Arctic Fire (10 page)

By the time Cain had reached the
Clipper
,
silence, as well as a nice twenty-foot reporter-free buffer zone
surrounded the plane. Cain stood on the ground slightly in front of
the cockpit with Pike above him and to his left. Cain turned and
faced the crowd and raised his left hand pointing up to Pike.

“Ladies and Gentleman.” Cain spoke in his
polished corporate-pitch voice. “May I present to you, the Blast
from the Past, Mr. Gabriel Pike.”

Pike didn’t realize it at the time, though he
would be teased mercilessly for it later, saying he was posing, but
he was standing with one leg on the edge of the canopy with his
helmet tucked under his arm, wearing his flight suit and leather
jacket. It was the perfect publicity picture and just in time to
make the cover of every evening edition of every major newspaper in
the country.

Pike stood on his high perch and watched as Cain
worked the crowd. Slowly Cain moved away from the plane, drawing
the flock of reports, which followed him like a gaggle of baby
geese.

“Mr. Pike?”

Pike turned around and look down and saw the
pretty brunette was the one calling his name.

“Elisabeth Mallory, Mr. Cain’s Executive
Assistant. A pleasure to meet you.” She waited for him to climb
down then she extended her hand.

“Hi. Gabriel Pike. Nice to meet you.” He reached
out and shook her hand. He noticed that her grip was firm, yet not
overpowering or overcompensating. He liked that.

“If you’ll just follow me Mr. Pike, we’ll get
you out of this zoo.”

“Please.” He smiled and nodded, following her to
a white Escalade with dark tinted windows that appeared out of
nowhere.

Pike was a little surprised when she climbed
into the driver’s side door instead of the back. Seeming to read
his mind, she said, “I prefer driving myself,” as she put on her
seat belt. “Besides, I hate press conferences; they are a necessary
evil, but I still hate them. Some of the reporters are very good,
but a lot of them are just vultures circling and waiting to pounce
on their latest victims.”

“Mr. Cain doesn’t seem to mind.” Pike replied as
they drove past the crowd.

Mallory laughed. “Nigel loves it; he says he
doesn’t, but don’t let that fool you. He’s the ultimate lion
tamer.”

“Yeah, well thanks for saving me from the
lions.”

“I could tell you were a little out of your
element back there.”

“Just a little,” Pike laughed. “So I assume
we’ll be leaving for the iceberg right away then?”

Mallory pulled onto an access road that skirted
the airport and floored it.

“I can see why you like to drive.” Pike
said.

Mallory just smiled as they swerved around a
lumbering fuel truck. “No, Mr. Pike, we’ll be staying here in New
York for two days before we leave.”

“Gabe, please.”

“Beth.”

“Okay Beth, if you don’t mind my asking, a
little over seven hours ago I was in Las Vegas. If we’re not
leaving for two days, then why the rush to get me here?”

“Image is everything Mr. Pi… Gabe,” Mallory
corrected herself. “As you saw, Nigel knows how to work the press;
he knows how important they can be. This project is controversial
and the more positive press he can get out of it the more support
he can glean from Congress and other corporations.

“Your quick thinking in Nevada was the best
thing that could have happened to this project. Right now you’re
the fair-haired wonder boy and the public loves you and Nigel is
going to take full advantage of that. Like it or not Gabe, you’re a
star.”

Pike let out a sigh, still not comfortable being
the flavor of the month.

“Don’t worry Gabe,” Mallory smiled, “we’ll try
our best to keep the really hungry lions at bay. Oh, by the way, do
you have one of these?” She reached into a bag beside her seat and
pulled out a white scarf.

Pike got another pained look on his face as he
held it up. “You want me to wear this? Don’t you think this is a
bit much?”

Mallory smiled again. “Like I said, image is
everything. In today’s world the guys who fly the fighter jets are
pilots. You however are different. You fly a vintage jet fighter
and have been dubbed, ‘The Blast from the Past.’ The public likes
to romanticize things, so in their minds, you are not a pilot; you
are an aviator, and Nigel is going to use that. Today’s pilots are
all business that wears dull flight suits and bulky helmets with
dark visors that cover their faces. On the other hand, in the
public’s mind, the dashing aviator wears snappy leather jackets,
like the one you have on, and white scarves.

“People eat up nostalgia and that’s what Nigel
is going to do here. He’s marrying the simpler, easier times of the
past with the new technology of today to get the public to buy into
it. Whether this works or not, and it will, the public will demand
it, allowing Nigel to continue with his projects to help humanity.
You should be grateful; Nigel wanted you to wear a leather helmet
complete with goggles, but I talked him out of it.”

“Thank you!”

“Don’t mention it.” She reached into her laptop
case on the seat bag and pulled out a piece of paper. “Here’s your
itinerary for the day. We’ll meet up with Nigel in twenty minutes
or so and go from there.”

Pike took the piece of paper and gave it a quick
glance. “This is for the two days right?”

Mallory shook her head. “That’s just for today,
I have tomorrow’s schedule on my laptop.”

“But I don’t even see anytime here for lunch.
I’m starved.”

“Check under your seat.”

Pike gave her a funny look then reached under
his seat and pulled out a Styrofoam to-go box. He opened it to find
a Reuben sandwich. It was still fresh as evidenced by a cloud of
steam rolling out of the box. “It smells wonderful,” Pike said,
inhaling the steam.

“It’s from Wolf’s Delicatessen in
Manhattan.”

“No way.” Pike relied, sounding like a
schoolboy. “I’ve always wanted to go there.”

“There’s a cooler on the floor in the back with
a bottle of root beer or water, your choice.” Mallory replied,
enjoying Pike’s enthusiasm over a sandwich.

“But how did you….never mind.” He took a bite
and paused, it was the best Reuben he had ever had. “You didn’t
happen to…”

“Yes I did,” Mallory interrupted. “There’s a
container of potato salad along with a slice of cheese cake. I
gained three pounds just looking at it.” She kidded.

Pike’s smile grew bigger than the Brooklyn
Bridge. He savored several more bits then reluctantly stopped, used
the second of his three napkins to wipe off his hands then picked
up the itinerary. The joy of the moment began to fade as a scowl
formed on his face and hardened the closer he examined the
list.

“You’re kidding right? This is just for this
afternoon? You don’t even have time to think… What if I have to go
to the bathroom? I don’t see that scheduled here.” He said with
mild sarcasm.

“You’re a pilot, there’s a relief tube just to
your right.” Mallory looked at him and smirked. “Welcome to my
world.”

Chapter
Ten

After a day that Pike could only describe as a
blur, he was looking forward to getting some rest. As the limousine
coasted to a stop, he looked out and saw that they certainly
weren’t in front of a Motel 6. His first clue was the set of red
carpets cascading down from three sets of stairs that flowed out of
the front of the building, with the center set flanked by highly
polished gold railings. Four massive columns supported a regal
balcony and grand canopy that covered the hotel entrance. There
were five huge flagpoles jutted out from the balcony like bowsprits
from square-riggers of old.

The entrance was bathed in a soft glowing,
almost golden light. Nestled between the canopy and the balcony
were three stained glass panels, all glowing with the same soft
lights as the entrance. The center panel was embedded with a crest
that shows two large “Ps” back to back, symbolizing the regal
aurora of The Plaza Hotel.

Any other time he would have been excited to be
stopping at the famous Plaza. He would have loved to study the
architecture and discover its history, but not tonight. Exhausted,
he just sat there with his head leaning against the window, waiting
for Cain to get out so they could take him to his hotel. When the
doorman came and opened the door, it took him a moment to realize
that Cain was still in the car. He looked over to find Cain and
Mallory both looking at him and smiling.

“What?” Pike said, suddenly feeling
self-conscious.

“You’re here.” Cain said, pointing. “This is
your hotel.”

Pike felt his chin hit the carpeted floor of the
limousine. He expected Cain to be staying at the Plaza, not him.
Cain read the confusion on Pike’s face and continued.

“We can’t have the toast of the town staying in
just any hotel can we? America wants her latest hero to be well
taken care of.”

Pike frowned; he still wasn’t comfortable being
called a hero, but right now he would take it if it meant being
able to get some sleep. As he got out of the car, he bid Cain and
Mallory good night. He thought it odd the way they looked at him
grinning, but at this point he didn’t care. He was dead tired and
all he wanted to do was take a hot shower, get something to eat,
and then go bed.

He watched the limo pull away from the curb and
quickly disappear into traffic. He turned and walked up the center
steps toward the hotel entrance. He reached for the door, but the
doorman was quicker and had it open and waiting for him.

“Good evening Mr. Pike.” The doorman said,
tipping this hat.

“Good evening.” Pike replied, still a little
uneasy that everyone seemed to know who he was, though he was
beginning to get used to it by now.

He was getting his second wind now as the
excitement began to overwhelm his fatigue. Stepping into the lobby
he was transported back to the golden days of the 1920s and ’30s.
With its glistening bronze fixtures and brightly colored carpets,
Pike was in awe of the attention to detail which was magnificent
right down to the ornate elevator doors. He stood off to one side,
out of the flow of traffic and just soaked it all in. He smiled;
this sure beat the hotels that George sets him up in for business
trips.

He watched the ebb and flow of people as they
moved about the hotel. After a while, it was easy to tell who were
accustomed to the luxury, who expected it, who demanded it and who
appreciated it. He also enjoyed watching the reactions of the
employees when they thought no one was looking. He caught several
rolls of the eyes from the support staff trying to help a 20’s
something diva wannabe who thought she was all that and a bag of
chips. He also observed a self-important man with a cell phone
glued to his head that was getting upset because no one would help
him. Forget the fact that he never once pried the phone away from
his ear so he could tell anyone what he needed.

He watched the ever changing drama that was
being played out before him for a few more minutes then walked up
to the desk. “Hi, I’m Gabriel Pike. I’m…”

“Yes, good evening Mr. Pike, we’ve been
expecting you. Everything has been taken care of. Your room has
been prepared and your luggage has been brought from the airport.
If there is anything we can do to make your stay with us more
enjoyable, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

The desk manager was well dressed and in his
mid-forties. He had dark, neatly trimmed hair with just enough gray
in it to give him a distinguished look. He was everything Pike
expected from a high profile, five–star hotel manager, except for
his attitude. He wasn’t snobby or boorish and didn’t talk down to
him because he wasn’t rich or famous or because he really didn’t
belong there. He’d always heard about New Yorker’s attitudes and
was pleasantly surprised; but then he chuckled to himself, he
hadn’t ridden in a taxi yet either.

“James!” The manager called out, holding up the
room key. “Take Mr. Pike to his suite please.”

The bellhop he’d been watching earlier came over
and took the key. “Right away. If you will please follow me, Mr.
Pike?”

As soon as they entered the elevator, the
bellhop relaxed a bit.

“So, is this your first time in the Big Apple,
Mr. Pike?”

“Pike nodded his head. “Yes.”

“Staying long?”

“No, it’s what you call a whirlwind tour.”

“Cool.”

“What’s your name again?”

“Jimmy.”

Pike smiled, “You’re pretty good at this aren’t
you Jimmy?”

“Good at what sir?”

“Reading people.”

“Sir?” He replied, slight hesitation floating in
his voice.

“I watched you with that elderly couple earlier,
helping them out with their luggage, very polite, very
accommodating. I also saw you carrying the bags for that yuppie jet
setter. You were attentive but pretty laid back. I heard them call
you James, like the manager, and yet you introduced yourself to me
as Jimmy. You figure I’m just some ordinary guy here on business so
you give me the hometown boy act?”

Jimmy looked at Pike, sizing him up and deciding
how to answer. “You’re pretty observant sir. Are you a cop?”

Pike smiled. “No, I’m an engineer. The devil is
in the details as they say. If you miss something, you lose out on
a big tip; if I miss something, people could die.”

“I bet you’re a lot of fun at parties.”

Pike chuckled, “Yeah, I tend to get a little
over dramatic at times, but at least I don’t have a pocket
protector and wear my pants around my chest.”

“You’re okay Mr. Pike.” Jimmy smiled, “I’ve been
doing this for about three years now and it’s a pretty good gig.
I’ve discovered that if you give people what they expect, as you
have already guessed, I usually get a bigger tip. So with the rich
snobs I play the good little servant and with regular people like
you, I’m just the hometown boy struggling to make it in the big
city.”