21 December 2012: The Calendar Beckons

21 DECEMBER 2012 -

THE CALENDAR BECKONS

(A Scarburg Family Adventure)

(Revised and Updated Edition)

By

Larry Edward Hunt

PAPERBACK EDITION

* * * * * *

PUBLISHED BY

Smashwords

Printed in USA

Charleston, SC

Cover by: Laura Shinn

21 December 2012 -

The Calendar Beckons

Copyright 2011 by Larry Hunt

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, media and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

Edition License Notes

This Book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This Book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners. Thank you for reading this fiction account and hopefully you will have enjoyed the author’s style to purchase another of his works.

Other books by this Author:

The P.H.OT.O. -

The Search (VOL 1)

(A Scarburg Family Adventure)

The P.H.O.T.O. -

The Saga Continues (VOL 2)

(A Scarburg Family Adventure)

***~~~***

ISBN-13: 978-1463605223

ISBN -10: 1463605226

CHAPTER ONE

"MAYDAY, MAYDAY"

"Mayday...! Mayday...! yelled Captain Knight into his headset microphone. Mayday! Continental flight 1425 one-hour thirty out of Mexico City.

Mayday...! Mayday...! We have just experienced a large on-board explosion."

Captain Hugo Knight, Jr., better known as ‘Huey’, a tall man, a couple inches over six feet, lean and muscular and weighing, as the English say, 13 stones (182 lbs).

Mary, his wife of all these years had resigned herself to feeding him until she, as she would say ‘put some meat on his skinny bones’. But alas her efforts haven’t worked. She had at least moved him from his old middleweight fighting class up to light heavyweight; however, Captain Knight, by his nature, couldn’t remain inactive and his metabolism was stuck on ‘high’- she had about given up on the heavyweight class.

His grey hair was almost gone and its number farther reduced by his daily head shave. Leaving his ‘noggin’ resembling a billiard ball. Chrome Dome as some of the crew affectionately referred to him. When he wasn't around, naturally. He was a southern boy, born and bred and educated at the United States Air Force Academy. Well known to be one of our countries finest military institutes of higher learning.

He may have the credentials of an educated military man - and he was - but he never could quite shake the Alabama dialect - nor did he want to. His heart and soul were still in ‘The Heart of Dixie’.

His physical appearance aside no better pilot could have been at the airliner’s controls this fateful day.

This particular excursion was to be Captain Knight’s very last flight - culminating upon his round trip return to his home base in the U.S.

He reasoned with all his years flying - first with the Air Force then the Air Force Reserves and later called back to active duty. After his active duty stint he continued his military service in the Reserves and all these years when not in a blue Air Force uniform he wore the uniform of a couple of civilian airlines. Now Mary said it was the time for him to hang up his parachute. Called back to active duty he flew the ‘Warthog’, or A-10 Thunderbolt also known as the ‘flying gun’ or ‘tankbuster’, while supporting ground operations in Operation Desert Storm back in ’91. Bammer, his military call sign, was shot down by a SAM- SA9 (Surface to Air Missile) in February of that year, ejected and captured. Remained a POW (Prisoner of War) by the Iraqi’s until rescued by a team of U.S. Special Forces sent in to extract him. After his military career he logged the remainder of his years with Continental Airlines©. Those years had passed by swiftly. Most of this time he and Mary had spent more time apart than together. Now in their golden years, they both reasoned they might have some time just for themselves.

Little did he know this ‘swan song flight’ was truly going to be his ‘very’ last flight.

'The best laid plans of mice and men…' hummm....

* * * * * *

Captain Knight, yelling at his co-pilot James Harold Doolittle IV above the deafening roar of the air screaming past the hole in the fuselage, Jim, I’ve got’er. Get back there and give me a quick assessment of the situation.

Jim, the young 29-year-old co-pilot was following in the footsteps of his famous Great-Grandfather General James Harold Jimmy Doolittle, hoping some of his forefather’s luster would rub off on him.

General (then Lt. Colonel) Doolittle led the famous Doolittle Bombing Raid of sixteen B-25B Mitchell bombers on Tokyo in April 1942 during World War II. All 16 planes were lost along with the lives of eleven crewmen. Lt. Colonel Doolittle was later awarded the Medal of Honor for that heroic mission.

The modern day Jimmy Doolittle IV could envision personal accolades that might approach those of his famous relative. And as a bonus, Doolittle senior lived to the ripe old age of 97. Jimmy thought, ‘I’ve got those 97 year old genes too.’

Jim Junior might be a good flier, maybe even as good as his great-grandfather, but he must get extremely lucky if he lived to see his 30th birthday, much less his 97th.

Speaking of famous forefathers Captain Hugo Knight, Jr’s father Hugo Sr was a military hero also. He was killed in action in Southeast Asia in 1967. For his acts of heroism he was awarded, among other medals, the Distinguished Flying Cross, the Silver Star and posthumously the Purple Heart. He was recommended for the Medal of Honor but the recommendation was denied due to the lack of the required personal confirmation of his heroic actions by a U.S. military commissioned officer

At the moment Captain Knight had no knowledge that he had a forty + year-old connection to some of the SCAR passengers currently on his flight to Mexico. Strange, yes, but that’s not his only connection. What! Who else could be on the plane? Maybe they weren’t on the plane but Captain Knight’s life had somehow intertwined with theirs? Were they connected to SCAR? Seems likely!

After fumbling to un-buckle his seat belt Jim leaped to his feet, extended his hand and grabbed the cold handle of the cockpit door – almost afraid to turn the steel latch that he had done so many times before. Instinctively he envisioned that he did not want to see what was on the other side of the hard metal structure separating the passenger section from the safety of his cockpit, but as First Officer he must put fear aside, duty came first.

Swinging the steel cockpit door open he was unprepared for the macabre scene confronting him – from the open door he should have been able to see a lavatory on his right (the port side of the plane), next would be the huge entrance/exit door, then a storage closet for passenger carry-on, followed by Row 1 through 4 of the 1st Class section.

Behind Row 4 another lavatory and the economy class of seats began at Row 9. The lavatory occupied what should have been Row 5, 6, 7 and 8. At least that was the appearance of the cabin layout the last time James Doolittle closed the cockpit door and settled into his right hand co-pilot’s seat when the flight first originated.

Now all he could see from Row 3 to Row 9 was a gigantic gapping hole with a panoramic view of huge fluffy cumulus clouds floating gently above the wide blue-green waters of the Gulf of Mexico miles below… the entire bulkhead wall was gone… along with seats 4A and B, the lavatory and seats 9A, B, C, 10A, B and C. The plane was so filled with smoke and flying debris he could see no farther into the passenger section. Further hampering his line of sight were the dozens of yellow oxygen masks that that had fallen from their emergency perches to enable the passengers to obtain a fresh breath of air. At the moment hysteria ruled the day - no one thought about the masks.

The noise in the cabin was deafening. The roaring sound was so loud Jim ‘could not hear himself think’. The ear-splitting noise was literally painful to his ears. At least the howling wind rushing past the exposed hole blanketed the terrified screams of the panicked passengers.

At first the co-pilot pondered whether the plane might actually break in two. ‘There isn’t much metal holding this ol’ ‘Queen of the Skies’ together’, he thought. Without taking another step the first-officer turned instantly to relay the horrific news to Captain Knight.

The air traffic controller at the International Airport in Mexico City responded, "Continental 1425 are you declaring an emergency?"

"Hell...Mexico City what do you think Mayday...Mayday...means? Would you say loosing half of my airplane in an explosion is an emergency? Damn right we’re declaring an emergency. I don’t know if I can keep her in the air long enough to reach your destination." Captain Knight said trying not to further bad-mouth the imbecilic Mexican air-traffic controller at the other end of the radio transmission.

It’s bad, real bad! Jim yelled, with both hands cupped around both sides of his mouth, as loud as he could to get the Captain to hear him.

Back in the cabin Dr. Buddy Scarburg was struggling to get back upon his feet, which was being tremendously hampered by a constant barrage of paper, books, luggage, and a menagerie of personal effects flying from the cabin interior out into the nothingness of the tranquil sky over the huge Gulf waters.

Checking around he saw a couple of other passengers and one flight attendant. They had all been caught directly in the path of the blast. They were shaken up, cut, burned and bloody but none of them appeared to have been killed.

His immediate attention was drawn to his older brother Forrest lying in a pool of blood on the cabin floor - motionless and barely breathing. Hot sticky blood was gushing from a large mangled hole in his chest.

In addition to Forrest’s critical situation Bud noticed two persons were missing - the mysterious thief with his metal briefcase and the cute blonde flight attendant...

* * * ~~~ * * *

CHAPTER TWO

APPROXIMATELY THIRTEEN HOURS EARLIER

The rising sun was beginning to sneak a peek above the emerald green of the Atlantic far off toward the eastern horizon of the good ol’ US of A. The early morning beams of sunshine cast a glimmer of light on the big wide-body Boeing 757 Queen of the Skies whose captain was pushing the throttles forward to FULL for take-off.

The two nose wheels and eight giant rubber Goodyear® tires hummed against the cool black tarmac until sufficient speed was attained to deify gravity and leave the safety of the ground. The dream of the Wright brothers was again being realized by this behemoth of metal, plastic and rubber - flight.

United Airline’s© huge white and blue Flight 1085 began its journey lumbering down the runway of the old Washington International airport now the DCA (Ronald Reagan Washington National) – headed south to ATL (Hartsfield-Jackson International Atlanta, GA). For most passengers boarding 1085 in D.C. their final destination was to be Mexico City.

The big jumbo jet, the first wide-body ever produced, rolled off the assembly line back in '69. It was expected to remain in service for only a few years, but was so reliable she still remained on duty and performed admirably. At least all on board this early morning flight said a silent prayer hoping this remained true.

In all the years the Boeing© 757 has been flying the friendly skies of the world she had achieved a remarkably good safety record; now it’s giant high by-pass turbofan engine’s were changing from a high shrilled whine and beginning to take on a labored moan as the captain pulled back on the yoke increasing the nose into a steeper and steeper ascent. The giant was attempted to gain altitude and airspeed hoping to allow the Queen of the Skies to retain its good safety record.

All the white knuckled passengers on their first flight were digging into the armrests with their fingernails and slightly lifting their feet in