Flying Too Close to the Sun George Jehn (best non fiction books of all time .txt) 📖

them inside. His wife and children were in the garden, so it was just the three of them. Awkward pleasantries were exchanged and Daly got right into the business at hand.

“What is your financial situation?”

“I’m not a millionaire, but I do okay.”

“We know you’re an air traffic controller.” Francis began to speak, but Daly cut him off. “We also know about your near miss problem at work, and—”

“That wasn’t my fault. The other controller—”

“That’s not why we’re here. This concerns another matter.”

“What?”

“We’re not at liberty to say, but it involves stolen money.”

“Stolen money?” An incredulous Francis told them, “I don’t know anything about that.”

“Then for starters we presume you wouldn’t mind giving us your cellphone if you have one, computer and internet provider so we can check out some items. They’ll be returned to you shortly.”

He started rapidly tapping his feet and small beads of perspiration formed on his upper lip. “You can have my cellphone, but the laptop computer contains confidential information I don’t want anyone to view.”

“Look,” an angry Morganthaler stated, “we can either do this the easy way or the hard way. We can and will get a court order for the computer, within a few minutes.”

Francis was visibly upset, but went into another room, returning a few moments later with a laptop. “All I ask is that you don’t tell my wife,” as he handed it to Daly.

“Tell her what?” he asked in his best Father Confessor voice. “This relate to the theft? Is there anything else you want to tell me?” almost adding, “my son.”

“No. You’ll see.”

“Is this your only computer?”

“Yes.”

“We’ll find out if you’re lying. And, if you try to clear out, you’ll be tracked down.”

“I’m not.”

.     .     .

A subsequent check of the computer’s hard drive at the FBI’s lab showed Francis fear was caused by his gawking at naked boys and girls in various sexual acts. He paid the substantial charges that went along with his leering. But since all the participants were purportedly at least eighteen years of age, no action was taken. His computer was eventually sent back to him, with nothing further said. Another dead end.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Erik flew a morning shuttle the following week with O’Brien in command. Under FAA regulations the minimum requirement is every pilot, including the chief pilot must have a minimum of three takeoffs and three landings every ninety days. Erik thought perhaps O’Brien was simply meeting that obligation? This appeared to be so when he informed the disappointed copilot he would be handling every takeoff and landing. The bright, blue hue of the sky made the high thin cirrus clouds resemble white sheets billowing softly on a clothesline in a light breeze. The weather conditions might have been nice, but the cockpit atmosphere O’Brien radiated was more akin to an approaching cloudburst. The vibes were so ominous Erik felt like a frightening tsunami was gathering, about to break. Not Mother Nature, but the crushing power of corporate America.

Although the two roundtrips came off without a hitch, Erik sensed his every move was being watched. This was confirmed when O’Brien told him to report to his office after the final leg. Could he make it there with all the weight he was carrying on his shoulders? The acrid stench of fear and tension screamed out that his entire life might be at stake. The room was eerily silent except for a wall clock loudly ticking in the background. After what seemed like an eternity, a stern-faced O’Brien emerged and motioned him inside. Erik took the seat on one side of the huge desk adorned with a model Shuttle Air 727. As O’Brien sat down his immense belly pressed against the other side. “All right, let’s get right down to business. The top bosses have been notified by the police that you’re under investigation concerning the theft of money missing off one of our flights.”

Erik’s felt his heart fluttering like the leaves on a tree just before a storm, his hands gripping the arms of the chair so hard his knuckles hurt. Did the cops uncover something? Were they going to take him into custody?

“I flew today to check on your performance and also questioned Captain Shepard about your work. She reported you do an excellent job and are a loyal employee.”

Erik breathed a slight sigh of relief, making a mental note to thank her.

“Shuttle Air has invested beaucoup bucks in your training. Your flight engineer’s license cost us approximately sixty thousand. If you leave the employ of Shuttle Air for any reason during your first two years, you signed an agreement to reimburse us that amount.”

Erik felt his stomach churning like the sea before a powerful storm.

“The police investigation also uncovered you are about to default on a sizeable bank loan, approximately forty thousand dollars.”

“I—”

“I’m not finished. As to the missing money, all the police will say is the flight crew is suspect. I doubt Captain Shepard or First Officer Montgomery would have any involvement in that sort of thing and told them so. You, however, I don’t know about and I’m very troubled about your bank debt. Let me read what’s contained in our Flight Operations Manual as it relates to this.” O’Brien picked up the thick book and began to thumb through it.

“I’m already familiar with that passage. I’ve missed only one payment and plan on speaking with the bank to see if an arrangement can be worked out ‘til next year, when—.”

“Don’t bother. Their collections manager called me and you have only fifteen more days. There aren’t going to be any more extensions. You’ll have to come up with all the money by then or I’ll fire you—period. That means you’ll not only owe the money to the bank, you’ll also be on the hook for our sixty grand.” O’Brien looked at a paper lying in front of him on the desk and shook his head. “I cannot understand why you were hired with knowledge of this financial