5:16 am: “who the f### (self-censored) is flying this low to the ground in a jet??” I exclaim silently as a deafening whoosh surely has woken up Riverside, Moreno Valley, and Perris.
I know that sound though. Those are thrust reversers, so someone’s landed at my airfield, without my permission.
Now I’m peeved.
When I head outside to figure out the commotion, I’m greeted by a very loud APU and a single crew member disembarking as the pilots do checklists and flip switches in the cockpit.
Stepping out is a Navy commander, evidenced by their dress.
Guess I can’t be peeved, so instead, I salute as they walk toward me.
“Mr. Scimitar! At ease!”
“Sir?” I ask firmly. “[Say] Intentions?”
“Ms. Rainbow Dash cordially requests your presence in Pensacola. We are your transport.”
“Aye aye, sir. Duration of stay?”
“1 night.”
“Permission to pack an overnight bag, sir.”
“Granted.”
“Thank you, sir.” I say as I run inside to grab two changes of clothes and some drinks before securing the base.
“Question, sir.” I query once I’m onboard.
“Go ahead.”
“Why send a Poseidon? No Hercs or Clippers available?”
“Closest on call. We’re from NAS North Island.”
“Is that the one on Coronado?”
“Yessiree.”
“Were you heading to Jacksonville by chance?”
“Yes we were. How’d you know?”
“Lucky guess. If you weren’t going to Hickham, I’d guess you were en route to Atlantic patrols or beyond.”
“You’re sharp, kid.”
“Kid?” I think to myself. “Probably just standard jargon.”
Nevertheless, I ask no further questions as I take my seat and stick my bag on the seat next to me.
Feeling quite a bit awkward being a passenger on a military jet no less, never mind it’s a P-8 Poseidon (I always did wonder why raked wingtips weren’t an option), I anxiously sit back and get comfortable as I can as they fire up and get going.
“Sir?”
“How can I help you, Scimitar?”
“Under whose orders are we operating if Commander in Chief has absconded?”
“SecDef is next in the chain of command, and he’s talking to the embassies. As for the transports themselves, HS Sec is working with the rest of DHS.”
“Can I expect a brief or debrief on the whole situation?”
“Affirmative. Crash is running the show, sort of. That’s why she asked for you.”
“I can assure I have resources, but I’m the only pilot. You would need to communicate with airlines and recruit them.”
“I’m only on a need to know, so what I’ve told you is about the extent of my knowledge. Crash will get you up to speed.”
“Yes sir.” I say with another salute.
“At ease. I appreciate the gestures, but they won’t be necessary.”
I return to my seat and try to catch up on some z’s. For being a military transport plane, there are some unexpected creature comforts. Nevertheless, for the few hours in the air, I try and relax ahead of what’s surely to be a challenging few weeks ahead.
As soon as we park, I get a shot of adrenaline and clean up a bit before stepping onto the base. Not leaving the officer’s side, I wait for Rainbow, who appears to be running slightly late.
Just as I get escorted to what appears to be a board room, Rainbow enters.
“Morning Max.” She begins with an air of urgency. “Sorry I’m late. Let me get you caught up. SecDef is working with all of our embassies to try and arrange for flights for stranded citizens unable to catch mainstream flights home before a hypothetical travel ban pops up. HS is trying to find ways to get those flights into systems or airports that are slot-restricted. I know you have a massive fleet you aren’t using, but I also know you are working with Delta in receiving their old and retiring ships.”
“Yeah I am. What are you suggesting?”
“I think you know where I’m going with this.”
“You want me to use my fleet to bring them home?”
“Yeah!”
“Small problem. I‘m the only pilot.”
“So?“
“I also don’t have the ability to outfit any of the A380s I have to transport 853 people.”
“That’s why we’re here. This is a bit of a rogue op.”
“Does this mean we’re breaking the law?”
“I won’t answer that. Come on, officers are waiting for us.”
When we enter the briefing room, I swallow as best I can, but instead audibly gulp.
I sit opposite Rainbow at the foot of the large table. In the back is a “live” world map with quite a few countries illuminated in green.
The picture then shifts to a dual list. One side shows countries listed as “Approved” and the other as “Pending.”
“Good morning everyone!” Soarin’ belts out as he takes the pulpit. “Thank you all for coming. As I’m sure you’ve been made aware, our own Commander in Chief has removed himself from the narrative. Some of his other staff members however disagree. SecDef has been working diligently with all our diplomatic missions to obtain approval for repatriation flights and start working with local authorities to accommodate these requests. In charge of some of the flight coordination at Commander Rainbow Dash’s recommendation with the approval of Admiral Thunderlane is Split Scimitar.
“While we have approval from a few of our major embassies, notable countries still awaiting a response are Australia, the Philippines, Indonesia, India, and Turkey. Tentatively, we expect approval from all of our embassies and consulates notwithstanding those in either Qatar or Saudi Arabia, as both of those countries are dealing with crises of their own.
“While not all regulatory approval has been granted to authorize these orders, all of the top officers across all our branches, including the space force, will be meeting in Arlington today to hopefully come together and acquiesce in this necessity to bring stranded Americans home.”
“Before we depart for JBA,” one of the Navy Admirals interjects, “do we have a name for this mission?”
“Operation…”
“Spiteful brakevan?” I half-chuckle to myself. “Muckle nuisance?”
(You can tell where my mind’s at.)
“March Madness?” Comes a suggestion from the back.
“Seems a bit on the nose, but it’s a working title for now. Operation March Madness is a-go!”
“You comin’?” Rainbow asks.
“I don’t have the security clearance to get into either Andrews or the Pentagon.”
“We ran that before you were picked up. You’re clear.”
“Wow. Running a security background check without consent, huh?”
“This is a hush-hush Mission, dodo.”
“As you can tell, I’m bothered.”
“I knew you were gonna say that.”
As the P-8 that shuttled me here has left, we load the other kind of military 737, a C-40 Clipper. Not actually commanded by Soarin.
Plunking my duffel in an overhead bin, I sit down and belt up, RD taking the window and Soarin alone across from us. I then grab my last bottle of water and keep it handy as my heart rate climbs ever so slightly. I get to be one of a very select few civilians to fly into Andrews Air Force Base. For a good cause.
Touching down with no reverse thrust, we’re soon in a motorcade to Arlington, where my heart starts pounding.
“Don’t worry Max. This is my mission. Hopefully we’ll have some more diplomatic approvals so we can start gathering information on passenger lists. Don’t want to send a small aircraft where we need a large one.”
“Of course not. I’ll be calling on all airlines as charters. But I won’t make any calls until you get approval.”
“Can we get Mr. President to approve it? I don’t know. This mission will pretty much be the biggest display of whether or not he cares about his citizens.”
“Well, when you put it like that.”
“Mr. Secretary, how many embassies do we have approved?”
“256 and still counting. Most of those still awaiting approval are still not yet open for the day.”
“Good to hear.”
“Those that have already approved are accepting applications for flights home. Some of our major ones including the UK, France, Spain, and Japan have already well-exceeded the initial expectations.”
“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”
“Absolutely. I myself can’t be having to bring all these citizens myself? Surely I could just send a charter request to the various airlines and find a way for the government and I to split the bill.”
“That’s what we have to plan, but Congress and the President himself will still have to approve it.”
“It sounds like everyone in this room is on board with it though.”
“All in favor of Mr. Scimitar’s assistance in bringing Americans home, say ‘aye.’”
All except one form a consensus, the only objection being that he wants to see the “verbatim” agreement on the terms of the deal. Fortunately for us, the bill is only awaiting dollar amounts. That’s where I have to take my most educated guesses on how much is a decent margin so that neither the government nor me are spending too much additional out of pocket.
To get the ball rolling, I send an email to the COO of Delta so he can pass it along to the rest of management. I don’t expect a reply for a day or two, so after making approximation based on the various aircraft that can be sent, I present a tentative amount of $20 Million, split $10M apiece. Hopefully the amount is close, but I give the go ahead with that amount. Wasting no time to send the documents to each chamber, the only thing we can do at this point is wait for Congress and the Oval Office to review it.
SecDef then brings Rainbow and I to his mess facility. Since Congress is in session, it could become a last-minute submission. If it doesn’t make it, I’m gonna have to bunk up here, likely.
In any case, since I already have my clearance, I shan’t leave until closing. Nervously though, I wait for news of the spending approval. Slightly problematic I realized after reviewing it that the money the government is spending is coming from military spending, which may or may not be a good thing, depending on who the influential vote is.
As we dig in to our “early bird” dinner, I try and take my mind off being roped into a rogue government effort, but as soon as I can place myself in another place, I’m reminded that I’m in the Pentagon. Having no luck despite my best efforts, I instead remain silent, since I don’t want to really strike up a conversation with either Rainbow or Mr. Secretary. At least, until word from the Capitol comes back.
I want a cigarette, but I don’t want to go outside. I need to be with someone with clearance at all times, and Rainbow Dash has been very critical of my habit. Mr. Secretary I imagine would be too, since previous SecDef policies have cut the reported smoking rates across the armed forces tremendously.
Anyway, despite my stress-induced craving, I get a couple of drinks for later and wait about as nervously as the other two.
“Just another day at work. No need to act like a newbie. You’re already an outsider as is.” I say to myself.
About a half hour later, when presumably all the rest of the capital has gone home, a paper message gets placed in front of Mr. Secretary, and upon reading it, appears stoic as when we first met.
“The proposal was approved by the House. The senate hotlined and approved. Awaiting presidential approval.”
“How long might that take?”
“Depends on how he feels. This means we may have to send you home, then bring you back here if we can mobilize.”
“Can we start discussing our plan of attack then?”
“Wouldn’t hurt. Tomorrow however is another day.”
“Oh!” I exclaim checking my watch. “20:59.”
With that, I exit the Pentagon with Rainbow and walk over to the Ritz after Dash leaves to join other officers presumably at a bar. I’d go, but I need to unwind in a different way. All that time in the Pentagon with an ultra-secure clearance has gotten to me.
Glad their executive/penthouse suite is available at least for tonight, I hole up there and unwind with a shower and the scent of… cherry blossoms? Seems a little early in the year, but who am I to complain?
I’m no proponent of essential oils, nor do I find myself actively looking for or using them, but after the events of today… though that may be the accumulated grime and general grossness of my body talking.
Next morning, I get ready for the day but soon realize I never got a call time. If they went to a bar, then I would expect a call time between 9 and 11, but so far nothing yet.
Instead, I try to continue my unwinding process, which just goes to show you how nervous I was yesterday.
Short of an actual spa treatment, of which I would never partake (unless Rarity was to bend me so), I lay in bed and meditate on my thoughts so I can box them up and toss them into the bonfire.
To try and feed the proverbial flames, I decide to text Applejack.
“Hey, got some time to talk?”
I close my eyes and wait for a response, and to my surprise, one comes.
“Of course! What’s up?”
Shit, now I’m short of words.
“Uh…” “Are you in the orchards right now?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Curious. Never mind. I’ll try and get back to you later.”
“Well, that failed epically.”
“Relax.”
“Me relax? You’re the one who still can’t figure out if you like Applejack or not.”
“She doesn’t even like me like that. I’ve been very clear about my feelings for her, as has she with what we are.”
“Look at you! Such a hopeless optimist, thinking you might actually have a chance with Applejack of all people.”
“I had my reasons for falling for her, and I never saw you stop me.”
“And spoil what was to come?”
“You know me all too well.”
“I’m your inner voices. Of course I do.”
“Everything okay Max?” She then texts to interrupt my previous conversation.
“Yeah.” I respond immediately, “why wouldn’t I be?”
“Well, you’re texting me for starters. I know something’s up too because you’re texting me this early.”
“Oh haha. I’m in DC, so I have an hour up on you.”
“I thought you canceled that trip of yours.”
“I did, but I’m here anyway. On other business.”
“Thanks for those trucks by the way.”
“Thanks to Mario. Sounds like you’re enjoying them.”
“They get the job done. Now that our workload is going down, we can eventually start working on getting rid of our old equipment.”
“If you need anything, let me know.”
Before I sleep through important news, I decide to slowly walk over to the Pentagon, scanning my card with security but being held at the checkpoint for one of my contacts.
Rainbow arrives about 5 minutes after I do, and once she clears, she and I are met by SecDef after the security guard radios ahead.
5 minutes later, we’re back in the briefing room, where the list of awaiting approvals has dwindled down to 5. I sigh in relief as all the major countries have given the green light.
As everyone takes their seats, silence sweeps across the room before Soarin and Rainbow Dash begin the meeting.
“Good morning ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for coming.” Soarin begins. “As we await congressional approval, I am pleased to announce that all of the countries listed here have officially given repatriation operations the green light. While we have yet to confirm dates and sizes of manifest, Commander Dash and Mr. Scimitar will begin work on our plan of attack.”
“Tentatively, all the destinations currently served by respective United States airlines will be the likely candidates for operation for specific routes. In order to sort through those that may have to quarantine, those repatriation flights will be operated into airports where we have National Guard stations, due to their preparedness for such passengers. Mr. Scimitar and I will try and assemble a preliminary network as soon as we get congressional approval and we can get in contact with airlines.”
“I’m sure this breaks and bypasses a lot of processes and channels that we’re supposed to go through for government approval.” I think to myself.
About an hour after we adjourn the meeting, a message comes in from SecDef’s assistant.
If he passes it, then we’re golden. Otherwise, we’ll have to wait for a veto override. I don’t know the margin of yeas and nays in either chamber, but I imagine at least the required 2/3rds vote will be met.
“Veto.”
At that moment, the entire room goes silent.
From the Oval Office,
“We cannot risk bringing people here when they can be transmitters of the virus. They made the decision to go abroad with the knowledge that the virus was spreading. The money they spent in other countries around the world should have been used to fund AMERICAN tourism and boost AMERICAN jobs and the AMERICAN economy. Leave them there. How can these people call themselves Americans if they’re sending away OUR money and bringing back diseases? Why should it be our responsibility to rescue those who leave the safety and security of our soil? This is their responsibility, not mine.”
“Call Atlanta! Call Dallas! Call Chicago! Call Minneapolis, New York, Seattle and Denver!”
“Don’t forget Vegas.”
“And [Fort] Lauderdale!”
“Them too!”
“What about the congressional override?”
“We’ll get it. Call the other branches. Get them on the line. This is no longer a matter of service bragging. We must acquiesce and work together as a whole armed forces in the necessity to get American citizens home.”
I check my email to find a reply from the new Chief Pilot at Delta.
“Mr. Scimitar,
Thank you for your email. I have been monitoring the situation very closely and on behalf of our operations center, we appreciate your assistance as well as your cooperation. I know that our CEO and COO have been in talks with our industry competitors and colleagues as the situation is constantly changing.
I have been in close talks with both gentlemen and, even as I represent a dwindling number of Boeing 777 rated pilots, we are strongly leaning – though have yet to confirm – the retirement acceleration of our Boeing 777 instead of our 767. I understand you’re following our fleet change closely as part of the deal that you had sealed before I began in this position, so our only Boeing aircraft left are the Boeing 737-700, -800, -900ER, and the 767-300ER.
As I personally have been communicating with my colleagues at American [Airlines] and Southwest, I can confirm that both companies are anxiously awaiting the dispatch orders.
Management looks forward to meeting to discuss our role in this mission as it were. If you are involved in the process of planning, please send me your contact information so I can pass it on to my other colleagues.
With confidence,
-Chief Pilot, Delta Air Lines, Inc.
ATP - AMEL
Commercial/Instrument - ASEL, ASES
High Altitude, High Performance, Tailwheel
Type Ratings - B777, E170”
Since it’s about a day old, I immediately reply.
“Dear Captain,
Here is all my contact information. If at all possible, please include that I would greatly appreciate as many airlines join the meeting if possible, as per the information I have available to me, we will be utilizing each airline’s pre-existing route networks.
(xxx) A321NEO
(xxx) MOR2LUV
(xxx) MIXALOTSplit.Scimitar@*EmailServer*
I look forward to working with everyone. The more we can have, the better. Given the type of virus that’s spreading, while I would like to hold an in-person gathering, it may behoove us to hold our meeting digitally, so I also request that those who will be meeting, please specify which medium they will use, as I can accommodate multiple communications platforms as long as I know who’s who.
All the best,
Split Scimitar “Max”
ATP - AMEL
Commercial/Instrument - ASEL
Complex, Tailwheel, High Performance, High Altitude
Aerobatics - AdvancedComplete list of type ratings available upon request.”
When I finish composing my reply, another message from SecDef’s assistant is brought to our attention.
“Congress has overridden the veto, but now will not allot more than $5 Million. I hope that’s still enough.”
“I don’t mind that. I can dip into my personal fuel stash if absolutely necessary. I’m planning on losing a lot of business, so it ought to be used for a good cause.
“I’m talking with Delta, and they can spread my info to other airlines. Seemed confident that the airline industry is onboard. And they should be. Airlines, especially in the pilot department, are one place that’s absolutely saturated with veterans, so it’ll be a nice sort of callback for them.”
“Should we set up shop in El Centro?”
“We can work out of either Victorville or Peotone. I have a bunch of 777s coming in from Qatar. I was the highest bidder.”
“They’re dumping their 777s?”
“Yeah, to make room for the 777X.”
“How did you outbid Emirates or Etihad?”
“They didn’t bid. It was basically me, GECAS, and IAG. Only reason I imagine winning is because it was the whole lot and weren’t willing to split it up.”
“Well, congrats.”
“Thanks. That should be my last purchase for a very long while.”
“I would think so,” Dash harrumphs indignantly. “You have a larger fleet than the bottom half of the US airline industry combined.”
“For your information, I do plan on leasing portions of my fleet.”
“Probably the worst time to consider that business model.”
“It’s more of a side hustle.”
“Whatever. Let’s just get going.”