Thin Blood Thick Water (Clueless Resolutions Book 2) by W B Garalt Page A

compact restroom. On this flight there was no attendant. Self-service was recommended.
    Chip and Max settled themselves into the cockpit and Max proceeded to set the parameters for their flight on the auto-pilot system while Chip radioed control for permission to take-off. Permission to taxi was given with notice to hold at runway 32 and Chip waved to the ground attendant to pull the wheel chocks. From inside the plane the muffled roar emitting from the two aft-mounted jet engines could be heard, and felt, as the Lear 45 began to move to the taxiway.
    After holding for six minutes to wait for an incoming flight to land, the ‘cleared for take-off’ direction came from the control tower. The executive jet accelerated down the runway at full throttle and, at an indicated air speed of 91 knots, the Nova Scotia-bound USAP group of specialists lifted off the runway and climbed into the bright blue New York sky.
    Maggie had flown commercially several times but she had never flown in a private executive jet. So far she was very impressed with the fast check-in, customs check, boarding and take-off provided by the concierge service. Of course, she imagined that the cost of maintaining a private maintenance/service contract for the Jet, in addition to the purchase price, was beyond most organizations, not to mention all but a few individuals. “ You get what you can pay for ,” she rationalized silently.
    Around fifteen minutes into the flight, Max came back from the cockpit to pass along Chip’s recommendation to the ‘passengers’ that, since there was no flight attendant aboard, they should help themselves to the stock of snacks and beverages in the rear section of the airplane.
    “That sounds like a capital idea,” Mario exclaimed, clasping his hands in front of him enthusiastically, does anybody else want refreshments?” Looks of indecision dominated the glances from the other three passengers. “Well okay, I’m in,” continued Mario as he got out of his seat.
    “I’ll have a bag of pretzels and a coke,” ordered Lamar. “Bring me a beer,” Brad said.
    “Oh, just great,” Mario answered with faked annoyance. “Okay, so everybody clams up just to get me to be the waiter!”
    Maggie, sensing that the timing was right for her to gain some camaraderie with Max’s fellow Partners, raised her hands signaling Mario to stop. “Sit back down Mario, I fit the stewardess role better than you,” she told him with a motherly tone. Turning to Max as she stood up, she asked, “Do you and Chip want anything?”
    “If you make two iced coffees, I’ll wait and take it up front.” he answered.
    “I’ll serve, you go fly the plane,” she directed, walking toward the service section.
    As Maggie moved toward the rear service section the men gave her a round of applause and some big foolish grins. Blushing slightly, Maggie gave them a backward glance and smiled. “What a bunch of clowns!” she retorted, as laughter resounded through the cabin. Half turning and shouting back from the pilot’s seat, Chip asked, “Is everything okay back there?”
    “Everything’s under control, captain,” Max reported as he started toward the cockpit. “The iced coffee order is in.”
    The mood among the crew seemed relaxed but Max sensed that the journey had some form of importance beyond the obvious.  All he could do was stick to the main objective of researching the Bickford Lab acquisition and stay aware of whatever was taking place around he and Maggie until they were back to their ‘home ground’.
    After taking the requests for refreshments and delivering the orders in the passenger cabin, Maggie made the iced coffees requested by Max and Chip. She delivered the order to the cockpit and received overly-gratuitous thanks for her service.
    “You can look forward to a real generous tip because of this,” Chip remarked, with a wink to Maggie. Chip was obviously a seasoned pilot with close past relationships with stewardesses