7 Wild East Read Free Page A

and bred,” Thomas replied proudly.
    Chuck had expected the lad to mention some backwoods berg. Instead
the kid was a bona fide city boy, born and bred. And proud of it to boot. Good
Lord, Chuck thought, they’re going to eat him alive in the Gulch. The Mountie
rummaged his scattered thoughts for some way to make the encounter easier for
the recruit but realized that getting through it on his own would probably be
the most important part of his training if he was serious about being assigned
to the outback. Meanwhile, the Wings had stopped working on the engine and was
clearing his throat loudly to remind Chuck that he had yet to be introduced.
    “Thomas Merryweather, I’d like you to meet Danny
Jones-McIntyre, more commonly referred to as the Wings.”
    “Hi, Tom,” the Wings said, extending a greasy hand.
    Chuck didn’t blame Thomas for looking doubtfully at the
Wings’ grease-streaked hand rather than soiling his manicured fingers by
shaking. He did think that the initial verbal exchange could have been handled
better though.
    “Please, call me Officer Merryweather,” Thomas corrected. “You
must be the pilot. I’d now like to check your pilot’s license, the latest
safety report for your craft, and your flight plan before we take off.”
    “Excuse me?” the Wings replied.
    “That won’t be required, Thomas,” Chuck intervened. “I
already took care of reviewing his papers while we were waiting.”
    “Are you suggesting I don’t know my job?” the Wings asked
indignantly, refusing to let the issue pass.
    The two men stood erect gritting their teeth and considering
one another. Rather than interfere, Chuck opted to stand back and see how the
kid handled himself in a tense situation. As it turned out, he didn’t handle
himself well.
    “I don’t know you, Mr. Wings. How could I possibly know
whether you know how to do your job or not?”
    “Maybe my twenty years spent flying this particular route
should have been considered first,” the Wings suggested.
    Another silence fell between them. Chuck took the
opportunity to address an important issue that needed to be resolved before
they climbed on the plane.
    “You know, Thomas, I’m certainly one to respect the uniform,
but in this case, full dress may be a little overwhelming for where we’re
going.”
    “You’re suggesting that I dress down for my first encounter
with the citizens of an outback town?”
    “He’s suggesting that you don’t look like a daft prick,” the
Wings corrected.
    Again there was silence and tension as the two men observed
each other.
    “I passed a restroom while I was walking through the
terminal. Perhaps I’ll go back and change,” Thomas suggested.
    “That would be best,” Chuck agreed.
    “Don’t rush back,” the Wings added.
    The recruit lowered the remainder of his bags to the tarmac.
He selected one duffel from the large pile, lifted it, and turned to return to
the terminal. Of course, he saluted Chuck and awaited a returning salute before
leaving.
    “What a jerk,” the Wings commented as Thomas walked away. “You
know, he’s going to get crucified when we get him to the Gulch.”
    “Yes, I’m fully aware of that and more shame to all of you,”
Chuck replied. “Let’s load his bags while we’re waiting.”
    “Is all his luggage going to fit?” the Wings replied,
mirroring Chuck’s own concerns on the subject. “I have supplies to fly in too.”
    The two men had the luggage packed by the time Thomas
returned. The recruit was wearing yet another pristine uniform, this one the
traditional green of the working Mountie. He returned with the duffel he’d
taken but also had a garment bag draped over a shoulder. The Wings snickered
when he saw Thomas coming.
    “One more thing, Wings,” Chuck interrupted. “I’d like this
to be a nice peaceful flight.”
    “What are you suggesting?” the Wings countered.
    “Let’s just say that I know what you’re thinking, but I’ll
remind you that I’ll