As the Tri-Motor Ford soared through the night sky, Earhart and Reverend Psalm talked while the Sensei slept.
This thing flies real smooth Earhart.
I pride myself on the upkeep of my aircraft. Any ideas on your mysterious sender?
Not a clue. The request started after my parish was shot up by some corpos.
That's awful to hear. Sorry that happened.
My flock has returned home to be with the lord.
If you say so.
How long will it be till we reach New Shanghai?
About 12 hours. I'll land at six hours in to refuel, then we'll arrive after another six of flying. You might as well get some shuteye. Nothing interesting going on.
Alright, wake if if anything happens.
As the Reverend laid down, Earhart kept the Tri-Motor at 80% flight power. However, about four hours into the flight, Earhart noticed there was something following them. He pulled down his inflight intercom radio and woke the two up.
We have a problem you two. Get up here now!
What is it? Engine trouble?
No worse. We have a tail.
No shit, this is an airplane.
No, not that moron, we have a tail as in we are being followed. Shuttle is in our vapor trail. I noticed as the wind sheer they're making is pushing us faster.
How can you tell?
The speedometer. I'm at 80% throttle and we're pushing speeds as if we're doing 100% throttle.
If we land in two hours, they'll be on our asses.
Exactly, so both of you close that door and strap in.
Why? Doesn't this thing have guns?
No, it was a passenger hauler! No guns, now sit down and strap in. I'll lose em in the clouds.
As the two strap in and put on a headset, Earhart pulls back on the yoke pulling the Tri-Motor upwards. The Corporate Shuttle tries to follow them into the clouds but loses sight of them.
Where the hell are they?
No tracking beacon on a plane that old sir. We had them by sight alone.
Fuck me, any radar still working?
No sir, not since the switch to shuttles.
Fuck me. You'd better find that plane.
As the Tri-Motor rips through the clouds, the once smooth flight had become turbulent. Neither of you best get air sick.
We won't.
Good, because it's about to get bumpy. Hold on!
Earhart pushed the plane into a nose dive, well out of sight of the shuttle, which was still searching the clouds.
Landing strip ahead! Psalms, hands on that yoke. I need help with this.
Alright, what now?
Flaps at a quarter, and when I say, pull the throttles down.
Okay....
Throttle down now!
How far?
No throttle at all!
The Tri-Motor drops a quarter flap and glides over the ground. As the wheels touch the ground, Earhart brakes and slows the plane down. Overhead, the shuttle turns on its searchlights, still believing they were in front of them. As the Tri-Motor taxis into a stall, a few workers rush out and chalk the plane. As Earhart shuts down everything, he goes outside and pays for AV Fuel. Once he was back inside, they discussed their next move.
You two best go stretch your legs, get a few drinks and snacks while you're at it.
You sure?
I'm not leaving our only mode of transportation unguarded. Go, bring me back some jerky.
As the two headed inside, Earhart did some checks on the motors as he waited. After about twenty minutes, the two returned followed by a flight controller.
Sir, you are hereby ground until a storm system passes.
Excuse me?
You are an amateur pilot, and aren't permitted to fly.
Excuse the fuck outta me? I'll have you know I am an expert with the accredited hours to back me. Fuck off my plane before I throw you off.
Do you have your flight logs to prove your claim?
Earhart hands the man a large and hefty book. Satisfied? I'd like to be off the ground when the storm rolls in.
Not even....
Before the Controller could finish, Earhart punch started the three massive engines. The Controller almost fell out of the plane. He held on and looked at Earhart.
Are you mad? A plane of this age wouldn't last more than a second in that storm!
Earhart pointed his 1911 pistol at the Controller. Get the fuck off of my plane. And with all due respect, you've never flown one of these in your sorry excuse for a life. Things were better when shmucks like you were forever grounded. Now get the fuck off my plane.
The Controller hops off and the Tri-Motor rumbled down the taxiway. However, rather than proceed to the runway, Earhart lines the Tri-Motor up on the taxiway.
Earhart this is a taxiway... A REALLY SHORT ONE AT THAT!
I will not be relegated to the sidelines. The Tuskegee Airmen weren't so neither will I. Strap in, things are about to get rough.
Earhart hammers down the throttle and the Tri-Motor guns it down the taxiway.
HOLY SHIT!
LANGUAGE SENSEI LIGHT! I'D RATHER NOT GO TO HELL OVER LANGUAGE!
As the plane lifts into the sky, Earhart skims over the building where the Controller is watching them. Earhart makes sure to flip him off as the passes the tower.
Fuck yea! You two still alive back there?
Yes... Let's not do that again.... Please.
Whatever you say Reverend. Onward to New Shanghai!
The Tri-Motor Ford rips into the open sky climbing over the storm. The massive tower of clouds, the occasional flash of lightning, it was a dream come true for Earhart.
Strap in, looks like things are about to get bumpy.
The two scream as Earhart dodges bolts of lightning and keeps the Tri-Motor Ford aloft all the way to New Shanghai.
After hours of insane maneuvers, Earhart calls the other two up to the cockpit to take a look. On our left, the massive city of New Shanghai! Landing in 10 minutes. Strap in.
As the Tri-Motor Ford lands and rumbles into a stall. The three grab their gear and get ready for their adventure.