Stone Barrington 27 - Doing Hard Time
had been windy during the night, and the site was not only undisturbed, but now invisible.
He was walking back to the filling station when he heard the whistling of a turbine engine overhead. He looked up to see a single-engine airplane circling the filling station’s airstrip, much as he himself had done a couple of weeks before. Shortly, the aircraft turned on a final approach to the strip, but the pilot seemed to be having problems with setting the power for landing. He abandoned his first approach and went around, but continued to have problems with airspeed, rising and falling on approach. His landing was hard and barely controlled.
Teddy waved him over to a parking spot and waited while the pilot took five minutes to get everything shut down as per the checklist. The airplane, he knew, was a late-model Piper Malibu Mirage that had been converted to a turboprop with the installation of a Pratt & Whitney jet engine turning a propeller. Teddy had read articles about it and had even ordered a brochure from the engine converters, JetPROP Aviation, in Spokane, Washington. He had considered buying one, but had never managed to make the decision.
Finally, the pilot exited the airplane via the little airstair door, mopping his face with a handkerchief. “Shit!” he said, as he approached Teddy, his hand out. “That was a really shitty landing, wasn’t it?”
“I’ve seen worse,” Teddy said, “but not much worse.”
The man laughed. I’m Howard Strunk,” he said. “I just bought this goddamned thing, and I miss my old 182 bad.”
“Have you had any instruction in it?” Teddy asked.
“I had one day with a guy,” Strunk said, “then he got the flu, then I got the flu, and by the time I was out of bed, he was long gone. I reckoned I just needed some time in the left seat and I could do it alone. I’m starting to believe I was wrong. You got any jet fuel here?”
“I’m afraid not,” Teddy said, “but from what I’ve read about that airplane, you can add enough 100 Low Lead aviation fuel to your tanks for a flight over to Gallup, where they’ve got Jet A.”
“Have you got a cold drink around here?” Strunk asked.
“Sure, come on inside, and we’ll find you a Coke.”
Strunk stopped at Teddy’s 182 RG and walked around it. “Can I have a look inside?” he asked.
“It’s unlocked.”
Teddy waited while Strunk had a good look at the avionics, then he took the man inside and put a cold Coke in his hand. Strunk collapsed into the old leather armchair in the office. He downed the Coke in one long swig. “Gotta get my blood sugar back up,” he said. “Haven’t eaten all day.”
Teddy got him some cheese and crackers from the vending machine and another Coke, and he gradually stopped looking so shaky.
“Where you from?” Teddy asked.
“Las Vegas, New Mexico, east of Santa Fe. I been flying around all day, trying to get a handle on that airplane, and I haven’t made it.”
“There’s a motel over there, if you want to get a night’s rest,” Teddy said. “If you don’t want to add the 100LL to your tanks, I’ll drive over to Gallup and get you fifty gallons of Jet A in jerry cans.”
Strunk thought about that. “Is that your 182 out back?”
“Sure is. It’s a retractable.”
“Nice one.”
“Thanks. I do all my own maintenance, and I put a Garmin glass panel in it.”
“I saw that.”
An idea was forming in Teddy’s mind, and he thought that all he had to do to make it work was nothing.
“Now, that is my kind of airplane,” he said, “and you’ve made it beautiful. How old is it?”
“One of the last dozen manufactured, before they shut down, then started up again,” Teddy said.
Strunk asked some questions about the avionics and seemed satisfied with the answers. “Would you consider a trade?” he asked.
“You mean a swap? Mine for yours?”
“That’s exactly right. I’ll give you the deal of a lifetime.”
“You mean you want to take a bath on that like-new turboprop, just to get back into an airplane you feel comfortable in?”
“I can afford the bath,” Strunk said. “I’m an impatient man, and I’m what you might call a highly motivated seller. Can I see your logbooks?”
Teddy went to the office closet and retrieved a nylon briefcase. “All the records are in there,” he said, handing it over.
“Mine are in a leather bag on the rear seat,” Strunk said. “You go have a look, then we’ll talk.”
The two men perused
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