At Monument Valley, Mikey Marty Murph was introducing the
Jenny Bird Band, also out of Taos. The guys were listening in,
picking it up on the ADF, the speakers cranked up. In a short while,
though, Gena had them turning on the Sarajevo frequencies to feel
out the situation and get the meteorology.
        They were still pretty loose, except for Kit. His concern for the
girls was growing with each mile. They cruised on at 7,ooo feet, Gen
telling them that that would be the elevation at Sara. And Kit was
hoping verbally that they would be able to get back out of Jevo before
daylight. It was a somewhat calming sight outside, though, with the
waning moonlight reflecting off the Adriatic's waves and lightning
from dissipating storms lighting up the clouds in several directions, far
away from them.
        "This sure is a jump from the Eagle," Jess broke their silence
and the drone of the engines and the sound of the air rushing by
outside as she looked through her side window at the big radial engine
and wing.
        "Fuuuu..." Flece perked up, "this is one fucking dam 'fee-rocious'
jump from 'Kin'-TUCKy!...No one's going to believe this back home,
my big homey."
        "Yee haw, Flee...we are out here or WHAT!" Jess came back,
grabbing Kit's left hand and leaning forward to look out the windshield
up at the stars, wondering if they would see any new message. And
darn if an amazingly huge strand of lightning in a distant storm just off
to the South of their destination didn't light up a gigantic cumulus
thunderhead that looked like Lioneagle and Goldenswan looking
directly at them!
        "You see THAT, Code?!" Jessy yelled.
        "Yeah!...God!...Jeezuz......" Kit replied, his jaw remaining
dropped.
        The others asked what they were seeing and Jess explained.
Gen and Will nodded with aviators' understanding; Flece got
goosebumps and tears and shook her head in wonder.
        They cruised on at just under their 18o miles per hour, the
horses roaring away outside. Then Sarajevo radio crackled over the
speakers, giving a general advisory about possible ground fire near
the airport. The word was out. The Serbs didn't want any
humanitarian missions screwing up their holocaust. The report
hushed the guys up a little, but then they went over their plan again -
to come straight in on the deck. There were Croats, Muslims, Serbs,
UN, NATO and US forces all involved: secure airspace was a crap
shoot. The airport itself, and pretty much of the city, was secure,
though. Or so the report went. And the guys expressed their hope
that it was accurate. Gena and Will were saying it probably was.
        "Sure is bon to have you guys along...thanks for coming," Jess
said, looking back to their new friends.
        "It's kind of an honor, Jessy," Will answered, and Jess reached
a hand back to touch their's and Flee's, then leaned over and kissed
Kit.
        "Well, captains...tally HO!" she cheered as she leaned back over
to her side of the glanpit and, looking out ahead, saw the lights from
the Balkan shores coming into view. Kit gave her a concerned smile.
        Gena checked the navigation and Will started passing out the
flak jackets. They all put them on and draped the extra ones over
their legs. Then Jess and Kit donned their night vision goggles as Will
passed around the helmets and they talked over the possible situations,
very serioused up.
        Up in Holland, the WPG law team was preparing the case for
the World Court. John Kennedy, Jr. was working with the other
barristers on it. And BR was flying in. Back in the States, with
evening nearly upon him, the President was still on the phones and
in a meeting, all of it about the WPG cause. All the stars and
performers, fired up by the World Court's surprise, were preparing to
go around the clock in meetings with leaders. The agents and military
advocates were losing ground fast, the former still trying to pick up
the trail on our guys, though by then getting some leads steering them
to Bari.
        The real pressure, though, was on the World Court Justices, an
army of protectors around them and their residences. But, then, the
fickle finger of Fate was still where it has always been - on the ones
caught in the throes of war or totalitarian regimes or famine or other.
And WPG volunteers were all over the planet trying to alleviate the
horror and terror as our guys flew on toward Sarajevo that night.
        Jessy was growing up right before their very eyes. Felecia, too.
Maybe the last growing up they would have to do, at least for some
while, Kit thought. It was a privelege to observe, he told us. And
they were bringing in very much-needed stuff for the non-Serb side
of that particular war. They had chosen sides. But they liked their
choice. The Serbs were committing genocide. Ethnic extermination.
Humanicide. We all know it now.
        "How some people think is just beyond me," Jess remarked as
they discussed it all.
        Anyway, Gena and Will were firing off what tips they could
think of up front to Jess and Kit as the lights of Dubrovnik filled the
windshield. They dialed in Sarajevo Approach and got their traffic
and other information. Flece was reading Pute's screen on her lap
and reporting anything pertinent to the guys. P was on the modem
and getting Cy's feed on anything she could pick up from Sarajevo.
        The airport still being declared open and safe was coming over
both the computer and radio, the approach area having been
checked by everyone not Serb. And soon our heroines and heros
were seeing the lights of Sara up ahead.
        Pute was nailing the navigation, Flece feeding him the GPS
figures. They were right on course and time. They had a little
crosswind, but they were on line with the runway, getting closer and
closer to the ground as it came up to their altitude. They were busy
with the landing checklist when Vince Gill came on at Monument
and started with "I Still Believe In You", they heard on their portable
radio on the floor by Flee. Jess asked her to turn it up and reached
for Kit's hand.
        There was fog down in the craws of the landscape, and some
reported on the airport, plus some "scud" - low clouds - left over
from that "storm with the Natives", they realized.
        "That won't make it any easier," Jess commented, though
adding that it could also give them a little safety from potential
shooters. But you know pilots. Always making it sound tougher than
it is.
        "If we have to go around we have to go around, highness,"
Kit instructed.
        "It should be all right," Gena pitched in with the benefit of her
experience.
        "Dropping flaps ten," Kit came back.
        "Rodjo," Jess answered him, looking for the ground. Kit kept
his eyes on the instruments and helped Jessy on the controls.
        Gena leaned forward and dialed in the Tower, then made the
call. They were told that they were number one for the runway and
things were safe, caution the fog. Will advised them that he was
switching the fuel tanks to the mains. And Clint Black had come on
the Monument stage and started in on "No Time To Kill". The fog
thinned out and the sky brightened from the city lights, then the
Dineric Alps and the slightly foggy airport up ahead filled their
windows after they passed through a bank of scud clouds.
        Jess called for the landing gear as Kit started to push the handle
down and the green lights lit up after they heard the thunks. Then it
was flaps 3o. And they moved the controls, flipped some more
toggles and pushed the props up as they skimmed over the treetops
below.
        Then they heard the pops on the right side of the fuselage!
Five, six, seven of them!
        "BULLETS!" Will yelled out.
        They quickly looked around to see that everyone was all right.
Everyone was. Then the runway was "made". Kit put in the last of
the flaps and Jess came back on the power some as they crossed the
threshold, then chopped the power as she flared them out over the
runway and the big main tires screeched as they felt the touchdown -
barely - then swayed a little across the centerline as Jessy settled
down, then let the tail down as they slowed, swaying more again
when the tail wheel grabbed the pavement and the nose blocked
their view out ahead.
        "Great job, Jessy!" Will cheered out as they rolled onto the
taxiway and Gena signed off with Tower then dialed up Ground
Control and made that call as Jess and Kit took their goggles off
and turned on the landing lights.
        "Hoo hoo, super fly girl!" Flee yelled as they all got their
helmets off. And they rolled toward the people signalling them
from the ramp, got stopped and shut the engines down as the
ground crew opened up the cargo door and started unloading,
yelling all kinds of good words to them up there in Lollypop's
groinpit.
        Flece popped the cork on the champagne bottle they had
brought and filled their coffee cups as they took turns
congratulating, shaking, slapping and toasting each other as they
unbelted and got their flak jackets off. After some minutes of the
revelry, they walked down the "hill" to the door, jumped out onto
the tarmac and started meeting everyone and helping with the
unloading.
 
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