Thin Blood Thick Water (Clueless Resolutions Book 2) by W B Garalt Read Free Book Online

Maggie after the second warning notice.
    “This is a little odd,” he said through their earphone intercom system. “A half-hour ago that Beechcraft was one mile to our rear and slightly above. Now we hear that she (referencing the obviously female pilot’s radio voice, which they had both heard) is still in the same position, directly behind us.”
    “Is that unusual?” Maggie asked.
    “It could be a coincidence, but the cruising speed of that twin-engine plane is at least thirty five miles-per-hour faster than this one. I know that because I took a check-out flight with Brad in the Beechcraft we have in the USAP fleet. It’s about the same size as this airplane but a lot faster,” Max responded. “She’s going in the same direction and should be way ahead of us by now,” he reasoned.
    After 3 hours and 10 minutes of flight they were 20 miles west of Shear Water Airport. The third and final position report was identical to the first two.  Again, the Beechcraft acknowledged them but they could not see the Beechcraft.
    “I’ve had enough of this,” Max said to his ‘co-pilot’ with irritation surfacing in his voice.  He throttled back and lowered the wing flaps one-third and the airplane slowed. Maggie watched the air speed indicator swing back to 100mph.
    “We’re still going pretty fast,” she commented.
    “Not really,” Max said, “keep an eye up above and in front.”  After approximately 3 minutes the twin-engine Beechcraft slowly passed above, slightly to the right of their position.  It seemed to accelerate as it banked slightly and turned to the left.   “This is De Havilland Charlie 2, I have the Beechcraft Bonanza in sight,” Max belatedly radioed to the flight monitor, as he pushed the throttle forward and raised the flaps. The other airplane was soon out of sight.  There were no other airplanes within sight or within identification range after that.  At that point the instruction came over the radio to change radio frequency to Halifax Flight Control as they neared their destination.
    “We’re on our own now,” Max indicated to Maggie. Following his flight plan instructions he began to descend to 1500 ft. and turn the plane on a northward course until the Nova Scotia coast line could be seen ahead.
    “According to Chip, we have to check this map and find Halifax Bay,” Max instructed. “At the opening of the bay we have to get down around 1000 ft. altitude using the console-mounted elevation radar /sonar unit.  As we see a river branch off to the left, we fly up the river at 400-500 ft. elevation until we see a small island on the right. That’s when we land and taxi into a cove on the island where there’s a green-colored double-wide boathouse straight ahead. We dial this number on the cellphone and the doors will open, and we taxi right in.”
    Maggie spotted the river opening off the west side of the bay and poked Max’s shoulder as she pointed it out.  Max activated the radar/sonar screen mounted on the center console, turned off the auto pilot which had maintained the aircraft’s altitude, and lowered their elevation to the 1000 ft. mark on the radar altitude display.  As they entered the mouth of the narrow river, flaps were lowered to ‘landing’ position. Max throttled back and lowered the floatplane to 400ft.  The island loomed up ahead but a crosswind was pushing the aircraft toward the left river bank. Applying right ruder and holding it there, Max cut the throttle and the DHC2 settled onto the choppy water surface.  Moving toward the island, the small cove opening appeared on an angle to the right.  While steering the floatplane into the cove, Max pointed to the cell phone number written on the map and Maggie dialed it.  The boathouse doors opened as if activated by a garage door opener.  Taxing slowly between the side beams, Max cut the engine to let the floatplane coast, with the propeller stopped, into an inflated canvass cushion surrounding the