“Good man,” Eggers said. “Do you want to attend the patents meeting?”
“Not unless I need a good nap,” Stone said. “Bye-bye, Bill.”
28
When Stone got home from lunch, Joan caught him as he came through the door. “Felicity called, said she won’t be home tonight; something’s come up.”
“I’ll call her on her cell,” Stone said.
“She said you won’t be able to reach her.”
“Okay,” Stone replied. He got some work done that afternoon, and by the following morning he still had not heard from Felicity, so he called her cell. For his trouble, he got a loud squawk and a recorded message saying the number was not in use.
AT ONE O’CLOCK Stone was standing out on his front stoop when a large, black SUV pulled up in front, and a rear window slid down. Jim Hackett waved him into the car.
“Is this one of your armored specials?” Stone asked.
“Top of the line,” Hackett replied. “It will repel the hottest fire, even a roadside bomb.”
“I hope you don’t run into a lot of those,” Stone said. “Where are we going?”
“To see Stanley Whitestone,” Hackett replied. Then his cell phone rang and he talked for the next half-hour, while the car rolled through the Lincoln Tunnel and all the way to Teterboro Airport, where Stone kept his airplane.
They stopped at a gate, Hackett spoke some words into an intercom, the gate slid open and they drove through.
“They won’t let me drive onto the ramp,” Stone said.
“They would if you worked for me,” Hackett replied. The car stopped at a Cessna Citation Mustang, which was painted in a red, white and blue livery, with stars and stripes on the tail.
A man in coveralls stood by the door of the airplane. “Your preflight inspection is all done, Mr. Hackett,” the man said. “The ground power unit is connected, and the air-conditioning is on.” He opened the door and let down a set of steps. “I’ve entered your clearance into the onboard flight plan.”
“Hop in,” Hackett said to Stone. “Take the left seat.”
“I’ve never flown a jet,” Stone protested.
“Then it’s about time you did,” Hackett said, pushing him aboard.
Stone got into the left seat and found three large glass displays lit up.
“I’ll do the radios and the avionics,” Hackett said, putting on a headset and indicating that Stone should do likewise. “You just fly the airplane.”
Stone picked up the light headset hanging on the yoke before him and put it on.
Hackett was already on the radio, requesting permission to taxi. “Okay,” he said to Stone, “release the parking brake there, do a one-eighty turn and follow the taxi line around to the left.”
Stone adjusted his seat and then did as instructed. They stopped at the threshold for runway 1 and were told to wait for final clearance.
“Watch,” Hackett said. He pressed a button on one of the throttles, and a set of command bars popped up. He flipped up a switch on the panel. “Pitot heat on,” he said. “Now on clearance, taxi onto the runway and stop. Press the heading button and the switch above it, there.” He pointed. “We’ve been given the Teterboro Five departure. That means we fly heading 040 after takeoff and at fifteen hundred feet turn left toward Patterson VOR and climb to two thousand feet.” He turned a knob on the autopilot, and “2,000 feet” appeared in a little window on the primary flight display. They were cleared for takeoff, and Stone taxied onto the runway and stopped.
“Hold the brakes and push the throttles all the way forward,” Hackett said.
Stone did so, and the engines came to a roar.
“Release the brakes, and I’ll call the speeds for you,” Hackett said.
Stone released the brakes, and the airplane leapt down the runway.
“Airspeed’s alive,” Hackett said. “Seventy knots, V1. Put both hands on the yoke and… rotate. Keep the flight director at the command bars.”