“How is the weather in Chicago?” asked Little Stevie. They would be flying there tomorrow to do three shows over four nights.
“More of the same for tomorrow,” Suzie told them. “It is, after all, on the same lake and is being hit with the same storm system. But the forecast says that Thursday and Friday it will clear up and return to more seasonable conditions.”
“Which means wind off the lake in Chicago,” said Celia.
“Most likely,” agreed Suzie with a shrug. “But at least we won’t have to fly above the clouds to see the sun.”
“At least there’s that,” she said. “Good landing, by the way. I was starting to get a little nervous when I couldn’t see the ground yet after the gear went down.”
“That’s why they make ILS systems,” Suzie said with a smile. “It was nothing. Routine.”
“Yeah,” Njord said bitterly. “It was so routine she took the leg from me.”
Suzie cast an irritated look at her copilot. He had a habit of blurting out crap like that—disagreements between the two of them, his thoughts on Suzie’s abilities as a team leader, the fact that she would not give him any supervised PIC time to help build up his hours for his logbook—and it needed to stop. It undermined the confidence her passengers were supposed to have in their flight crew and it undermined morale.
“Anyway,” she said, “I saw when we parked that your limo is here. You are free to deplane and if we don’t see you at the hotel, we’ll see you here tomorrow for the Chicago flight.”
Everyone began to filter out the door and down the steps to the tarmac before making the rush through the rain to the waiting limo. Celia was the last to go. Before she stepped out, she turned to Suzie.
“Think you can scrounge us up a few cigars for tonight?” she asked.
This question served to alleviate a little bit of Suzie’s irritation with Njord. She was definitely up for a little balcony therapy in Celia’s room tonight, even if it was raining and windy. It had been more than a week since they had last done this. “I think I can probably come up with something,” she said.
Celia smiled. “I’ll be looking forward to it,” she said.
With that, she walked down the steps and out into the rain. She did not say anything to Njord or even look at him. He said nothing to her (though he did take a good long look at her ass as she walked away). This was pretty much the status quo between Njord and all of the female passengers and most of the male ones. They disliked the man and spoke to him as little as possible. The only one who seemed to enjoy his company in any way was Coop. The two of them liked to go to the hotel bars together and tell pussy stories to each other while trying to pick up women. The difference was that most of Coop’s pussy stories were true and most of Njord’s were embellishments at the least, out and out fabrications at worst.
“All right,” Njord said as soon as Celia’s derriere disappeared from his view. “How about we fuel this thing now, so we don’t have to worry about it tomorrow?”
Suzie thought this over for perhaps two seconds and then shook her head. “No,” she said. “Let’s just get it secured for now and we’ll fuel in the morning. The weather might be better then.”
“Or it might be worse,” Njord said.
Suzie shook her head again. “If it’s much worse than this, we won’t be flying. We’ll do it tomorrow.”
He rolled his eyes. “You’re the boss,” he said, though with far from the amount of respect such a statement should contain.
She looked at him pointedly. “Yes,” she said. “I am the boss. And that means you support my decisions, whether you agree with them or not. And it also means that you do not make snide little comments about my decisions, or about your personal opinions on my leadership skills, in front of the passengers.”
“I was just joking,” he said defensively.
“You were not just joking,” she said sternly. “You were undermining my authority and making the passengers aware that there is strife and disagreement between us. That erodes their faith in us. It makes them nervous about stepping onto the aircraft with us.”
This did not impress Njord. “So?” he asked. “It’s not like they have anyone else to fly them around to their little music shows.”
“At this moment in time, no they don’t. But what about for the next tour? What about when Jake Kingsley or Brainwash needs someone to fly them around for their shows? Those acts are also on the KVA label and KVA Records is an extremely valuable contract for our employers, Njord. Do you really think the big bosses would be happy if KVA decided to contract with another carrier for their future needs because you are making an ass out of yourself and making their musicians uncomfortable?”
“I think you’re reading too much into all this,” he said. “Is it that time of the month or something?”
She started to see red. Her fists clenched. She really wanted to strike the asshole with them, was pretty sure she could take him in a fair fight, but, only by invoking the years of training and discipline that her profession demanded, she held back—at least from using her fists. She stepped forward toward him and glared directly into his eyes.
“Listen to me, you fuckin’ weasel,” she told him, “if you ever say anything like that to me again, I go official and start filing reports with HR.”
“You’ve already done that,” he said, unimpressed. “Didn’t think I knew about your requests to have me reassigned to another aircraft? You’ve put in three of them since we started flying together.”
“Those were requests,” Suzie said. “Not official complaints. I called the bosses up and said that you and I have a personality conflict—which we do. I gave no details about the issue, just asked that you be sent somewhere else away from me. They turned down those requests because I would not answer their questions about my issues with you. You see, I’m not a narc. I would not report you to HR lightly. I have put up with a lot of shit from you in the name of the code we follow that what happens on the mission stays on the mission, but that shit ends today. If you ever utter a discouraging word about me in front of the passengers again, if you ever make a snide comment about my leadership abilities, and if you ever make some misogynistic fucking remark like you just made again, it is fucking on. Do you understand me? I go to HR and tell everything, and you’ll be lucky to get a job de-icing wings on DC-fucking-9s flying out of Asshole Fissure, North Dakota. You get what I’m saying, Njord?”
Njord, suddenly looking nervous, held up his hands in appeasement. “Whoa, whoa, hold up a second here,” he said. “I think that maybe you’re misunderstanding things a little.”
“No, I’m not,” she said. “You’re a male chauvinist piece of shit who doesn’t like working with a female PIC and thinks you’re better than me even though I have ten times the flight hours you do. Even though I used to fly C5s all around the world, but this King Air is the biggest thing you’ve ever sat in the copilot’s seat for. You want to believe that you’re a better pilot than me just because you’re a man, fine. I don’t give a shit. But you will obey my fucking commands, you will do what I say, when I say it, and you will do it with a smile, especially in front of the passengers. One more fucking remark, Njord, just one more, no matter how slight, and it is on. HR gets involved and I go for your fucking throat. Do I make myself clear?”
His face was red and his fists were now clenched, but he nodded. “Yes, Ma’am,” he said stiffly. “You make yourself clear.”
“Good,” she said lightly. “I’m glad we were able to clear that up. Now then, let’s get this aircraft secured so we can get to the hotel and check in.”
They got the aircraft secured. They then went to the hotel and got checked in. They did this with no unnecessary conversation.