Arctic Fire Read Online Free PDF

took over and he pulled out of gun range.
    “I’m calling bingo fuel.” Colonel Madison
interrupted. “Fights over.”
    “But Colonel.” Packard protested.
    “Negative Lieutenant, it’s time to return to
base. If I’m getting low on fuel from just watching, you’ve got to
be pushing it. My butt will be in a sling if anybody back at base
finds out what we’re doing out here, let alone if we run out of
gas.”
    “Roger sir, forming up.” Packard replied
reluctantly.
    Pike let out a sigh of relief as he joined up
next to the Colonel’s plane. At forty-one, he was nowhere near
being what you would call old, but pulling six-g turns in aerial
combat was definitely a younger man’s sport. “Thank you gentlemen,
I thoroughly enjoyed myself, though I think I’ll be paying for it
in the morning.”
    “Our pleasure Mr. Pike, it’s not often we get to
fly in the same skies with a legendary warbird like yours.” Madison
replied.
    “Mr. Pike…?” Packard began.
    Oh no, here it comes Pike thought, Packard’s
going to make all sorts of excuses for losing...“…I just wanted to
say thank you sir. You’ve taught me some valuable lessons today.”
Pike smiled and nodded his head slightly, humility he
thought, an even rarer commodity for a fighter pilot, this kid
might just go places.
    “You’re welcome Lieutenant.”
    “Keep’em flying! Mr. Pike.” Madison said. “Tower
this is Blackjack Flight, we’ve identified the bogie as a private
aircraft, we’re coming home.” Colonel Madison’s plane banked
smartly to the left followed by Packard’s a split second later.
Pike watched for a moment as the two F-15s pulled away, then he
banked to the right.
     
     
     
     
    Chapter
Four
     
     
     
    “Don’t forget your lunch.”
    “Yes dear.” Albert Jenkins dutifully replied as
he picked up the brown paper bag off the counter.
    “And don’t doddle tonight. Remember, the
grandkids are coming over for dinner,”
    “Yes dear.”
    “Oh, and would you please take the garbage out
with you? I forgot it last night.”
    “Yes dear.”
    Martha Jenkins, Albert’s wife of 41 years,
stopped wiping off the kitchen table and looked at her husband.
“Are you listening to what I’m saying?” putting her hands on her
hips, “And if you answer ‘yes dear’ one more time you’ll be so far
in the doghouse you’ll be in the basement.”
    Jenkins walked over and gave his wife a hug and
a peck on the cheek, then reached down and squeezed her lower
cheek. Martha giggled and slapped him on the shoulder. “Dirty old
man.” Jenkins just smiled and cocked his head to one side and
nodded slightly then said, “Yes dear,” and grabbed the sack of
garbage as he went out the door.
    “Morning Albert.”
    “Morning Steve.” Jenkins greeted the branch
manager as he let him in the front door. “Looks like it’s going to
be another hot one today.”
    “Not too hot I hope.” Steve Hertz replied, “My
son’s going up north for a football game today and you know those
school busses don’t have air conditioners. I wanted to go but
somebody has to hold down the fort.”
    “No rest for the wicked, or for bank managers.”
Jenkins smiled. He turned to lock the door when he heard his name
called. He looked up to see Mary Thomas running up the walk.
    “Hey Al.” Mary called out cheerfully. She was
about the only one at the bank that called him Al, but he didn’t
mind.
    “Hi Mary, come on in.” Jenkins smiled and swung
the door open, bowing as he waved her in. Mary was his favorite
teller. He’d never seen her down, always wearing a smile and the
way she looked at life was so refreshing, especially from a young
lady whose hair was blond today but could change by the end of the
week and who occasionally forgot to take out her nose ring. But his
fondness for her was more than just her outlook on life. There was
a personal side to it: she reminded him of his daughter. His Amanda
would have been about three years older than Mary,