Fire Eye Page 6

  “Go round!” Dan commands with authority.

  Jed pushes the throttle forward and the engine roars into life. With careful back pressure on the control column, the aircraft begins to climb. He points to the climb indicator and says, “Positive rate of climb, flaps identified and up.” He raises them a few degrees at a time so as not to dump all the lift at once.

  “I’m happy with that,” responds Dan casually. “Take us back.”

  Jed trims the aircraft for the return to Darwin and Alexander enjoys the panorama once again as he talks to the tower and sets up the landing. She is seeing another side of Jed, carefully hidden beneath his laid-back style.

  As Jed’s hand moves to the flap lever, she sees Dan stop him. “You have a flap failure and I want you on the piano keys,” Dan instructs.

  Jed makes a turn into final approach, keeping the speed up an extra ten knots to make up for the lack of flaps and the extra lift they would have generated. With no flaps the approach is going to be high, so he pulls his left hand down, pushes right rudder to cross the controls and drops the nose to slip the aircraft sideways, washing off altitude until he has the correct approach angle.

  Jed has no time to brief Alexander. He is unaware that her fingers are digging into the seat in response to the unusual sensations of the aircraft slipping down and sideways. Jed keeps the runway threshold steady in the windscreen, aiming at a spot just before the white painted markers on the tarmac that look like piano keys, adjusting descent with the throttle. He brings the aircraft in low over the fence and approaches the runway, centres the controls and gently raises the nose, slowly pulling the throttle back and letting the aircraft sink gently onto the runway. The Cessna kisses the tarmac only three metres past the markers.

  “That’s good,” Dan judges. “Take us back in to the office.”

  Jed opens the cowl flaps to cool the engine on the ground and makes a careful effort to taxi with the nose wheel on the centre line all the way back. Once on the apron he turns the aircraft into the wind and goes through the shutdown checks as he waits for Dan’s feedback.

  Dan ponders in pregnant silence for a few seconds before relieving Jed’s tension. “You did well! I can pass you on that. Your checks are clear and concise, airspeed control is good and your landing profile is safe and accurate.”

  “That was fun!” Jed replies, relieved it’s over. His armpits are damp from sweat. “Nothing like a good work out!”

  He has been totally engrossed by the flight and ignorant of the drama he caused in the back seat and how Alexander’s trust is teetering on the edge of an abyss. “Are you bloody crazy? Next time you want to give someone heart failure, you can do it on your own time and using your own money!”

  It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out she was not happy with his brilliant flying skills.

  They walk back to the office to debrief and finalise the paperwork before heading off for a well-earned coffee. Jed can sense Alexander is not her normal self but his empathy is constrained by the excitement of the flight. She must settle her demons alone.

  “We have the rest of the day to kill,” Jed comments as he flicks through a tourist brochure. “Would you like to do something a bit different?” he asks carefully, sensitive to her mood.

  “As long as it doesn’t include giving me another heart attack!” Alexander replies.

  Women continue to mystify him. He is unsure whether he is forgiven for scaring her or if he should go and buy a Kevlar vest. He may need it for his next brilliant idea. Jed wisely doesn’t verbalise one of the things he imagines. “I’ve got a couple of things in mind. What do you think of this?” Tentatively, he lays a brochure in front of her.

  “A shooting range! What makes you think I’d be interested in that?”

  “You strike me as being open to a challenge. And after that we could go past the aviation museum where I can show you a B-25 being restored,” he smiles, keen to see how she responds in another totally new environment.

  “So much for smelling the roses in Darwin! Okay, I’m game,” she replies. Picking up her bag she heads toward the door, her controlled walk giving her hips a slight but seductive sway.

  Jed rises slowly, buying a few extra seconds so he can observe her, contemplating if it’s a natural movement or something she does deliberately. He gives up wondering and beats her to the car to open the door.

  Chapter Nine

  They turn right off the Stuart Highway and find the shooting complex in a plain, solid block building, discreetly identified by a sign—Advanced Shooting Academy. The office area boasts a long counter, with a young secretary standing behind it. She welcomes them with a friendly smile and hands over a folder. Each page has a picture of a handgun, some basic details and a price for a package of rounds. A range officer comes over to help with the selection of firearms.

  Alexander flicks through the folder, finally stabbing her finger at a page. “That one!”

  “Perhaps that’s a bit much to start with,” Jed suggests cautiously as he sees the range officer raise his eyebrows. “A .44 Magnum tends to bite a bit. How about the Smith and Wesson 686? You can use .38 special ammunition to start with and I’ll use .357 Magnum. After you’ve fired a few rounds you can put some .357 through it—they tend to kick a bit more and will give plenty of excitement.”

  “You don’t think I am capable do you? Is it because I’m a woman? I have used a rifle before, you know.”

  “Not at all, Alexander! Handguns are just hard to use. It’s not like the movies. In real life, a novice can easily miss a big target at only seven metres. Unless you have some experience, a handgun is just plain difficult to shoot well.”

  “Okay, but I want to have a go at something with grunt!”

  After a short inspection of the wall displays they enter an indoor range where two stainless steel Smith and Wesson revolvers are laid out in separate booths, with twelve rounds each. The stainless steel contrasts starkly with the black Pachmayr neoprene combat grips that allow a firm hold on the gun. Their range officer introduces himself as John, nickname Hammer, reason not explained, and gives them the standard safety briefing. He’s young, crew cut, tanned and muscular, with the confidence that comes from a military background.

  Once cleared to load, Jed puts on the ear muffs, slips six rounds into the cylinder and snaps it shut. Hammer spends more time with Alexander getting her set up. Jed would have liked to guide her himself but has enough nous to leave it to the official expert. He takes a two-handed hold, adopts a comfortable standing position with his left leg toward the target, straightens his right arm with the left supporting the revolver, eases the hammer back and squeezes a shot onto the target. The muzzle blast is loud even with the ear protection and the barrel kicks up with a snap, but he brings it back onto the target smoothly. He clicks the hammer back with his thumb, fires again and moves the revolver into his left hand. Changing position with his right foot toward the target, Jed releases two fast shots. Back again to his right hand, he fires two quick rounds, double action. Placing the gun on the bench with the cylinder swung open, Jed calls, “Gun clear.” He hits the button to retrieve the target on a pulley system and is satisfied to see a group of six holes that can just be covered by a fifty cent piece.

  “You’ve done this before. Less than twenty seconds start to finish!” calls Hammer. A statement, not a question.

  “Once or twice,” replies Jed. Seeing Hammer’s quizzical expression, he decides to be more forthcoming. “I was state champion in Practical Pistol—house clearing, hostage rescue, obstacle courses. Owned a 686 and a few others but mostly used a Beretta 92SB in competition.”

  Hammer visibly relaxes, realising he is talking to someone who knows what they are doing. “Nice gun, the Beretta. I’m currently using a Glock 40 for security work, pretty standard in the industry.”

  Jed nods.

  Hammer moves closer to Alexander to keep an eye on her. He gives her a briefing on how to hold the revolver tight into the web
of her hand and sight the pistol, loading six rounds for her. She pulls the hammer back for single action firing as briefed, braces herself down onto the bench and squeezes off a shot. Without breaking concentration, she fires five more rounds, clearing the gun with confidence and retrieving the target.

  “That’s terrible!” she groans, seeing the six holes spread vertically on the target.

  “Relax,” Jed chips in after a glance at Hammer. “All your shots are on target with less than an inch horizontal movement. The vertical difference is because you’ve let the front sight move just slightly up and down. Keep it in the same place on the target and you will be a master.”

  “That’s fucking brilliant… sorry, that’s very good,” Hammer confirms. “Your trigger pull is smooth and consistent. Have another go and control the front sight.”

  This time she loads six rounds herself, takes a brace position and single actions them onto another target. This is proving to be a new and challenging experience, but she has a strong competitive streak. When the target is retrieved, the two men exchange glances and Jed offers his remaining six rounds of .357.

  “That’s still not good enough,” Alexander spits out. “They’re all up to the right!” The holes are grouped into a circle less than six centimetres in diameter.

  Jed and Hammer recognise a significance that escapes Alexander. “These will kick a bit more but that’s all—just do again exactly what you just did. Keep the same sight picture and squeeze the trigger,” Hammer encourages.

  Alexander hits the switch to move the target back to the twenty-five metre range, loads the rounds and fires them off. She concentrates on the front sight and squeezes the trigger smoothly. This time Hammer hits the switch to retrieve the target—twelve holes are punched into the paper that can be covered by the same six centimetre circle.

  “That’s appalling shooting!” complains Alexander. “Not one bullseye!”

  Hammer and Jed exchange glances again. Hammer can’t help himself, blurting out, “Where’d you find her?”

  “Off an internet dating site,” Jed responds.

  “You’re wanking me!” Hammer says.

  “Yeah, I am. She’s actually my boss.”

  “You’re wanking me more!”

  “No mate, I’m not. She is my boss.”

  “Fuck! How do you get to work for someone like that?”

  “Just pot luck mate. She’s good, isn’t she! A real maverick!” And one bloody hot woman as well, Jed thinks secretly behind the walls no one has yet penetrated.

  “What are you guys going on about?” Alexander demands as she clears the gun and drops her ear muffs.

  “That’s fantastic shooting!” Jed offers. “Most of the guys I shoot with would hang up their guns if they saw a first timer do what you have just done!”

  “Just natural talent!” Alexander smiles.

  “Okay Hammer, you better tell her,” Jed suggests. “She might believe you more than me.”

  Hammer steps toward Alexander and points to the target. “You just put six rounds of .38 Special and six rounds of .357 Magnum into a circle about six centimetres diameter at twenty-five metres. That’s fantastic! The whole group is a bit to the right of centre and slightly high, but that’s only a matter of adjusting the sights one or two clicks to the left. Everyone holds a gun differently so it has to be fine tuned. The group you shot shows that your sight picture, trigger pull and grip are consistent. That’s what handgun shooting is all about. You are very, very good lady and it takes a lot to impress me!” Reaching into his pocket, he puts another three rounds on the bench. “Try another three, no charge.” He picks up the Smith and Wesson and adjusts the rear sight two clicks to the left and one click down.

  When Alexander picks up the revolver there is a change in her whole demeanour. It isn’t just confidence, but a determination of mind and body that radiate something Jed can’t put his finger on. He watches as she slips the rounds into the cylinder, flicks it shut and without help lines up the cylinder with the first round just to the right of the hammer so it will be in line with the firing pin when she pulls the trigger.

  Jed and Hammer swap yet another wordless glance.

  As she takes up a firing position, Jed moves sideways for a better view and is perplexed by the expression on her face. He is no stranger to defending himself and the expression on her face gets his full attention. He watches intently as she takes command of the revolver to place three shots onto the target, pulling the hammer back each time with her thumb.

  This time Alexander retrieves the target for them to inspect.

  “One in the bull, two in the nine ring. A four centimetre group. With a .357 Magnum! Fuck!” Hammer spits with astonished respect.

  Jed watches the play of emotions on Alexander’s face, from genuine pleasure to grim satisfaction and something else that would be frightening if it was directed at him. He has a gut feeling that this time she had not been seeing a paper target! “If I’m ever in trouble, you can be my wingman anytime Alexander,” he offers with a smile.

  “Thanks for the experience, I enjoyed that!” she responds and her smile washes away any sign of the grim determination so recently clouding her features.

  Hammer organises the gear as they prepare to leave and offers Jed his card. “If you’re around I’d like to catch up.”

  “That’d be great!” Jed responds as they return to the foyer. He offers a card and his hand to Hammer and they shake firmly.

  As they turn, Alexander stands waiting with her hand out to Hammer offering her own card. “Is this just a boy’s thing or can the girls join in too?” she asks, with a hint of challenge and a dose of playfulness.

  “Anytime mate, and Jed is welcome too,” Hammer responds, taking her card with a big smile. “Better make sure you never piss her off Jed!” he adds with a chuckle.

  Jed responds with a wave, Another man mesmerised by this unusual woman. So it’s not just me! He has seen yet another side of Alexander and can’t help wondering what happened in her life to shape her complex personality.

  Back at the car Jed opens the driver’s door for her. “Turn right and then right again onto the Stuart Highway and we can have a look at the aviation museum,” he suggests as they pass the few vehicles in the car park. One is a well set-up Nissan Patrol with all the expected after market gear, a machine as good as the Landcruiser for the Top End country. Someone’s got money to play with, he thinks, giving it a respectful appraisal before climbing into the ‘cruiser.

  Chapter Ten

  They miss the turn off and do a U-turn at the lights down the road on the way to the museum. Jed notes that a white Nissan Patrol like the one at the range makes the same turn just as the lights change. So they aren’t the only tourists to miss the turn off. Well set-up four-wheel drives are pretty common on the road, ideally suited to locals with an outdoor bent or the swarms of grey nomads.

  The Australian Aviation Heritage Centre is the longest single-span building in the Northern Territory and houses a unique collection of aircraft and relics associated with its history. As Jed and Alexander walk into the display area they are confronted by the looming presence of a dark grey B-52 bomber on loan from USAAF. Around it are arranged displays of aircraft and artefacts that give snapshots of Australian aviation history.

  “That’s one hell of an aircraft,” Alexander comments with passion as she contemplates the B-52. “In fact it looks downright menacing just sitting on the ground!”

  “Just imagine that roaring overhead at tree top height at four hundred knots in the dead of night! It would wake the dead! Come and I’ll show you something,” Jed replies.

  He takes her around the nose of the bomber to stand in front of a display comprising a large piece of aircraft wreckage. “This is the tail section of a P-40 Kittyhawk shot down by Japanese Zeros on February 19 1942 during the first air raid on Darwin. It was flown by a Lt. Peres who was probably the first allied casualty on Australian soil. He and nine others were on their way
to Timor but had to turn back because of weather. Peres and four others were left on top cover as the remainder landed to refuel. He was shot down just as the attacking Zeros were spotted by the flight leader. All ten aircraft were blasted from the sky and most of the pilots were killed. This took place about a month before Karl left for the Philippines.”

  He watches her study the olive-green aluminium wreckage with an intense concentration. Still visible are the bullet holes from the Japanese guns that hammered the aircraft from the sky. Alexander slowly leans forward and touches the surface of the elevator with her fingertips.

  “This is the closest I’ve come to connecting with Karl’s time,” she whispers softly, still caressing the metal. Jed reflects that to many people, it might be just a piece of metal from an old aeroplane. To anyone with imagination who understands history, it is a connection with a turbulent past. Alexander obviously has a connection stronger than most.

  After a minute or two, Alexander looks up with hesitation and gives a faint smile. “Gran had let Karl know she was pregnant and wanted him to get home for the birth,” she explains. “Karl was determined to try his best to make it but he never came back and was never found. Gran blamed my mother for his death, even though she wasn’t even born at the time! I guess she felt guilty about pressuring him and transferred the guilt to her child. Even I felt the repercussions while growing up.”

  “It’s not the only story I’ve come across like that, Alexander. They were traumatic times for much of the world and individuals were swept up in events way beyond their control,” Jed says. He often thinks about his own parents, Austrian and Polish, and the stories they shared on the few occasions their guard slipped down.

  “He sent a letter back with one of the other planes,” Alexander adds, “as if he wasn’t expecting to get back alive.”