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"Ready to go?" she asked.

"All set."

She added power and tracked straight down the centerline of the 11,500-foot runway. The aircraft rapidly accelerated, and Jackie made a smooth transition to flight at the calculated rotation speed.

With the landing gear retracted and the flaps raised, the tower handed Gulfstream 957GA off to departure control.

Scott changed frequencies and keyed the radio. "Uh, Dulles departure, Gulfstream Nine-Five-Seven Golf Alpha out of fifteen hundred feet climbing to five thousand."

"Gulfstream Nine-Five-Seven Golf Alpha, departure, radar contact, turn left, proceed direct Baltimore, climb and maintain one-one-thousand."

"Left, direct Baltimore, climb, maintain one-one-thousand, Fifty-Seven Golf Alpha."

After a short delay, Dulles departure switched the flight to Washington Center and Scott changed to the new frequency. He checked in, and the controller cleared them to climb and maintain 37,000 feet.

Climbing through 18,000 feet Scott and Jackie reset their altimeters to the standard setting of 29.92 inches of mercury. Passing 33,000 feet and cleared to climb to 41,000 feet, Scott climbed out of the cockpit and went into the cabin to turn on the Airshow direct-broadcast satellite television. He selected the Weather Channel and waited for an overall view of their route.

Keeping one eye on the screen, he handed Jackie a cup of coffee and a pastry. He munched on a Danish and watched the current weather patterns. Satisfied with the en-route update, he finished his coffee and returned to the cockpit. He strapped into the right seat as the Gulfstream leveled imperceptibly at 41,000 feet.

"The weather still looks fairly reasonable to Gander, but after that it may be a bit dicey. Showing thunderstorms with tops up around mid-forty range and growing."

Jackie's voice was emotionless. "We can climb above it."

"Not if they're up to fifty thousand feet," Scott said, knowing he was being tested. He casually rolled his eyes toward her. "The higher we climb the more dangerous the atmosphere. Not to mention that we d be close to our aerodynamic ceiling. Only a few knots of separation between an aerodynamic stall and Mach buffet.. possibly experiencing Mach tuck. The early jet pilots learned that lesson the hard way, losing a lot of good planes and good pilots."

"True," she said, without looking at him.

He glanced at the engine instruments. Tm staying at flight level four-one-oh until I'm comfortable with this machine."

"I've never seen you intimidated by an airplane."

He raised an eyebrow in good humor. "Whats that old saying about truly superior pilots?"

She laughed softly. "They use their superior judgment to avoid those situations where they might have to use their superior skills."

He turned to her and smiled. "And, I might add, the test pilots have already set the limits for this airplane. We don't need to experiment."

"No argument from me."

GANDER INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT, NEWFOUNDLAND

The flight from Dulles International was smooth and uneventful at FL410. Jackie made landfall over Burgeo, Newfoundland, on the final descent into Gander. As usual, she made the landing look effortless and then taxied to the Century Aviation facilities.

While Jackie closely observed the refueling, Scott again checked the weather and filed an instrument flight plan to Luton Airport, located thirty-five miles north of central London. They enjoyed a snack and a soft drink before investigating the duty-free shop.

"Time to move on," Scott said, as he reset his watch to local time. "This is the long leg."

They walked out of the FBO and headed toward their immaculate red-and-white Gulfstream 100.

Jackie studied the sky to the northeast. "You haven't said anything about the weather. What's London like?"

"London isn't a problem." He glanced at her and shrugged his shoulders. "There's a huge system, thunderstorms, from the southern tip of the Reykjanes Ridge to the Newfoundland Basin."

"That's all the way to the Azores," Jackie said with growing concern in her voice. "Maybe we should wait until morning."

He ignored the suggestion. "We can probably skirt around it to the north. Pilot reports from the low flyers indicate moderate to heavy rime ice from eight to fourteen thousand feet. The jet drivers are reporting the tops at forty-five and above."

"What about going south?" she asked.

"We don't have the fuel reserves if it drives us too far south, have to land at Lajes. I believe we can find a place to get through."

She raised an eyebrow. "Okay, but lets leave our options open, come back here if we have to."

"I agree. Well give it a try."

They climbed aboard and strapped in, and Scott started the engines. Jackie handled the checklists and radios while Scott gave a crew brief. They were soon airborne, climbing to FL410. They picked up moderate rime ice but rapidly climbed through the clag. Two hours into the flight, they could see dark clouds stretching from horizon to horizon. Flying away from the setting sun was rapidly enveloping the jet in total darkness.

"Want to go up to forty-five?" Jackie asked.

"Not yet," he mumbled. "Just not comfortable pushing it that high if we encounter severe turbulence."

"Coffin corner?"

He glanced at her. "Yeah, we dont need an upset in the middle of a thunderstorm, bad for the adrenal glands."

They could see dim lightning flashes in the distance. The radar was beginning to paint the enormous series of storms.

After another fifteen minutes of anxiety, she stared into the midnight-dark sky. "Were going to have to rely solely on the radar, can't see a damn thing outside."

He studied the radar screen for a few seconds. "It looks like a possibility, an opening at eleven o'clock… coming left ten degrees."

"What if it isn't?"

"Then it's going to be a bumpy ride."

The turbulence was intensifying by the minute and lightning was beginning to blind them. A few splattered raindrops announced the beginning of a wild ride. A sense of unease stole over Scott when a huge bolt of lightning flashed directly in front of the jet.

"Tighten your straps," he said evenly. "Continuous ignition."

Jackie engaged continuous ignition for the engines and rechecked the icing switches.

"Let's slow to maneuvering speed," she suggested, when they flew into heavy rain and menacing lightning.

"Okay, easing the power, lets go with all the lights," Scott said, in a calm voice. Maybe we should get out of here…

Jackie quickly responded. Their darkened cockpit was suddenly brightly illuminated to help stave off flash blindness.

"That's much better," he said, keeping his eyes on the flight instruments. "Almost like daylight in here."

An awkward silence filled the cockpit for the better part of a minute.

"This is not good," Jackie finally said. She watched the weather radar and suppressed a twinge of panic. The screen was one large blotch of solid red. "What about diverting to Iceland, to Reykjavik?"

Scott started to reply as the Gulfstream was swallowed by an extremely severe level-five thunderstorm. The fierce weather system was immense, creating storms of colossal proportions.

"Do you want the strobes off?" Jackie asked, in a tight voice.

"Sure, kill all the exterior lights."

The exterior lights reflecting off the clouds were distracting. The turbulence quickly became severe, forcing Scott to hand-fly the airplane. The lightning was the worst either had ever seen. It was almost continuous and blinding, forcing both pilots to squint.

Seconds later the heavy rainfall turned into pounding hail. The airplane was taking a beating and the engines were ingesting large amounts of ice. Scott was concerned about losing control of the jet and overstressing the wings or tail. A deafening thunderclap, accompanied by a crackling flash, shocked them. Jackie's windshield popped when hail cracked the lower right corner. That's enough — this windshield could go at arty second!