Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Author: Willy Tamarack
Title: Surfers Rule
Part: 7 of 11
Universe:
Summary:
Keywords: (love story, adventure, war viol)
Language: English


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   @(C) 1996-2015 Willy Tamarack Commercial use in any form requires the
written permission of the author and will ensure a portion of the proceeds
goes to the National Organization for the Reform of Marijuana Laws (NORML).

   Surfers Rule

   by

   Willy Tamarack

   With thanks to the founding fathers and the U.S.  Constitution

   Chapter Nineteen

   Javier was sitting in a jeep parked under the jungle canopy at the south
end of the runway.  It would start to get light soon.  They had installed
lights at this airfield over a year ago when somebody decided to try night
flying.  Unfortunately, the experiment was a failure but the lights
remained.  No one had ever used them to land at night, just to takeoff. 
Several of the men had voiced the opinion that whoever tried to land at
night was dead meat for the animals out here.

   The radio came alive.  They were here, saying something about landing.
Javier looked at his watch.  It was just a little before six.  Moments
later, "Lights...Lights...Lights," came in loud and clear over the radio.
Javier waved to his man on the generator.  The lights came on instantly. 
He looked to the north.  The man with the binoculars was waving his hand
then pointing, yelling he could see them.

   Javier squinted his eyes, looking to the north and all of a sudden a
landing light shown in the dark, night sky.  It was high, coming down
steeply, rapidly.  He yelled for his men to get out of the turn-about.  The
three, who were going to do the refueling, were scattering.  Javier crossed
himself.

   *****

   Craig held the attitude until the wheels slammed down on to the runway.
Ed was right there.  The landing was more than a little firm and they lost
about ten knots compressing the struts fully.  They were long and hot,
still above eighty knots when Ed wondered if they were going to get
stopped. He saw Craig's flaps come up.  Ed slapped at his flap handle and
took a glance to see the gage was moving.  They had less than a thousand
feet left and Ed could see men scattering from the turn-about.

   Very calmly, over fox mike, Craig stated, "This is going to be close."

   Ed had the brakes fully pressed to the floor and was slowing faster than
Craig.  He was able to stop before entering the turn-about.  Craig's A-1
entered the turn-about and swung to the west.  Ed watched Craig move from
the left side to the right side of his cowling.  The lead A-1 finally came
to a stop.

   "Fuck !  That was close.  Sorry, Ed."

   "No sweat, Malibu.  Let me turn around.  I'll pull down a couple of
hundred feet and you've got some room to maneuver."

   "Thanks, old man."

   *****

   Finally they were stopped.  Javier was impressed with their size.  They
were huge, standing three times a man's height.  These were war machines
not dope transports !  The engines were very loud, drowning out the sound
of the generator.  Javier put his hands over his ears.  The war machines
were moving again.  He was relieved they hadn't ended up off the end of the
runway in a jumble of metal.  Felix wouldn't have been pleased.  But this
evening, when he brought them breakfast, he was going to be very
impressed...Very impressed indeed !  The airplanes were shutting down, the
huge propellers slowly coming to a stop.  Javier's men were rushing toward
the A-1's.  The pilots were climbing down and his men were already lifting
the tail of the lead aircraft.  The airplane was moving.

   The pilots were both wearing gray helmets with clear plastic face
shields.  The old man was wearing eye glasses.  That and their height was
the only way Javier could tell them apart.  Other than that they were
dressed identically, white "T" shirts, blue jeans with worn cowboy boots.
The helmets were coming off.  Javier was approaching them.

   "Buenos dias, Javier." The relief in Ed's voice was evident.

   "Good to see you, old man.  This must be the famous Malibu." Javier held
out his hand and Craig Hansen shook it.

   Two older men stood off to the right.  Craig recognized them.  "Hola,
amigos !  Long time no see.  Surfer Girl said to say `Hola !'" The two men
were beaming and came forward to shake hands with Craig.

   "Come, amigos.  The trailer is about a hundred and fifty meters away. 
The boss man will be here tonight to see you off." Javier headed off
through the jungle.  His men were throwing camouflage netting over the
airplanes.  The sun was just breaking the horizon to the east, the jungle
here still bathed in dark shadow.

   *****

   Juan Motay typed the last three words and then read the short message
again.  He sat back in the chair.  Was it really possible that this hobby
of his just might become reality ?!  Serves him right for selling the woman
short.  He had put off informing the other cartels, fearing their ridicule
when nothing happened.  Then just now, moments ago on the phone, the
inflection in Javier's voice sent chills through him.

   "Boss, it's Javier...They're here !  Jesus Christ !  You're not going to
believe what you see here.  These are war machines !  They almost ran off
the end but we got them netted and the guards are posted."

   Juan looked down at the computer screen and sent the following message:
From: felix
To: wicked widow

   Arrived safely.  Bueno suerte, senora.

   Felix left his office to dress for the trip to the jungle air field. 
How should he play it with his competitors ?  Any warning now, how ever
vague, would draw attention to himself.  He couldn't afford that.  He would
remain silent and make sure that he was well concealed if the attack proved
successful.

   *****

   The guard had been on duty since the perimeter had been set up.  That
was going on twenty-four hours now.  Early this morning he heard an
airplane landing.  It must have been a large airplane because it was very
noisy even as far away as he was.  He figured two kilometers at least.  No
one had come through their road block and he knew of only five men with
Javier at the airfield.  A vehicle was approaching.  He trained the flood
lights on the vehicle as it slowed for the road block.  His superior was
yelling in his direction.

   "Turn off the lights !  Turn off the lights !" The vehicle was coming to
a stop.  The guard turned off the lights.

   Felix observed the road block from the front seat of the jeep.  It was
well staffed and no one appeared to be fucking off.  Felix was pleased. 
This is what he was looking for.  He would admit this operation brought a
certain amount of fear to him.  This was a big slap to the face of el hefe,
los estados unidos.  That scared him, especially since he was a hunted man
already.  He waved his driver through after exchanging a few words with the
man in charge.

   A few minutes later, the driver stopped the jeep about ten meters away
from the netting that was covering the war machines.  Javier was right. 
They were huge.  Much larger than he imagined.

   *****

   Craig rolled over and found the old man on the floor doing his
stretching routine.  He was on his back, pulling his right knee up into his
chest.  The generator could be heard in the background.  Ed's breathing was
just a bit louder than the generator.

   "How'd you sleep, `old man' ?"

   Ed looked up at him.  "The air conditioning was better than Southeast
Asia.  I didn't hear any gunfire during the day.  All in all I figure it
was a good day in a combat zone, sonny." Ed had his game face on.  "I heard
a jeep arrive a little while ago.  Might be Felix ?  Nice guy.  I liked
him, Malibu."

   *****

   Javier was fifty meters away, running out of the jungle.  He was still
winded when he stopped a meter away.

   "I think the pilots are up, boss."

   "You were right, Javier.  They are very impressive.  What do they look
like without the netting ?"

   "Dangerous, boss.  Are you doing what I think you are doing ?"

   "Right now, Javier, it is best not to think too much, comprende ?"

   "Yes, boss.  The trailer is this way."

   The walk took about three minutes and neither man spoke.  Felix put a
hand on Javier's shoulder.  "Stay here." Felix continued on to the trailer
that was over twenty meters away.  He knocked.  Malibu rolled up off his
air mattress and moved toward the door.  Ed remained on his back on the
floor.

   Craig pushed the door open.  "Wow !  Que pasa, amigo !" Craig exclaimed
as Felix stepped up into the trailer.  Javier watched the men embracing
until the trailer door swung closed.

   "You're looking good, Malibu.  How's Surfer Girl ?  You gonna show some
people what a hot fighter pilot you are ?" Craig pushed him away.

   "Yes, we are, Felix, with extreme prejudice." Craig formed his hands
into pistols and started shooting like a cowboy, from the hip.  Felix was
laughing like crazy.  Ed was rolling his eyes at the ceiling.

   "Old man, nice to see you again, amigo.  How's the wicked widow ?"

   Ed waved, then got to his feet and shook hands with Felix.  "Fine,
Felix. She's fine."

   Felix sat down in the dining area of the trailer.  "Hey, old man !  My
contact managed to get his hands on this." He held out a crumpled piece of
paper.  "It's got some frequencies on it but I'm not sure they're any good.
My source said all the pilots are complaining about flying only practice
missions." Craig and Ed looked at each other.  They both realized that if
the frequencies were still being used, they could use it against them.  A
lot of "P"s were starting to fall into place.

   "Can I sit in one before you guys leave ?" He was looking at Craig.  Ed
started laughing.

   "Sure, Felix.  We'll even take your picture and you can send it to the
Peruvians after we smoke one of their Dragonflys." Ed had that thin, short
smile of his displayed.

   Craig stated matter of factly, "You might want to disappear for the next
couple of years, Felix.  You fucking dopers are the ones who are going to
catch all the shit.  Surfer Girl and I are going to be sipping umbrella
drinks in some exotic location...Peru ?  Where's Peru ?"

   "I mentioned that to Isabel the first time we discussed this idea of
hers but never imagined that..."

   "Neither did I, Juan." Ed interrupted.  He was dressed.  "When do we eat
?  I'm starved."

   Chapter Twenty

   Felix and Javier stood together in the jungle.  They were watching the
dark shapes, that were the war machines, maneuver around in the turn-about.
Their wing and tail lights moving here and there.  They were loud.  Both of
the men were holding their hands to their ears.

   Now the A-1s were lined up on the runway and running up their engines.
The noise was deafening.  One of their landing lights came on and they were
moving.  Felix was surprised at the acceleration compared to the transport
planes he was familiar with.  The war machines were airborne, gear coming
up, staying low to the ground.  Now they were zooming up into the night sky
and in an instant their lights disappeared from sight.

   "Javier, make it look like we were never here.  All of it goes.  Burn
it...Whatever...Just make it disappear.  Comprende ?" Felix moved off
toward his jeep.

   "Yes, boss.  I understand."

   The perimeter guard was walking the road when he heard them start up. 
He left the road and made his way through the jungle towards the runway. 
It was a long shot but it looked like a large twin engine airplane.  This
might earn him some extra money if the right people heard this ?  He
hurried back to the road and walked back to his post.

   *****

   The night sky was black, moonless but scattered with stars.  The ground
was just black.  A while back there was some dim light on the horizon to
the southwest.  Had to be Benjamin Constant, Brazil.  The A-1s were
cruising at twenty-one thousand.  Felix had arranged for them to pick up a
clearance over some reporting point in southern Columbia.

   It was approaching zero two hundred hours.  The lights of Manaus had
been visible for a while and they had started down.  The A-1s were passing
five thousand feet and just twenty miles out before Craig reported to the
tower.  It took a long minute before they received clearance and the runway
lights came on.

   "Gear, now." Ed was welded to the right wing.  Craig had the field in
sight with the airspeed falling toward one twenty-five.  For the first time
they would be landing on a real runway with proper runway lights.  This was
a piece of cake and Craig landed them a thousand feet down like a feather.
They rolled out to the end, hardly using the brakes, and Ed stayed welded
to Craig's wing as they followed the truck with "Air Shows, Ltd." painted
on the side.  It led them to a hanger well away from the runway complex.

   There was a dark sedan, with it's parking lights on, parked outside the
hanger.  "Air Shows, Ltd." was painted above the hanger doors.  Ed
recognized Isabel standing with several men just inside the hanger doors.
Two of the men rushed toward the lead A-1 and started to marshal Craig into
the hanger.  Another two rushed toward him and directed him to hold his
position.

   Five minutes later Ed was shut down and the hanger doors were coming
closed.  As he climbed out of the A-1 he noticed Isabel, standing off to
the side, in awe of the war machines she commanded.  Hands on her hips, she
couldn't take her eyes off the A-1s.  Craig was already standing by her
side when Ed approached her.

   "Well, Isabel, are they worth what you paid ?" She took her eyes off the
war machines and looked at Ed.

   "Yes, old man.  I'm very satisfied.  Let's get out of here.  You two are
probably dead tired." The three of them walked off toward the door at the
side of the hanger.  Two minutes later the dark sedan left the airport and
disappeared into the night.

   *****

   "Malibu."

   "Toop."

   Maria, wearing a comm headset identical to Cindy's, was sitting right
next to her in their make-shift command post at the hacienda.  The command
post was actually a partially constructed building located by the river end
of the runway.  It had a tin roof but just two walls.

   It was ten hundred hours Friday morning and already hot and muggy. 
Cindy keyed her mic.  "Welcome to Western Brazil, Malibu.  Chatter mark."

   Craig and Ed immediately switched to the next frequency in their
prearranged list of useable frequencies.  Maria and Cindy had been
listening to a number of frequencies to judge their ability to use them. 
The two young ladies also spent time monitoring the frequencies that were
provided by Felix.  And yes, they were being used by the Peruvian Air Force
when working with the Citation jet.

   "Lead, come left to two zero zero.  Two come right to heading three five
zero."

   Cindy and Maria observed the A-1s turn away from each other on Cindy's
radar display.  Cindy transmitted, "Radar contact, Malibu."

   For the next hour the two A-1s flew ground controlled intercepts against
each other using Cindy's vectors.  Following that, for a half hour, the two
A-1s flew basic fighter maneuvers against each other, checking out their
sights and laser ranging systems.  At the completion of their exercises Ed
took the lead.

   Fifteen minutes later the two A-1's descended to just above water level
on the tributary that led to the hacienda's runway.  Three miles from the
runway, Ed kicked the tail of his A-1 back and forth with the rudder
pedals. Craig banked away from him and Ed started slowing.  The runway was
coming into sight.  Ed lowered his gear.  The three green lights above the
gear handle lit up.  He keyed his mic.

   "Lead's base with gear."

   "Cleared to land, lead." Cindy responded immediately.

   Maria was standing at the open end of their command post watching Ed,
flying just above the water, turning toward the runway.  This was the first
time she had seen anything other than pictures of the airplanes that would
avenge her father's and spouse's deaths.

   The closer the airplane came, the larger it became.  The long propeller
turning so as to be but a blur.  The huge blunt nose of the engine almost
hiding the canopy and pilot from sight.  The long, fat wings stretching out
on either side of the fuselage with the dark holes where the twenty
millimeter cannons resided, the gear hanging down below the wings.  The
wheels touched down within the first couple of feet of runway as Ed flew
the tail wheel for a while before lowering it to the runway.

   Maria got sight of Craig as he followed Ed's flight path.  She looked
down at the other end of the runway and could see the first A-1 taxiing off
the runway and into it's parking spot.  She looked back out at Craig and
followed him as she made her way back to Cindy.  She was taking off her
head set.  Maria was heading to the jeep.  They were both running, off to
meet the conquering heroes.

   Both of the men had climbed down from their cockpits by the time the
girls got to the other end of the runway.  Ed's airplane was already being
refueled and serviced by a two man ground crew, the Bahia brothers.  Craig
was running toward the jeep.

   Cindy and Craig were in each other's arms when Ed joined Maria.  The two
of them had formed a bond from all the flights they shared what seemed like
a very long six weeks ago.  He made her feel like part of the team instead
of just the rich old lady's daughter.  The two of them were sitting in the
front seats of the jeep waiting for Craig and Cindy to join them.

   "And how is your mother been taking all this ?"

   "Nervous...Scared.  She sends five, six emails a day asking if the
equipment still works.  I bet she pissed her panties when you guys arrived.
I just about shit when I saw how big they were.  Oh !  Ed, this is so..."

   "Scary is a good description, Maria.  Dangerous is another good word. 
Don't let this euphoria, you feel now, fool you.  It could be Craig or I
who buys the farm.  The six `P's take you just so far.  After that it's all
who's the luckiest."

   *****

   The CIA agent picked up his messages.  He threw all but one back on the
desk.  His DEA counter part had called.  He picked up the phone and asked
to be connected on a secure line.

   "You rang ?" Asked the CIA guy, being a wise ass.

   "Yea." The DEA agent pulled the file over in front of him before
continuing.  "You may be right about something being up but there is still
no connection to that incident on the border with that other aircraft.  You
got anything more on...Sorry...Getting ahead of myself.  Some info for you.
On two July at about zero six hundred, a large multi engine airplane landed
at a remote airstrip in Columbia.  At twenty-two hundred hours the same day
the airplane departed for parts unknown."

   "Shit...Why didn't you alert us ?  We could have had a P-3 up and
followed it for a thousand miles !"

   "We just got word.  I called you as soon as I read the report.  Low
level informant with ties to the cartels.  Claims to have seen and heard
the airplane takeoff.  Heightened security around the whole operation. 
Could have been a dope pick up but the informant claims there wasn't any
dope there.  Anything more on that other aircraft ?"

   "No.  The only plane that could use that stretch of water is a float
plane and that definitely wasn't a float plane that our aircraft tangled
with on the border.  That's strange about them flying at night.  They've
never flown at night before but that's still not enough to base any plans
on.  I've got nothing to report on this end.  There has been absolutely no
traffic."

   "Well, keep in touch.  Over and out." The DEA agent laughed a little
before breaking the connection.

   The CIA guy made a few notes in his file and then started going through
his IN basket.  It was the third to last message.  It listed a number of
UHF radio intercepts that appeared to be suspicious.  The intercepts were
occurring almost daily on the same frequencies.  They were difficult to
interpret because they were using frequency hopping to...What purpose ? 
Analysts could come to no consensus.

   The contents of the intercepts on 7 Jul follow and are representative of
all intercepts:

   At 10:18:32 hours on 327.4 UHF the intercept consisted of:

   "Malibu"



   "Toop"

   "Good morning, Malibu.  Lead come left to three five zero.  Two heading
one seven zero.  Radar contact.  Chatter mark."

   At 14:58:15 hours on 307.3 UHF the intercept consisted of:

   "Two, target ten o'clock inside three miles.  Start your turn."

   At 14:59:42 hours on 307.3 UHF the intercept consisted of :

   "Tally ho !  Fight's on !  Chatter mark."

   All intercepts coming from western Brazil.  All voices except the "good
morning" comments and the 14:58:15 hours transmission were male.  The two
exceptions were female.  Analysts felt this was unusual for some not
expounded upon reason.

   The CIA guy re-read the report but still didn't understand what was
being communicated.  He got up and faxed the message to the Citation
pilots. They were all ex-fighter jocks, maybe they'd have some ideas ?

   Chapter Twenty-one

   Puffy white clouds covered all quadrants of the area.  Below about five
thousand feet it was clear, well, clear of clouds.  The visibility was not
unlimited but a good seven miles or so.  By this afternoon these puffy
white clouds would be dark and menacing with rain showers covering the
area. Craig was up above the clouds at about ten thousand, picking his way
through the build ups as he descended on an easterly heading.  He was
holding about two hundred and sixty knots, going down hill.

   Ed was below the clouds on the same easterly heading.  His A-1 was but
five hundred feet above the dark green rain forest below.  The sun shown
here and there but for the most part Ed was in the shadows of the puffy
white clouds.  Ed was holding one hundred and fifty knots.

   "Ten miles." Came in loud and clear over both of their radios.

   Craig was coming through six thousand feet and below most of the clouds.
The jungle was almost all shadow.  It would be difficult for anyone to find
an A-1 at tree top level in these conditions.  Afternoon would be more
difficult for all as they found out yesterday.  Craig was pretty sure the
old man saw it the same way he did.

   "Seven miles." Ed flipped on the smoke generator and a trail of bright,
white smoke appeared off his right wing.  He pushed his prop to takeoff
setting and followed with the throttle.  He could feel the machine start to
accelerate, the nose wanting to rise.  He thumbed in a couple of clicks of
forward trim.

   "Tally ho." Craig transmitted when he picked up the smoke trail.  He
couldn't actually see the airplane but could sure see the smoke easily
enough.  Craig was at takeoff power and the airspeed was through two
hundred and eighty knots.  That was almost double what Ed was doing.  The
A-37 would be doing close to three fifty he figured.  Make things happen a
little faster but not that significant.

   "Five miles." Cindy transmitted while staring at her radar display at
the hacienda.  Maria was looking over Cindy's shoulder at the radar screen,
a headset on her ears.

   Ed shut the smoke off and started a two "g" turn to the left.  Craig
transmitted "Lost sight" as soon as the smoke disappeared.  He knew Ed was
out there at sixty degrees of bank and two "g"s turning to the north but he
was beyond visual range.  No Peruvian A-37 pilot was going to pick them up.

   Ed was starting to come out of the turn.  The airspeed was steady at two
hundred forty-five.  He started looking for Craig as he transmitted,
"Snap."

   "Ten o'clock, keep the turn coming." Ed rolled back left, continuing the
turn.  He hadn't turned more than twenty degrees and there he was.  Ed
started climbing while he continued the turn to pull his nose way out in
front of Craig's airplane.  He could see Craig coming down hill just over
the cowling as he gently pulled the airplane around.  The vertical velocity
indicator was steady at eighteen hundred feet a minute, climbing.

   "Tally ho.  Guns in thirty." Ed transmitted.

   Craig knew Ed was out there but just couldn't find him.  Ed must be
pointing right at him.  Jesus !  There he is pulling his nose out front. 
Oh !  This is going to be a great attack.  Craig started to level off. 
Then just as Ed got within about fifteen hundred feet Craig rolled to
ninety degrees of bank and pulled into Ed as he tried to saddle up for a
gun shot.

   Ed was pissed.  He was almost within range.  He rolled wings level and
unloaded.  He didn't have much altitude below him and gained only twenty
knots.  Craig was half a circle away starting to roll out of his turn.  Ed
pulled up into the vertical and kept pulling until he was on his back about
two thousand feet above and behind Craig as he tried to extend away from
the fight.  Ed unloaded and started down after him.

   Craig had lost sight after about ninety degrees of turn.  Ed must have
extended.  The ground was coming up so Craig rolled wings level and headed
off to the north west.  Fifteen seconds later he started a hard turn to the
west, straining to look over his shoulder.

   Ed was coming down hill with a lot of smash, air speed up over two
hundred sixty knots when Craig started the turn to the west.  He pulled his
nose out in front a little more and saddled right up.

   "Guns...Guns...Guns." Ed transmitted as he watched the laser ranging
settle down to eight hundred, nine hundred feet.  The pipper (aiming device
for weapons) was moving from Craig's cowling through the center of the
fuselage.  Ed lag-rolled up behind Craig's A-1 and fell in trail with him.

   Craig didn't see him until it was too late to defend himself.  He was
anticipating watching the gun-sight video when they got home.  Craig
watched Ed drop back into trail and transmitted, "Knock it off."

   Ed repeated the "Knock it off" as Craig started turning to the east. 
They had briefed that they were going to the hacienda to refuel for an
afternoon flight.  The hacienda was behind them.  Craig was rolling his
wings back and forth.  Ed started to rejoin.

   "Little widow, you there ?" Craig transmitted.

   A moment later.  "Here, Malibu.  Chatter mark."

   Craig and Ed both had smiles on their faces as they rotated the dials to
the new frequency.  The first time she talks on the radio and she pushes
them to a new frequency.  Prior planning prevents piss poor performance. 
Maria had learned the six "P"s.

   "Malibu RTB (return to base) home plate.  Tell mama to pack her bags. 
D-day is Saturday.  Chatter mark." Ed felt a chill run through him after
Craig's transmission but had to admit it was the right call.  The last
three missions had been nothing but simulations with just a few basic
fighter maneuvers at end of each simulation.  And except for yesterday's
afternoon sortie in the rain showers, they'd all gone very well.

   Back at the hacienda, both of the girls had pulled off their head sets
and were leaning against the back of their chairs.  Cindy felt the same
chill, her nipples making bumps in her "T" shirt right through her bra. 
Maria noticed how clammy her underarms felt.  Her "T" shirt seemed to cling
more to her breasts today.  They both knew what this meant.  They were
ready.  It was Wednesday.  Isabel would be out here tomorrow.  So would the
boys.  Cindy got up and walked toward the jeep.  Maria turned off the radio
and the radar set before following her.

   *****

   Isabel was in her office, going through a pile of paper work.  Her
computer beeped.  She pulled it toward her.  She typed in her password and
in just a second the jumble of letters, numbers and symbols turned into:
From: little widow
To: wicked widow

   Pack your bags, mama.  D-day is saturday.

   Isabel leaned against the back of her chair.  It was really going to
happen.  She was going to strike back at those who changed her life
forever. Never again will they just blindly rush in and kill somebody. 
They will always think of the day they were surprised by her air force ! 
She crossed herself and started typing.
From: wicked widow
To: felix

   It starts saturday.

   After sending the email she shut down her computer.  She put the phone
to her ear and called her banker.  They talked for three quarters of an
hour.  Her next call was to her lawyer.  They talked for an hour.  Her last
call was to Senora Picos.  They discussed their plans regarding "Air Shows,
Ltd."

   Every afternoon for the past seven days the A-1s had flown back to the
airport at Manaus and put on a small air show, doing aileron rolls and low
passes before pulling up and landing.  They were starting to draw a crowd
every evening.  Senora Picos already had the flyers printed announcing that
the airplanes were going on an air show tour before arriving back in Manaus
for a final air extravaganza in early August.

   Senora Morales directed Senora Picos to get the flyers out in the
Thursday afternoon paper.  Senora Picos knew that meant it was time for
"Air Shows, Ltd." to disappear.  When she got off the phone with Senora
Morales she called her son.

   "It's your mother."

   "I know, mother."

   "They leave Friday morning for good after a ten-thirty air show."
   "I know what to do, mother.  Sleep well.  Good night, mother."