//------------------------------// // A Tale Still Yet To Be Told // Story: Time To Be Awesome // by Split Scimitar //------------------------------// “Victorville, Angel Flight is a flight of six in formation over Lake Arrowhead, inbound to land.” Spitfire calls on their behalf about 15 minutes after startup completes. “Angel Flight, Victorville tower. Should pick you up on radar momentarily. Which runway would you like?” “Give us your longest.” “17/35 is 15,050 feet. Wind variable at 5, altimeter 30.05.” “Angel Flight. We’ll land 17.” “Angel Flight, roger, I have your crew in sight, which ship numbers are in formation at this time?” “1, 2, 4, 5, 6, and 8.” “Angel Flight, Roger. Remain within 10 NM of Victorville Airport.“ “Roger that.” A few minutes later, Spitfire calls, “Tower, Angel Flight is splitting into a flight of two.” “Angel Flight, roger.” “Angel 8, chief of Angel Flight 2, circling opposite Angel Flight 1.” ‘Sounds like Rainbow Dash.’ I think to myself. “Angel Flight 2, roger.” “Angel Flight 1 and 2, say intentions.” “Angel Flight 1 and 2, circle the field until Fat Albert comes in. Once he’s inbound, we’ll land on 17 in full formation, and Fat Albert will land on your other runway.” “Angel Flight, roger.“ “Any word on Fat Albert’s status?” Spitfire asks. “No additional targets observed at this time. Speaking of, where’s ship number 3?” “Down for its annual.” “Roger.” “Victorville! Hey, hey, hey!” “Fat Albert, Victorville, welcome. Say position.” “Just past Hesperia.” “Roger. Your compatriots are circling within a 10 NM radius of the field. Runway 21, proceed your discretion. Wind 020 at 3, altimeter 30.05.” “Rajah.” As I keep my eye out for Fat Albert, I soon call, “Fat Albert, I have you in sight. Runway 21, continue inbound.” “Runway 21, Roger.” “Angel Flight, target 10 miles out.” They acknowledge with two keys of the mic. Two minutes later, they report, “Fat Albert’s on final, gear down and locked.” “Fat Albert, runway 21. Cleared to land. Break. Angel Flight, runway 17, your discretion, cleared to land. Caution company Hercules landing runway 21.” “Fat Albert cleared for 21.” “Angel Flight cleared for 17.” Fat Albert touches down with hardcore reverse thrust. “Fat Albert, left at B if able, B C, hold short of E.” “Taking B, B C, short of E, Fat Albert.” “Angel Flight, Which one of you is first?” “In order,” Spitfire calls, “1, 4, 2, 6, 5, 8.” “Angel Flight, Roger. Fat Albert, you can shut down there and unload while your chief and I figure out parking. If you have linemen assisting Angels with unloading, you can leave your aircraft there.” “Roger, shutting down here.” “Angel 1, D E to the ramp. Cleared across runway 21.” “D E, cross 21, Angel 1.” “Angels 4 and 2, D R, double back via the roundabout, hold short of E. Angels 6 and 5, E3 E R, line up behind Angels 4 and 2 in the roundabout. Angel 8, well done on your short field performance. E2 E R, line up behind Angels 5 and 6.” “Actually, can Angel 8 join me on the ramp?” Spitfire asks. “Angel 1, roger. Angel 8, E2 E, cross runway 21, taxi to the ramp.” “To the ramp, cleared across 21, Angel 8.” “Angels 4 and 2, behind Angel 8, R E, cross runway 21, hold short of C. Angels 6 and 5, R E, hold short runway 21.” As each Angel responds variedly, Spitfire parks next to Angel 7, and Rainbow Dash next to her. “Angel 4, 2, 6, and 5, you can follow Angels 1 and 8 and park as you see fit. We’ll get some aircraft moved around on the ramp to give you some space. Angels 4 and 2, taxi to the ramp. Angels 6 and 5, cleared across runway 21, taxi to the ramp.” Before they can respond, I leave the tower and fire up a tug to move airplanes around. When I reach Spitfire and Dash, they’re just climbing out with the assistance of their linemen. Others then position the remaining Angels as necessary, so I wait until everyone is shut down before making any more moves. After all the canopies open, linemen assist as necessary and I meet Spitfire. “Okay. Now that you’re all here, how would you like to set yourselves up?” “Well, it looks like we can make things work for the most part with some moving around.” “If you can fit 2 Angels to each gate, I have a 3-gate terminal you can use, then Fat Albert can park just at the next available space.” “Let’s try that.” “Cool.” With that, I kick the Super Tug into gear, spewing some black, sooty exhaust. One terminal is cleared as it’s close to where everyone’s already parked. Fat Albert gets to sit at an open gate at the next terminal over due to its proximity to the Angels, and because the aircraft parked at the terminal I sleep in are staying put. The first plane under tow is Fat Albert, with his crew wing walking. Once I move him to his spot, two linemen who have super tug experience request the tugs from each of the gates at both my and the vacated terminal to tow the other Angels. Each F-18 is parked within 45 minutes, so while they take care of replacing the tugs where they got them, Spitfire, Dash and I figure out how their base is gonna be set up. I move all the fuel trucks over here for obvious reasons. “How much fuel do you think you’ll need?” “No exact estimates. What’s your asking price?” “I don’t sell fuel to the public, but what’s your most competitive rate?” “Imperial sells just under $5/gal. But between you and me, it is the DoD’s dollar.” “How about this? $6.70/gal. That includes other surcharges worked into it, so in essence, I’m waiving all my fees and instead working it into the cost of fuel. Plus, at $1/lb, that would increase your operating cost from $20,000/hr to $21,000/hr.” “I like the way you think. I don’t see why DoD would argue that price.“ “It’s just too bad Fleet Week San Francisco isn’t for a while.” “Yeah, then we could go to Pensacola from there.” “Quit talking about Fleet Week so we can be awesome!” Dash intervenes. “Whoa, Crash. Who’s in charge of the squadron, you or me?” Spitfire grumbles just as the other pilots and linemen join us. “We could try San Bernardino?” “FedEx and UPS fly into there, but that might work. San Bernardino would be your best bet.” “Let me talk to my superiors. Maybe they can coerce San Bernardino if they don’t get too busy.” She replies as she leaves to make a call. I then take the time to meet the other pilots. In command of Angel 2 is Lieutenant Soarin’ - “Clipper” - USN At the reigns of Angel 4 is Lieutenant Fleetfoot - “Flatfoot” - USMC Angel 5 is commanded by Major Misty Fly - “Dizzy” - USMC Angel 6 is commanded by Major Surprise - “Slowpoke” - USN Lastly, Angel 7, the narrator, is Captain High Winds - “Foot-in-Mouth” - USMC Of course, we can’t forget about Angel 1, led by Commander Spitfire - *unintelligible* - USN Nor can we forget about Angel 8, Lieutenant Commander Rainbow Dash - “Crash” - USMC A few minutes later, Spitfire returns with news. “Well, my superiors are gonna talk to San Bernardino. Given that they’re not terribly busy, we have a pretty good shot.” “No reason to not. UPS and FedEx would just have to deal with it.” “Amazon too. They’re much of the reason San Bernardino’s actually busy now.” “Yeah, well, we seemed pretty confident about it on the phone. I expect a word by tomorrow, but for now, I think we should try and figure out some sort of daily routine. Since we can’t go back to El Centro, is there anywhere we can stay?” “How many of you are there?” “25.” “Okay. Each gate is configured as a 4-person ‘suite.’ Three gates where the F-18’s are presently parked covers half of the crew. Plus, there’s there’s the gate at the terminal where Fat Albert’s parked, or however many else you need or want.” “Let’s take a look. No reason we‘d say no.” After I show them the gate suites, rooms go up for dibs. Unsurprisingly, Dash picks the room next to Rosalina and I in our terminal and requests solo occupancy, since her parents are coming in. She then asks if we can pick them up. Airport? Ontario. Arriving? Tomorrow. Airline? United. “Wouldn’t it be great if I could park my airplane at the gate next to theirs and take them to Victorville that way?” “It would be funny.” “And it would be pretty awesome!” “Rosalina, do you want to get something for dinner or would you rather cook tonight?” “I don’t mind either way.” “Freddy’s, Sonic, Cracker Barrel?” “Ooh. Cracker Barrel.” Fleetfoot responds. “There’s a Cracker Barrel here??!” Spitfire exclaims. “Yeah! California’s only 2 locations are within an hour of here.” “Let’s go!” “Do your comrades want to join?” “Let me ask.” When she leaves, I ask, “um, do you mind driving to Ontario to pick up Rainbow’s parents?” “Not at all. I’m taking all the opportunity to drive the Jeep I can.” “I’m glad. Oh, speaking of, when do you want to head back?” “We can head back when they leave.” “You’ll just miss a month in Maui then? Or do you want an extra month on Kauai?” “Maui.” “Cool.” “Alright, looks like most of us are hungry,” Rainbow says, “but we have pretty mixed results about those who want to go where.” “Well, for anyone who’s interested, Sonic, Freddy’s Steakburgers, Cracker Barrel, Original Roadhouse, Chili’s, Applebee’s, Johnny Carino’s, Panera, Habit Burger…” “Wow!” Dash exclaims. “Talk about diverse.” “All the Vegas travelers. Right off I-15, last stop before descending Cajon Pass.” “Figures.” “Okay, here’s the game plan then.” I respond. “Cracker Barrel people, please step forward.” 18 people follow my instructions, so we need to rent cars. “Okay, anyone comfortable driving a rental car for the next few days? If so, please step forward.” Only 2 step forward this time: Soarin’ and High Winds. “Okay. Let’s go grab rentals.” “I’ll take them.” Dash says. “Mustang or Porsche?” “Uh, the GT3 doesn’t have a backseat.” “Go figure.” I say as the three of them pile into her Mustang. When the three of them return, Soarin’ and High Winds each have a minivan. Fat Albert’s crew decides to rent a car for themselves and go grocery shopping, seeing as they appreciate the kitchens I have to offer. So, back comes another minivan. Fat Albert’s Marines plus some linemen then pile in and ask for the nearest grocery store before they head out. Rosalina rides with me, leaving the rest of the crew to pick vans as they see fit. We’ll head to restaurant row and fan out from there. By nightfall, we all turn in quickly. Sunrise is at 7:27, so tower services will begin at the bottom of the hour.