eyebrows. "Satisfied, Commander? Just what do you think I'll be doing in here?"

Her clear voice, though purposely held in lower volumes, still carried and everyone in the hanger heard the teasing comment. A hearty multi-voiced guffaw echoed in the large steel and concrete space.

Flushing red, the commander cleared his throat. "Perhaps I could clarify, Miss Ashley." He noted she purposely flashed her ring by swiping back auburn strands of hair from her face with her left hand. "Mrs. Smith, we were told of your unease after a near tragic landing last fall."

"Ashley." She said, partly in attempt to break the overly formal address, and also partly to interrupt an unpleasant memory. "Not Miss, nor Mrs. Smith. I'll answer to Ashley, please."

"Very well, Ashley. Roberts thought you might feel better about planes if you were around, well, planes. You have full access, you can ask anyone here anything. If the subject is overly sensitive, they may not answer, but non-answers should be minimal, as this aircraft type has been in service for quite a while now." He excused himself and returned to the offices.

Kim had been with her the entire time, watching everything through her cellphone screen. She lowered the phone to start recording a new video, the movement making Ashley aware of her. At that point, Ashley realized that the commander never addressed her friend. Also, it dawned on her that maybe Jasmine had conned or instructed Kim to record the whole visit. She wheeled at that thought.

"You set this up!"

The accusing tone made Kim step back. "What? No, this was your dad's idea!"

Ashley pursed her lips to consider whether there was truth to the statement, then she decided to just roll with it, no matter which side of the truth Kim was on. She turned back to the chief, reintroduced herself and asked for his tourist speech. He paused with a smile, as obviously she knew he had one, and he delivered it with practiced precision. Through it, Ashley learned the basic abilities of the flagship aircraft for the Navy. The one 'wow' moment for her during the speech was when she learned that although these "blue jets" were stripped down for shows, in only 72 hours, they could be returned to "gray jets" with full military capability, if there were a national emergency.

"Returned?" She asked in confusion.

The chief laughed. "It doesn't make financial sense for DOD to buy a brand new F/A 18 for millions of dollars, just to have it fly some stunts. No, these ladies are retired from the fleet to finish out their career with us before they are scrapped for spare parts or put on sticks."

Kim snickered at her visual of a sleek blue jet limping along the skies with a walker.

Ashley figured out the terminology somewhat quickly, but knew what Kim was picturing. "That means static displays for a museum, base, rest area, or something."

"Clever girl," the chief rewarded.

Ashley began walking toward the Number 3 plane that was being worked on. Her guide didn't resist, and walked along with her. She asked what the most vulnerable parts were, and he shot her a look. She quickly elaborated that she meant parts that were most likely to break through normal operations. He relaxed and said they had to be especially watchful over pieces that took the bulk of the stresses of flight. Engines, of course, but also the control surface mechanisms, as well as the structures of the wings and tail and the beams that support them.

He gave an overall view of what they inspect and adjust after each flight, and introduced her to the enlisted mechanics working that day. Ashley was allowed to ask each member what they were currently doing and why. She peered over each shoulder for a bit, and conversed with them during each of her visits. She was encouraged to ask as much as she wanted, and to watch however long suited her, but Ashley kept each visit short, not wanting to become a nuisance.

She and Kim reunited with the commander in the offices, and he answered a few more of her curiosities about the operation. Then he suggested she take a look at a show-ready, freshly polished jet. They entered a pull-through hanger, similar to a car wash bay, and the two-seat number 7 jet was parked there. The mercury vapor ceiling lights reflected off several angles, and it appeared the slick plane was encrusted with diamonds. The royal blue looked almost black, the gold accents popped, and even the stark white carrier-ready landing gear seemed to glow on its own.

Ashley trailed a hand along the wet-looking skin as she walked, fingertips barely brushing the surface. "I've got a truck at the house that can use your team's skills," she joked.

Then she jumped, as several more voices were laughing than she expected. Four more of the pilots and a number of the maintenance crew had joined them. Ashley charmingly returned their introductions.

The Marine officer who introduced himself as Captain Cordill stepped towards her. "She'll do nearly twice the speed of sound, guaranteeing you'll make it to work on-time, if you're not already late. Her handling is like none other."

Ashley giggled. "You sound like a car salesman."

The officer smiled. He affected a toothy southern drawl. "Well, miss, if ya want, I'll do ep de papper werk. Sure we ken come ep wid..." His buddies started snorting, breaking his concentration and causing him to laugh as well. "I'm sure we can come up with some payments that would be affordable. Your great-great-great-grandkids will have it paid off before they leave college!" Ashley smiled politely, and Kim cringed behind her cell phone. Cordill sobered up, realizing his joke fell short. "Well, you want to take it for a test drive?"

Ashley looked at him for a moment, as if considering, then spinning on her heel toward the outside, she called, "JOE! I know you're out there! What did you sign me up for?"

The group inside laughed heartily. Kim put down her phone, stopping the recording. "Ashley," she said, "Joe's contacts are with the Air Force."

About that time, Joe appeared from where Ashley was expecting. Alongside him were her dad, Jasmine, Jill, Cindy, and Doug. Most of the men in the hanger saluted when they saw Commander Roberts. Joe said calmly, "This really was Commander's doing. But, if you wanted, I could've gotten you a ride with the Thunderbirds."

Ashley shook her head in a shiver of disgust and poked out her tongue with a "bleh." The Navy guys cheered her family-engrained loyalty. She looked at Cordill. "You really want me to fly with you?"

The answer had her in one of the meeting rooms, signing a waiver and receiving instructions on how to keep from blacking out during turns that would occasionally approach 7.6 G's. He explained the cadence her pilot would use to let her know a particularly taxing maneuver was about to happen, as well as when to disobey the "hands off" rule regarding the handles marked with yellow and black tape. She was handed a navy blue flight suit and instructed to change from her street clothes into the uniform.

Ashley zipped up the suit that, despite being the smallest they had, still had more than plenty of room for her to swim around in. She looked in the bathroom mirror and redid her pony tail, choosing to braid it in an effort to keep it mostly in place. How did I end up here, she thought. This was going much too fast. But, her inner monologue continued, I gotta admit that even without the curves, I do look hot in this. Why the hell not, she thought as she turned the door handle.

She emerged into the hangar and found all her loved ones there, applauding her. She turned to the training pilot and asked if he remembered the waiver she signed saying she was flying of her own free will. He did, and she sighed "I lied" while glancing at her friends and family to make the point. He laughed, but then stopped suddenly before telling her that if she was coerced in any way, she should say so now, and they could cancel the flight. Ashley realized how serious the situation could be. She thought for a minute before stating that she really did want to do this. He nodded and instructed her to go ahead and climb the ladder to sit in the cockpit. Ashley considered making a joke to mask her nervousness by stepping in the front seat, but since her previous attempt at humor fell short, she decided to just step onto the back seat. She sat down, and her mentor commented she looked like a pro, as most civilians attempt to avoid the seat and step directly onto the floorboard. Ashley figures it was a kind comment to settle her nerves, so she flashes an appreciative grin.

A maintenance officer pushes a rolling ladder to the other side and soon four hands are working to fasten her into the 12 point harness. After each adjustment, she's asked how everything feels, if the belts feel even, then they ask her to wiggle a bit, and the adjustments are redone. A few tugs and wiggles later, Ashley felt as if she and the seat were one. The second ladder was rolled away and she was instructed to practice her high-g breathing. Pushing her legs against the floor with all her might, she inhaled and held the breath with the funny-sounding "hick" of forcing her diaphragm to hold the blood in her head. Ashley's face feels like it's going to explode, and the trainer nods his satisfaction when her face turns deep red. He goes on to explain the various displays and dials before her, and points out the yellow and black striped handles, reminding her, "hands off."

"What if I pull it?" she asked apprehensively.

"Well, rockets will make you exit the aircraft. The pilot will stay put, and circle back to land," he says plainly.

"Oh," she responds.

"Remember, if the plane gets into trouble, your pilot will call out Eject, Eject, Eject! After the third Eject, pull the ring between your knees. Your seat will do the rest, and we'll come get you shortly."

The repetitious call brings back the recent memory of the bad landing, but Ashley doesn't say anything.

"Any questions?" the captain asks.

"Okay, can I change my mind?" She laughs nervously.

"We've already put in the effort! It's too late now." He's serious, but a smile calms her somewhat. "Don't worry. He'll take good care of you. There's two airsick bags, one here, and here. Please use them if you have to. Trust me, you don't want that falling back on you if you blow when you're upside down."

"Ugh." Her stomach turns at the thought. "Okay, I'll try to remember that, thanks."

"If you get to feeling bad, let him know and he'll level off to let you recover for a few minutes. Enjoy the flight!" he says before putting the helmet on her and descending the ladder.

Her pilot appeared up the ladder and deftly alighted his seat. The same maintenance officer who helped buckle her in was up a second later, attaching the pilot to the plane. "Have a good flight," he said to them both.

"Thanks," she replied.

"Glad to be here," the pilot cheerfully says.

A push vehicle towed them outdoors, then some buttons were punched, switches were flicked and an electric motor wound up before the port side engine whistled to life. The starboard engine began its sequence a few seconds later. Butterflies took flight in Ashley's stomach, her heart raced, and when the canopy mechanically slid into place, her skin turned cold.

"No turning back now," Ashley mumbled.

The pilot received the 'chocks clear' signal from the ground crew member, and he edged the throttle forward. "Nope, no turning back now," he said.

Ashley jumped when the voice crackled through her headset. "Sorry, I didn't know you could hear me."

Some radio chatter played through, and the pilot spoke after it ended. "No worries. I'll get to the pleasantries after they help me with the pre-flight checks."

They rolled into the bright sunlight, and Ashley squinted. She was happy they loaded up in the hangar, it would be broiling to sit through getting strapped in, if out on the tarmac. "How do I get my visor down?"

The pilot stopped the plane, set the brakes, made a gesture to the man outside and replied, "I'd rather you keep yours up, so I can make sure you're still with me."

For the first time, Ashley noticed a thin mirror above the pilot and saw his eyes smiling at her through it. She nodded and stayed quiet to allow him to concentrate. His eyes fell ahead, and she remembered from watching airshows that he was following crisp hand signals from the crew member on the ground. Turning, she saw the control surfaces flicking and responding to the pilot's commands. Soon, the engines increased, and a large cloud of smoke drifted around them.

"Smoke system test," the voice crackled as if it knew she was alarmed. Then it made a call to the tower for weather and clearance. After the reply, he introduced himself, and Ashley remembered from earlier that he was the lead solo pilot of the team. He explained that the narrator usually takes the VIP's out, but a family matter had him out of town for the day. "Don't worry," he said. "I used to be narrator, so I think I remember the spiel." He looked up at her through the mirror.

"I'm a VIP?"

He chuckled. "You're sitting in that seat, aren't you? So, what would you like? The tour bus trip or the full package?"

"Oh, what the hell. Give me the full package. If I die, better fast than slow, right?"

He gave a light chuckle. "We're not going to let you die. Full package it is. In fact, I might not remember all of the routine, so there might be some extras in there for you." He reviews the cadence he'll call before maneuvers, and assures her that if she asks, he'll settle out and let her recover. She nodded her agreement, and he started to taxi. Her heart fluttered in nervous excitement when he requested "rapid ascent to six five hundred" upon take-off.

A few seconds, the tower squawked in her ears, "Cleared for take off, rapid climb to six five hundred approved." Her pilot acknowledged the tower and received instructions to contact Pensacola Traffic upon exit of NAS airspace. "You own the airspace and field, good day, sir!" the tower concluded.