Touch the Heavens Read Online Free PDF Page B

around the column. She felt Dan release the stick and rudders to her command and now, she was flying the incredible F-4 Phantom.
    For two hours they flew in a restricted flight area over the Mojave. Chris’s initial excitement settled down as Dan began to teach her how to handle the Phantom. She was pleased with Dan’s technique as an instructor. His explanations and orders were easy to follow, and it made the flight that much more thrilling.
    “Just remember,” Dan was saying as she reluctantly made the final banking turn that would take them back to Edwards. “Never allow the Phantom to fly at too high an angle of attack.”
    “What happens if she goes out of her controlled flight envelope?” Chris wanted to know, restlessly scanning the gauges as she flew the fighter.
    “First the nose will abruptly yaw from side to side. And almost simultaneously, it will start to pitch up and down and will depart from controlled flight. And if you don’t catch it right then, it will go into spin. From there, if you’re anywhere around ten thousand feet or less, you eject.”
    Chris compressed her dry lips. Her mouth always felt cottony after being on one-hundred-percent oxygen for over an hour. She reached up, adjusting the soft rubber mask against her face. Her skin always itched beneath it! And if she had worn make up, it would have broken the airtight seal of the mask against her skin. If that occurred, she might die of hypoxia, or lack of oxygen. “Is it mandatory if the F-4 is in a spin at ten thousand you automatically bail out?”
    She heard Dan’s grim chuckle. “You try and pull this ugly bird out of a dive at less than ten thousand, and it’ll be a mad race between you and the dirt as to whether or not you can pull it out in time, Raven. Don’t chance it. Punch out and live to tell about it.”
    The past two hours spent with Dan hadn’t seemed like an instructor-student relationship. Instead, it had been a wonderful time spent between two adults who both became childlike when they flew in the arms of the sky. Dan’s voice was always warm, coaxing and praising her performance. The few times he had had to correct her were done without rebuke and only in a matter-of-fact tone. She never had to be told more than once, either. “But has anyone tried to kick this bird out of a dive below ten and live to tell about it without punching out?” she wanted to know.
    “Not many,” he returned grimly.
    She nodded. “Not very forgiving, is she?”
    “No. She can damn well be your coffin if you start messing around with her in flight. This isn’t a fighter to play with.”
    Back on the ground, Chris felt like a shackled eagle once again. Instead of taking the ramp vehicle back to the school, Dan talked her into walking the quarter mile. It was cold and the wind was cutting. Chris zipped up her green flight jacket. She was glad for Dan’s closeness beside her as the darkness engulfed them. Her black hair, once in a chignon and plastered down over her skull from wearing the helmet, blew in silky abandon, barely brushing her shoulders. She reached up, pulling several strands from her eyes. Her heart swelled with happiness and her step was buoyant.
    Dan glanced over at her, aware of the light and dark shadows playing across her face. How had Chris grown more beautiful? Those violet eyes were wide and lustrous. Her lips were curved softly upward at the corners, as if she was smiling about some happy secret known only to herself. Most of all, he liked her proud, easy carriage. She was all woman—a very confident, competent woman. “You know, Bill Craig was right,” he said, catching her gaze.
    “Major Craig? The officer who gave me my flight tests to enter TPS?”
    “Yes.”
    A mischievous glint came to her eyes. “And what did he have to say?”
    “That you had the best pair of hands he’d ever seen. I agree with him. You’re smooth. You fly by the seat of your pants.”
    Chris blushed fiercely, avoiding his