Vengeance Is Mine

CHAPTER ONE

Before I begin to explain how I ended up doing everything that I have done, allow me to introduce myself. My name is James Nature Boy Savage, Nature Boy being my old call sign. I was given this unique moniker because unlike my life now, which is marked by frequent, I was also seriously into fitness, and bodybuilding. I am still in pretty good shape, but back then I was all that, and a bag of chips. I am 6’5" tall, and at that time weighed about 265lbs. I had twenty and one half inch biceps. I was fifty-four inches in the chest, and thirty-six inches in the waste. Put all of this with my high and tight blond hair, and piercing green eyes, I was, to say the least, impressive.

I hope that as you read my story, that you will keep an open mind, and try to put yourself in my place. Ask yourself, what would you do if someone or something ruined your life? I do not want you to interpret this as a plea for absolution. It is not. My only hope is to make you think about how things are in the real world, and just perhaps, entertain you as well. So here goes.

For the past ten years I had tried-mostly in vain-to keep the demons that haunted my psyche at bay, knowing that I would someday have to destroy them once and for all or their very existence would destroy me. Even now I sometimes find myself in a constant battle to maintain my sanity.

My nightmare began fifteen years ago when I was sent to Federal prison on some trumped-up charges. The fact that I had nothing to do with smuggling or money laundering, or anything else that would merit a Federal case, was apparently of no consequence. All that mattered to them is the fact that I had, in ignorance, failed to register two of my Gulf War souvenirs they could make a case against me. The fact that I had been a decorated Marine Corps aviator, and an airline pilot, made me an even bigger trophy. I was, however, offered the proverbial get out of jail free card. All I would have had to do to keep these sorry bastards from ruining my life was to become a snitch for them. My honor, however, is not for sale and so I refused to cooperate with Big Brother, and I paid the price for it. I thought that because I was obviously not the man that they were after, that I would be exonerated. Needless to say, I was wrong. When it was all said and done, I spent just under four years in prison and was financially ruined and at thirty-two years of age, faced the daunting challenge of starting my life over as a convicted felon.

I fought an up-hill battle against the FAA and the other governmental powers that be in order to be able to fly again, knowing, however, that I would never fly for any airline again. I did, finally, secure a position as the chief corporate pilot for a telecommunications company in Des Moines, IA. I made pretty good money, at least by Iowa’s standards, and I got to fly some really fantastic business jets, a Falcon 50, and a Citation jet. Notwithstanding all of the seemingly good fortunes to befall me, it was still a far cry from the life of a United Airlines DC-10 pilot, not to mention the four hundred thousand dollar a year salary. Nonetheless, I was determined to make the best of things and try to live as normal a life as was now possible. Little did I know that the pigs were not done fucking with me. It is if they were just waiting for me to put my life back in order and when things were as good as they could possibly get, then and only then would they set out to destroy everything that I had worked so hard to get.

Looking back, I should have seen it coming, but as they say, hindsight is 20/20. It was as if I had a Midas touch. Things just kept getting better and better. Not only did I have a super job but my boss treated me like I was his own son. And I had perks, not the least of which was a brand new E300 Mercedes Benz, that definitely made me the envy of the company. Nobody, except a very select few, knew anything about my sordid past. Life was good, but something was still missing.

I know that every movie made about prison, or more to the point, about someone getting out of prison shows how the first and foremost thing on a man’s mind is getting laid. This is, of course, the complete truth. A very close second to a piece of tail is good food. Food was almost harder to come by than women. I was, and still am, virtually a perfect example of the ultimate man. I look like a recruiting poster for the Marines. It goes without saying that I was getting more ass than a toilet seat, dare I say, more tang than the astronauts. Still, I was looking for someone that I could really relate to. This is a pretty tall order as I am not like most people. Notwithstanding my physical prowess, I am the quintessential intellectual. Most women just wanted to jump my bones, and I can’t blame them for all of the above—mentioned reasons. They had no clue as to who, or what I was. I also refused to see myself as damaged goods, to wit, an ex-con. I will always consider myself to be quite a catch and thus I set my standards very high. Most women fell into the one boff and they’re off category. Nonetheless, all of this searching in vain for my soul mate was about to change.

One of the benefits of flying private jets is the high caliber of people that one comes into contact with. It was not uncommon for me to meet a movie star or a famous corporate raider type. In other words, anybody who is anybody travels by private jet. This is not to say that I got a chance to have a sit down chat with all of these captains of industry, nor did I have invitations of let’s do lunch from super models. Nevertheless, being the pilot had its privileges. Needless to say, I was not exactly treated like a cab driver.

Being the Chief Corporate Pilot for a big company had, in addition to perks galore, several responsibilities. For example, it was not unusual to be sent across the country on a moment’s notice to pick up some V.I.P. Notwithstanding that, for the most part this was pretty easy duty. That is not to say that I wouldn’t have to deal with some pretentious rat bastard with some delusional sense of entitlement. All I was to people like that was a glorified cab driver. Still, it was on one of these missions that I met my soul mate.

The company that I was flying for was in the process of merging with a much larger corporation based out of Dallas, TX. For those of you that are not familiar with mergers and acquisitions, there are quite a few hoops that have to be jumped through, not the least of which is something called a due diligence. This process is done to make sure that all of the financial ducks are in a row so that the one buying gets what he pays for. So much for business 101. In order to make sure that neither side could falsify documentation to make things look better than they were, not that this would ever be done in the world of big business, an independent consultant is retained by both parties to complete the due diligence. The consultant hired for this business venture was to change my life forever.

Her name was Paulina and she owned her own consulting firm with offices in both New York, and Los Angeles. She had a list of clients that read like a who’s who of the Fortune 500. Her credentials were, to say the least, impressive. She had two BS degrees from UCLA, an MBA from Cal State Northridge, and a PhD from the Simon School of Business, University of Rochester, NY. She has also won the Malcolm Baldrige award for business several times. For those of you who don’t know what that is, it is like a Pulitzer Prize. In other words, she was one smart lady.

I had the opportunity to talk with her on the phone several times when she would call the office and my boss couldn’t talk, but didn’t want to put her on hold either. We also had sent e-mails to each other regarding her itinerary. As she had clients on both coasts, not to mention around the world, she traveled incessantly. She didn’t have her own plane, even though she could have afforded it, which is how we would end up together. It goes without saying that she was a very busy woman and her time was extremely valuable. I could tell from our previous conversations that she was all business. She was very pleasant to talk to and she had the voice of an angel. Still, she was not into a lot of small talk. I couldn’t help but imagine her as some ball-busting corporate type. That image was about to change in a big way.

Her schedule allowed for her to fly to Des Moines and spend about three days at our corporate offices beginning Thursday afternoon and ending Sunday morning. Her plan was to stop in Des Moines on her way from LA to Rochester, NY. The problem was that her flight from LA stopped in Chicago and her flight from Chicago to Des Moines was canceled. She called our office and explained the situation. She was on a tight schedule and could not afford to lose that much time. My boss, Jack, told her not to worry, as he would send his private jet; I love saying private jet; it’s so cool-to pick her up. He told her to take a cab from O’Hare airport to Dupage County airport and go to the Executive Jet / Signature Flight Support terminal and by the time she got there that the company plane should be there. He told her that he could not be there to greet her but that his pilot, James, that’s me, would take care of everything for her. He also told her that his plane was a white Citation Jet with blue trim, tail number 1765H. She said that would be fine and then she hung up and I headed out of Jack’s office.

I went down the hall to my office and put on one of my best uniforms, as I wanted to make a good impression, for the company of course. My uniform consisted of a white shirt, blue tie and black slacks. I also wore a pair of gold wings on my chest and four gold stripes on my shoulders. Totally cool. I then, called the airport and told the ground crews to pull our jet out of its hangar and fuel it up with 3000lbs of jp5 jet fuel. I then called the flight service station for a weather report, and after receiving standard briefing; I filed my flight plan for Chicago. I then left for the airport, which was just across the street.

I pulled up to the private entrance to the corporate hangars and swiped my I.D. card’s magnetic strip through the gate and drove out to the plane, which was now out on the ramp. I pulled my car into the hangar and closed the door. I walked out to the plane and opened the door and climbed on board. I checked the systems by turning on the master switches and determined that I did not need to use an auxiliary power unit or APU to start the engines. I then climbed off the plane and did the walk around part of the pre-flight checklist. After completing the walk around, and determining that all was in order and that the plane was good to go, I got back on board and closed the door. I sat in the captain’s seat and called clearance delivery and, after obtaining my clearance, started the engines and prepared to taxi to the active runway. I lined up on runway 31R and since all systems were go, I pushed the throttles forward and took off.

In about thirty minutes I was talking to Chicago center, which then handed me off to Dupage County approach. I landed without incident and taxied to the Signature terminal. I had just shut the engines down and exited the plane when I could see her walking towards the plane, followed by one of the Signature employees who was carrying her bags for her.

I couldn’t believe my eyes. She looked nothing like some ball-busting corporate type. She looked more like a Playboy Playmate. She was 5’ 11 tall and had long blond hair, which looked like spun silk. She also was built like the proverbial brick shit house. As the poets say, hubba, hubba. Still, she was more than just a pretty face. Even if I hadn’t know about her education and background, I could tell, as anyone meeting her could, that she carried herself in a way that defined poise, charm, and grace. I didn’t know what to say to her, so I said nothing; at least that’s what I thought. I had apparently said, my God you’re beautiful." I know this because she heard it and asked me about it. All I could do was repeat it. She just smiled and shook her head.

I took her bags and stowed them for her and did a quick walk around the plane in preparation for takeoff. I climbed on board and sat in the cockpit. She asked me if it mattered where she sat. I told her she could sit in the Captain’s seat if she wanted. She declined but she did sit in the co-pilot’s seat next to me, which made my whole day. I love to fly and am very good at it. I also never miss an opportunity to show off, especially to a beautiful woman. I gave her a headset so that she could listen to me talking to air traffic control. She told me that it sounded like a foreign language. That is what I hoped she would think. I could tell she was impressed. I said the checklists out loud so that she could see everything that I had to do. I did everything by the numbers and the flight was uneventful only in as much as the trip was concerned. Something very important had taken place and I think that we both knew it from the beginning.

We landed and taxied to the hangar. I had the ground crew put the plane away, and then we left for her hotel, which was a brand new Wingate Hotel that Jack had got for her as it was just down the street from our office. After she checked in I took her to the office and even though Jack had left for the day, she went right to work gathering documents and scheduling meetings with the executive staff for the next morning. When I asked her what she wanted to do next, she said that she wanted to go back to her hotel and order room service while she went over her notes for tomorrow’s meetings. I said whatever she wanted to do was fine with me as I was not just the pilot, but was also the entertainment committee. She laughed at that and then she said she wanted to call Jack and let him know that she was in town.

We called both his home and cell phones and left messages, as he was not in. I took her to the hotel expecting to be able to eat there, but we found that because the hotel was new that the restaurant was not finished yet so she could not get room service. I offered to take her out to eat and she said that’d be super, as she hated to eat alone anyway.

I took her to a really nice restaurant downtown. It was almost like a date, except that everything was being paid for with company funds. I was technically just doing what I was told to do, but we both knew that we liked each other. We took our time over dinner, and before we knew it, time had gotten away from us. I took her back to the hotel, and she invited me in for a nightcap as we had stopped and purchased a bottle of Grand Marnier and some Cognac. I went up to her room and waited in the anteroom while she changed into something more casual. She told me that she would shower later, and asked me if I would have a drink with her, and I said that’d be great. She mixed me a French Connection, which consisted of a shot of Grand Marnier and a shot of VSOP Cognac. From that moment on, that was my favorite drink. It’s a good thing that I had eaten just a short time before because after only two drinks, I had a serious buzz. We talked and talked, and she explained to me exactly what it meant to do a process assessment of a company. I had to admit that I was impressed. Prior to meeting her, my opinion of a consultant was that of a person that would take your watch and tell you what time it was and then gave you a bill for it. She changed my view of her profession, at least in part. She, in turn, asked me about what I did.

I am my favorite subject and since she really wanted to know my life’s story, I told her everything that I felt was important. The fact that I had just gotten out of Federal prison wasn’t something that I felt she needed to know and as everything about me, I had decided, would be given out on a need to know basis, I did not tell her about my sordid criminal background. I could justify this for several, in my opinion, good reasons, not the least of which was the fact that if I told her and she told somebody in the corporate community, it could be damaging to my boss. The real reason that I didn’t tell her was because I really liked her and was afraid that she wouldn’t want to have anything to do with me if she knew that I had been to prison. Looking back, I know that when things started to happen between us, I should have told her and given her the chance to decide what she wanted to do about us. Unfortunately, that ship has sailed.

We ended up staying up all night, and get this; we just talked. At this point we were both interested in each other, but we also knew that we had to keep things on a strictly professional level. Before we knew it, the sun was coming up and she needed to get ready for the office. She asked me if I wanted to shower and I said that I had a private shower and another uniform at the office, but I would wait for her to get ready so that I could give her a ride to the office.

It was so cool just being around her. I know that you must be thinking that I was just hot for her and that all I must have had on my mind was getting in her pants. This was not the case. I was totally captivated by her. Everything about her was just incredible to me. Most of all, I liked the way she made me feel when I was with her. What I felt for her went way beyond mere sexual attraction. Don’t misunderstand me; I was completely hot for her. She was, after all, a beautiful woman. For me to describe what effect she had on me would be like a flower trying to describe what effect the sun had on it. To try to be somewhat more succinct; she completed me. It would take me a while to arrive at this conclusion as I had never admitted to myself that I, the great hot stick flyboy, would need anyone or anything, except for perhaps flying, to make me complete. This is not to say that I have ever really had my, pardon the expression, shit together. That revelation has only just revealed itself to me as I was previously convinced, in spite of overwhelming evidence to the contrary, that I did.

Looking back, however, it is obvious how something was always missing. I used to live to fly, and I guess I still do, but the only reason that flying was everything is because I had yet to find anything that meant more to me. The trouble is that I knew that there had to be something else of more importance. I could feel it. That is why I was never truly happy. Every time that I would achieve some seemingly unattainable goal, the euphoria would last about thirty seconds. I had several women but none of them ever were the real thing. I did get serious about a girl before. In fact, we were engaged to be married. We did not, however, get married. She dumped me for reasons that I have never found out. That is one of the greatest what ifs of my life. It doesn’t, however, matter now. When she left, I just poured myself into my flying career. I can’t help but think that it made me a better pilot as I could take greater risks and thereby push the envelope even more. The down side to getting dumped is that it tends to make a person bitter and I was no exception and I had the issues to prove it.

Needless to say, I didn’t know how to react when it came to Paulina. It was great when it was all company business. Even though we had talked about things that normally two people that have just met don’t talk about. She told me about her ex-husband and her family. She told me how she lived for her nieces and her animals. I told her why such a total stud muffin like myself was still on the market. As I mentioned before, however, I didn’t tell her about my stint in prison. I told her about being in the Marines, and how I had flown for the airlines after I left the service. I told her that I had been in an auto accident and had suffered a head injury, which for the next few years made me unemployable for airlines. This was, in part, the truth as I had been clobbered in a car crash that left me with blood leaking out of my ears for a couple of weeks. I did, however, fully recover. I also told her that I was not like so many other flyboys that thought they had to screw every girl they can. This was also true. I had already been there and done that, nevertheless, as I have said before, something was always missing.

Now I was faced with a growing dilemma. On one hand, I really liked her. On the other hand, I knew that I could never tell her about my past. I already could tell that she liked me too, but I was also convinced that she wouldn’t be too keen on me having been in prison. It didn’t make any difference that I had been railroaded. Everyone is innocent, right? I decided that I would tell her when I felt she needed to know.

When we arrived at the office, I was given a message from my boss’ secretary, Jennifer, telling me to show Paulina everything she wanted to see and that he, Jack, would be in around 11:00am. I showed Paulina where the information she needed was and I went down the hall to my office. Keep in mind that I am still wearing the clothes from the day before, and I haven’t showered either. I cleaned up and changed and went down the hall to accounting, which is where she was crunching numbers. I had no clue as to what exactly she was looking for. We had already had independent audits done on our financial statements. Whatever it was that she was doing, she was completely absorbed in it. I guess that’s why she gets the big money. She started to tell me what she was checking and soon realized that now was not the time as she was on a tight schedule. She loaded information into her lap top computer and then burned it onto CD ROM so that she could take all of these volumes of documents with her to peruse back at her office in Rochester, NY. I just got out of her way so that she could work, knowing that she had to be dead on her feet tired as she too had not had any sleep in over twenty-four hours. With every passing moment, I grew more and more captivated by her. I felt like a moth being drawn to an open flame, hoping that I wouldn’t get burned. Still, I just knew that I had to let her know that I wanted to see her again when her work here in Des Moines was complete.

Jack arrived at the office about 11:30. Paulina was still working and didn’t want to join him for lunch. He insisted, and so the three of us went to lunch. Paulina is a vegetarian so Jack took us to a restaurant that had several entrées on the menu for vegetarians. I listened to Jack and her talk business. Jack could tell that I liked her and did his best to brag about what a great guy I was. It was almost too good to be true. I felt like a million dollars. I loved the attention that I always received when I went to a fancy restaurant with Jack, especially when I was in uniform, which I was. On top of all of that, I was with Paulina. I didn’t want it to end but duty called and so we went back to the office.

I went back to my office and took a nap. I felt guilty because I knew that Paulina was dead tired as well. It was about 4:00pm when Jack suggested that I take Paulina back to her hotel and that I go home and change. He told us to pick him up at his home at 8:00pm and he would then take us out for dinner. I took her back to her hotel and dropped her off in the lobby so that she would be able to take a nap without me wasting her time. I then drove home and did a quick work out and cleaned up and put on some semi-casual clothes. I wore my aviator watch, flight school ring, and a pair of gold wings on the lapel of my sport coat. Add to that my official military issued aviator’s shades and I looked like I just left the set of Top Gun. I told myself that this was just another business dinner, but even then I knew that it was different. I had been to many of these business dinners, as Jack loved to show his business associates his company jet and his corporate pilot. It added to the image of the company, and as I loved being the center of attention it was a win-win situation.

Notwithstanding all of the above, I felt like a schoolboy on prom night that had a date with the prom queen. I told myself to get a grip. I called Jack on my cell phone and told him that I was on my way. He told me to call her and see if she was ready as he was running a little late. I called her and told her the situation and she said hurry up and get there. I felt my heart race just hearing her voice. I said that she had the voice on an angel. The truth is that I loved her voice so much that I almost asked her to read aloud out of the phone book. I drove like a bat out of hell to get to her hotel. I raced up to her room and tried to act casual when I knocked on her door. She gave me a smile that told me that she could read me like a book. She asked me why I was out of breath. I blushed and then said something cheesy in a way that I thought would mask its true meaning in case she didn’t appreciate my line of conversation. The trouble with this line of thinking was that it was doomed to fail as she could already see right through me. I said, in response to her query about me being out of breath, that the sight of her just took my breath away, and the truth of the matter was; I meant it. Another thing that gave me away is the way I said it left no doubt about my sincerity. She just smiled and said that I was sweet. Still, even though she was much more adept at hiding her feelings, I could tell that she was touched by my feelings for her.

She invited me in and had me call Jack to see how much longer he would be. When I called Jack I told him that I was with Paulina and that we were ready to go. He told me that he had been hampered by business phone calls and that I should take Paulina to the restaurant and he would meet us there. He had made reservations for us at the Crystal Tree for 8:30pm and if he was a little late, not to worry. The Crystal Tree was not far from her hotel and so we just sort of hung out together in her room. I wanted to kiss her so badly that could barely stand it, but I knew that if I had gotten my signals crossed about her that this would have been a big mistake so I just said that we should get going, and we left. She told me later that if I had kissed her that we never would have gotten to dinner, as we would have spent the night in bed. I still don’t know if it was a good thing that I did not kiss her that night.

We arrived on time for our reservations and it was a good thing too because the place was packed. We had some appetizers and a drink before Jack arrived. We waited for him before ordering an entrée. We had a really great time and before we knew it, it was getting late. Jack wanted to show her more of the city, but she begged off. She explained that she still had a lot of work to do, and she was still really tired as well. I took that at face value and so when we said goodnight to Jack, I took her back to her hotel expecting to drop her off in the lobby again. When we got to the hotel, however, she wanted me to come up for a nightcap. I couldn’t say no, but I must admit that the thought of being alone with her scarred me to death as I was afraid of doing something inappropriate with her and ruining whatever it was that we had together, not to mention the business aspect of it.

She mixed me a double French Connection and one for herself and sat down on the bed. She patted the bed and motioned for me to come and sit next to her. She told me to relax and all I could do was say okay, or something equally as stupid. She could tell that I was, to say the least, extremely nervous. She asked me what was wrong, and I said that everything was fine. She laughed as she could tell that I was so uptight just being alone with her. Keep in mind that I am a man that has been to Hell and back, with the scars to prove it. I have always faced whatever came my way with fearless, if not reckless abandon. Nonetheless, just being alone with her had me so uptight that I felt that I might be sick. I was so terrified of doing something to upset her that I was virtually paralyzed. I tried to act casual, but to no avail, so I downed my drink, stood up and told her that I should be going. She told me to please sit down as she had something to discuss with me. In spite of having eaten, the drink was already taking effect. This was both good and bad. The good thing was that it helped to calm me; the bad part was that it calmed me. In short, I was now probably more apt to put my size thirteen feet in my mouth.

I sat down next to her and immediately became aware of her presence. It is hard to describe what I mean by this. It was as if everything about her was being magnified and slowed down. I could hear her breathing. I could smell her perfume. I could see the curves of her body. Everything about her made me feel alive. For what seemed like an eternity, I waited for her to say or do something, and then she gently took my hand and told me to look at her. I turned so that I could look her in the eyes. She broke the ice, so to speak, by saying that she felt as nervous as I did and that if what she was about to say was not agreeable to me, to please forgive her for saying it and to not mention it to anyone. I said, of course, or something equally as generic.

At first I thought that she was just trying to placate me by saying that she was nervous, but as she began to speak, I could tell that she was every bit as afraid as I was. She told me that she didn’t know how to tell me without risking making a fool out of herself what she wanted me to know. I told her not to worry because if she was about to tell me what I hoped she was, then we could both relax. She told me that she liked me, and that she knew that it sounded premature and perhaps even unprofessional, but she wanted to continue to see me. She also said that she was worried about long-distance relationships but she wanted to as least try to make it work.

I didn’t know what to say, so I just hugged her and kissed her. I then confessed to her what I had been going through from the moment that I laid eyes on her. I told her that I felt like a schoolboy when I was around her, and that just the thought of her made my heart soar. I tried to put her at ease about the distance that we lived apart from each other by reminding her that I was a pilot and that it’s a small world with an airplane. She seemed to perk up the more I told her how I felt. It seemed that things were finally going my way. Still, in the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but worry about how to tell her about my past. I told myself that all of that would just have to wait. For now, all I could do was hold her in my arms and try to convince both of us that things were going to work out. I spent most of the night with her, but I did not make love to her. I wanted our first time to be ours and not stolen time from the company. I finally said goodnight and drove home. All of the way home I was being torn apart by emotions that ranged from total euphoria to complete despair. By the time I pulled into my driveway, I had decided that I would do whatever I had to do to make things work for us, no matter what that would require.

The rest of the time she spent in Des Moines seemed to fly by and before I knew it, she was gone. I took her to the airport where she boarded a plane for Rochester, NY. Before she left, however, we exchanged phone numbers and e-mail addresses. In addition to my home number, she had my office extension as well. I carried her backpack, which contained, among other things, her laptop computer, as well as another carry-on bag to her gate and waited until her flight departed. I wondered if what we had just experienced was what I hoped it was, as it seemed so surreal, indeed, almost too good to be true. I didn’t have to wait long to find out if she felt the same way I did because she called me almost every day, and sent me e-mails as well.

Each time I heard from her, either by phone, or by e-mail, I couldn’t wait to hear from her again. I knew that I had to see her. She felt the same way about me. The trouble was this; we lived about a thousand miles apart. In addition to this, we both had schedules that were, to say the least, brutal. She traveled from NY to LA every other week, not to mention her frequent trips out of the country. I was always flying somewhere at a moment’s notice. For example, Jack, my boss, may come in the office and tell me that we have to be in Dallas, TX in three hours. I am the best at what I do and so I could have all my ducks in a row and be ready to take off within thirty to forty-five minutes. Still, this doesn’t give one much margin for error when placed on a fairly strict timetable. Needless to say, even if I didn’t have the Feds to answer to, I was rarely in a position to plan much of anything.

Keep in mind that I was still on Federal supervised release. That’s like parole, except instead of getting out of prison early and then serving parole, you do every day of your time, then serve more time on supervised release. That’s America for you. It was because of this situation that I had to get permission to travel anywhere. The exception was when I flew Jack somewhere as he had told the court that he would take responsibility for my actions. In short, I could fly Jack anywhere, but besides working for him, I couldn’t get permission to cross the street. This however, never entered into my mind when it came time for me to travel to see Paulina. Before I explain this, however, I must digress.

Thus far, I have been remiss in presenting a timeline of the events that led up to me becoming a cold-blooded killer, completely devoid of conscience or remorse. By the way, the above description of me is not mine, but rather what has been written about me. Pretty cool, eh? Oh yes, on with the timetable.

I was released from the Federal Pen in Springfield, MO on in April, having spent about two and a half years there. I had also spent almost a year in the Federal Penitentiary in Leavenworth, KS. I will not go into the drama of life in prison. Suffice it to say, it sucked the big one. Upon my release from the actual prison, I was sent to a half-way house. This is a facility that is supposed to help the offender make the transition back into society. In theory, it is a good idea. In practice, however, at least in my case, it was a farce. All it did was keep me from making a living. I did, however, get a job at the office that I was to later fly for. If not for that, I would have been SOL, that is to say, shit outa’ luck. Nonetheless, I made the best of it, and did my time there, about four months, without incident.

I got out of the half-way house in August, and immediately set out to get my flying career back on track. I had flown the day I got out of prison because my boss, Jack, had sent a plane to pick me up and I flew it back. It was like I had flown the day before and not taken the last four years off. I had also been able to fly simulators, as Jack had installed them in his office building. It goes without saying that I was ready to get back to work in earnest. The trouble was that the Feds had other ideas about what I should be doing to make a living. If I wanted to work as, say, a fry cook, or a construction worker, that would have been just fine. When I told my probation officer, a woman named Shilah Penn, that I had brought my flying credentials up to date, and that I had a job flying for the largest telecommunications company in the Midwest, and that I would be making over a hundred grand a year, and get a new E300 Benz for a company car I thought she would be happy for me. She was glad for me; however, she was concerned about what her supervisor would think about me flying. In this, her concerns were correct.

Her boss, a man named Ronny Dyke, a complete piece of shit, in my opinion anyway, hated me, perhaps because he was such a nerd. I told him not to take his issues out on me, as I was not the guy who took his lunch money when he was in high school. For whatever reason, he was out to get me. He told my PO that he would not let me fly, at all. Fortunately for me, my boss had a little more juice than this pencil-pushing dork. We went to court and my boss’ attorney explained to the Judge that my flying for the company was a win-win situation. He explained that his client, my boss, Jack, would accept responsibility for my actions and thus no risk to public safety existed by me being the corporate pilot. Keep in mind that even the Feds had to admit that I was a hot stick pilot. He also pointed out that I would be helping the company to expand and thereby creating more jobs. How could you argue with that logic? As the saying goes, money talks, and bullshit walks, thus, faced with the potential loss of tax revenue, they had to agree to let me fly for Jack. They did, however, make it difficult for me to travel anywhere if it was not company business. This is what brings me to the part where I catch a new case and go back to the shit house.

As I love to fly, I made it known throughout the aviation community that I was available to fly when I did not have company commitments. I usually didn’t have to fly on the weekends so I got a weekend job flying a team of skydivers. It paid about two hundred or so a day, cash. I didn’t need the money, but I still liked having a few extra dollars. I also liked being able to help out the guys that ran the team, as they had always been good to me in the past. Keep in mind that only one of the guys involved knew that I had been in prison. He, Richard Quail, also ran a flying club in Des Moines, as well as the Executive Jet franchise. He threw me a bone whenever he could and I figured that I owed him. As far as I was concerned, if he needed a pilot, he could count on me. This would all lead up to me making a trip that got me in a real jam. This is how it all happened.

I had been flying for the skydivers for a couple of weeks and since I was far and away the best pilot they ever had, they wanted me to fly the team down to Florida for a national competition. They were going to pay me pretty good, plus I would get to fly a twin-engine turboprop airplane. I submitted all of the paperwork necessary for me to receive permission to travel to my PO. She gave me permission, but her boss vetoed it. Now with only two days before we were to leave, I had to tell them that I couldn’t go after all. Since I had already told them that I could do it, I looked like a complete asshole. It goes without saying that I never flew anything for them again. I was so pissed off that I was determined to get back at the pigs for doing that to me. I decided that every chance that I got to fly somewhere that I would. I also decided that I would never ask for permission again, the exception being when I flew for Jack because they expected to hear from me regarding company flights.

CHAPTER TWO

It was this, I’ll show you attitude that led to me being sent back to prison. This is not, however, an admission of any wrongdoing. All I was doing was trying to earn an honest living. The pigs have tried to justify their actions against me by reminding me that everything is my fault because I knew that it was against the rules to travel without permission. In other words, I broke the rules of my supervised release by making a flight without permission. Keep in mind that supervised release is supposed to help the offender transition back into society. What a crock of shit! All the pigs were trying to do was keep me down. I had never done anything to anybody. I will never acknowledge committing any crimes, because I have not. It didn’t matter how I felt about things as I was totally out gunned. So this is what happened that put me back in the shit house:

It was the end of August and my boss had several meeting lined up on the East Coast. I, of course received permission to fly him to New Jersey. The problem arose when I was refused permission to stay there until it was time to fly back. So instead of spending two weeks in New York, I had to fly back to Des Moines knowing that I had nothing to do at the office except putting up with a sadistic bitch of a woman, who unfortunately for me was the company’s vice president. She knew of my situation, that is to say the fact that I had just gotten out of prison, and she hated me for all sorts of reasons. First and foremost, she detested the fact that Jack thought so highly of me. In any case, she did her best to make life miserable for me. In this, she was an expert. She had me doing everything around the office from simple repair work to mowing the lawn. When Jack found out, he was pissed off. I talked to Jack and he said that he would let me know when to pick him up, and until then, I could take some time off, and of course I would still receive my salary. Totally cool!

I didn’t have to wait very long to find something to do as that very day, upon my arrival home, there was a message on my answering machine from my good friend, Richard Quail. He is the one that owns, among other things, the Executive Jet franchise for Des Moines. He told me to call him as soon as possible. I checked my voicemail on my cell phone and he had called me at that number as well.

I usually check my messages but, due to the tasks that I had been doing for Virginia, that’s the bitch from hell VP’s name, I had not had the chance. Keep in mind that it’s just a couple of days from the start of Labor Day weekend. I called him back, and he asked me if I had any plans for the up-coming weekend. I told him the situation with Jack, and that I should be free for the entire weekend. He then proceeded to tell me why he called. He said that a man and woman had come into his office and tried to hire a jet for the entire Labor Day weekend. He told me that they, and some of their friends, wanted to fly out to Las Vegas and go gambling. He also told me that the couple had just won the Power Ball Lottery for about twenty-eight million dollars. He told me that he couldn’t fly them himself because he had family obligations. He also said that none of his other pilots who were type rated to fly the Citation Jet were rated to fly it as single pilot operators and he didn’t have two pilots to do the job as it was so close to the holiday weekend. I asked him what it paid and some of the other particulars of the job. He told me that I could pretty much name my price. I told him I’d do it for two thousand a day, not really expecting to get that much. He said that would be fine. I probably could have gotten more as these people had more money than they knew what to do with.

He gave me their phone number, and before he hung up, suggested that he try a conference call. He called them while I waited on the line. The man, Sam, answered the phone, and he told his wife, Bree, to pick up the extension. Having everyone one the phone at the same time cut out the guesswork. They said that they wanted to leave tomorrow and fly to California first. I said that this would be fine, however, I needed to check on a few things first and that I would call everyone back. I told them that I would call back within the hour and I hung up.

I checked my day timer and made a note as to when I needed to see my PO for the month. I hated having to get back in time to see her because anything can happen that would prevent me from getting back in time and I would be up shit creek. Notwithstanding the above situation, after canceling everything else that I had planned, I called them back and told them that it was a go. I then told them to meet me at Richard’s office at 8:00am and be ready to go. I then called the Flight Service Station for a weather report. I didn’t have an exact destination yet, as I neglected to ask them, so I just asked for the weather forecast for the greater Los Angeles area. I soon found out that this would not be a good idea as it was forecasting rain and fog due to the remnants of a hurricane. I could fly them there, but since they were looking for sun and fun, they would not be happy. I then checked the forecast for the Phoenix area. It was not that great either, but I decided to suggest that we stop in Phoenix before going to Vegas as I used to live there when I flew for United Airlines and I wanted to see my old stomping grounds.

I spent the rest of the day and night preparing for the trip. I did my laundry and packed my bag. I also worked out with my weights and then went for what turned out to be a ten-mile run. I usually would have only run about six miles or so, but I knew that I would most probably not get to run again for the next few days. I cleaned up and waited for my brother, Dan, to get home. In case I haven’t mentioned it, I was living with my younger brother, Dan, who was going through a messy divorce. Upon his return home, I told him about the trip. He asked me if I had cleared it through my PO, knowing that there was no way that I could have. I, of course, lied to him and told him that everything was cool. He just told me to watch my back. Looking back, I wish that I had just called Sam and Bree back and told them that I couldn’t do it after all. What a complete fucking disgrace! I had to look over my shoulder just because I was trying to make an honest living. I finally hit the rack about 11:00pm, and although I was dead tired, I just couldn’t get to sleep. By the time I finally dozed off, my alarm was going off as it had been set to do, promptly, at 4:30am. Needless to say, I was dog-tired.

I got myself together, and after loading everything I needed for the trip into my car, I headed for the airport. I lived in a small town about 40 miles northwest of Des Moines, and since the airport was on the extreme South side of town, I had about an hour’s drive ahead of me. I used this time to listen to some tunes and wind down. While still in route, I called the reception desk and asked if information regarding the plane I was to use. I was surprised to find out that Richard was there. The office is open 24/7, but it was early for the boss to be there. He told me that he had a few things to take care of before he and his wife took off for the weekend themselves. He also told me that I would be flying his newest Citation Jet, tail number, 25DT. I said that was great, and I looked forward to the trip. He said he wanted to show me some of the equipment on the plane that I may not be that familiar with. By this time I was just a couple of miles away and so I told him I would be there in a few minutes. I hung up and navigated through the early morning traffic to the Executive Jet terminal parking area.

As soon as I arrived, Richard met me in the parking lot in front of the building and told me that I could park my car in the hangar, as it would be safer there. The airport is not a high crime area per se’, but I was driving a brand new Mercedes, and it is always better to be safe than sorry. He then took me out to where the plane was waiting. We climbed on board and sat in the cockpit. It was just a fantastic airplane. The avionics were state of the art, and the passenger cabin was, to put it mildly, well appointed. After completing the check-out of the equipment, most of which I already was familiar with, I did the pre-flight walk around of the airplane, and finished the primary checklists before starting the engines. In other words, I was ready to go. I decided to check the weather on the computer in the pilot’s briefing room, and after viewing the radar summary charts, I decided that there was no way that I wanted to fly to LA. I really wanted to file a flight plan because it takes about thirty to forty minutes to receive an IFR clearance. I need not have worried about trying to have things ready for a timely departure as they, that is to say, Sam, Bree, and their friends, did not show up on time. I had planned for an 8:30am departure, based upon their getting there at 8:00am. To make a long story short, they (Sam, his wife Bree, as well as another man and wife couple, and some skanky chic) didn’t even arrive at the terminal until 1:00pm. When they did arrive, I explained the weather situation in L.A., and recommended Phoenix as a first stop. They agreed and