CHARIOTS OF THE CLOUDS For as long as she could remember, Colley Morgan wanted to be a pilot. Determined to achieve her childhood dream, she accepts a position flying for Aero Pacific Aviation in Southern California owned by Geoff Fillmore. Their first encounter draws them together yet at the same time sets a quirky pace for their relationship. While flying a charter flight to Baja California, Colley finds herself in jeopardy when her plane is forced down in an isolated area and then stolen. Alone in a strange country, Colley turns to the only person she can reach, Geoff. Colley and Geoff put their personal differences aside to pursue recovering "their" airplane. As the mystery of the stolen plane unfolds, their decision leads them into the treacherous world of smugglers. Chariots of the Clouds is the second book in the Morgan Family Genealogy Series.
Chariots of the Clouds
By Carole BaileyAuthorHouse
Copyright © 2009 Carole Bailey
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4389-7679-2Chapter One
JUNE 1981 SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA
"Instrument flying, Babes, is ninety-nine percent boredom and one percent sheer terror." Colleen Morgan could hear the voice of her father stretching across her memory, instructing her in his wisdom of instrument flying. Well, Dad, she thought, I could handle some of that ninety-nine percent boredom right now.
Wind pelted rain against the windows and pitched the airplane like a toy ship at sea. Fluffy grey-white clouds enclosed the airplane, making it impossible to see the wing tips or the nose of the airplane. The red glow of the cockpit light made Colley secure as she scanned the plane's instruments. She knew from experience to trust what she saw on the instruments and not give in to any conflicting physical sensations of what was up and what was down.
The yellow on her radar scope told Colley they were far from the center of the storm but it would be hard to convince the passengers bouncing around in their seats. She knew bad weather always made the passengers a little nervous so anytime she received a weather briefing that included anything that might make the flight less than smooth and clear she always explained to them what they could expect. By speaking in an assured, upbeat tone her calmness usually became contagious. With the exception of one man, Henry Collins, the four passengers coming back from Las Vegas had tolerated the bumpy trip very well. She first noticed Henry leaning against a wall at the terminal before she knew he was one of her passengers. His lanky six-foot-two body, freckled face and sandy blond hair made him conspicuous in a crowd. When he boarded the plane his eyes darted around as if looking for the nearest exit.
A few moments after lift-off they entered clouds. From his seat behind her Henry began mumbling what she believed were questions. Not being able to make out what he was asking, she handed him an extra headset and invited him to sit in the right seat next to her after they leveled off enroute. A few minutes later he joined her in the cockpit. She explained what the controllers said and the plane's noises, and let him ask questions. He seemed to put logical reasoning to everything the plane was doing and commented, "That makes sense."
Detecting concern in his voice, she reassured him the trip was going fine but flying seemed to be his natural enemy. Finally, he relaxed a little and his grip on the armrest no longer seemed to cut off circulation to his hands.
Nearing the end of their trip, Colley turned on the intercom, and said informally, "Good afternoon gentlemen." With a little more authority in her voice she continued, "In a few minutes we are going to start our descent. You might notice a few more bumps. We will be arriving at the airport in about twenty minutes. Make sure your seatbelts are on and secured. Please put up any trays and tighten down anything loose." Thinking where they had just come from she added, "Like all the money you won in Las Vegas." She glanced over and noticed a small smile on Henry's taut face.
Rain drummed like an intense percussion player on the metal airplane as they came down through the clouds. Colley used a methodical scan on her instruments to make sure the plane was following her commands.
"Cessna six-zero Mike," began the instructions from the controller over Colley's headset. "Six miles from the outer marker. Turn right heading two-five-zero. Maintain four thousand until established on the localizer. Cleared for ILS runway two-eight approach."
"Cessna six-zero Mike. Heading two-five-zero. Maintaining four thousand. Cleared for ILS runway two-eight approach," Colley read back to the controller. Slender fingers of her left hand wrapped securely around the plan's control wheel. With her right hand she reached for the engine and propeller controls.
Flying was like nothing else in the world for Colley. It gave her a sense of freedom, like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon into a gentle afternoon breeze. Once her wings unfolded in the wind and let her fly, she felt free. And flying by instruments heightened that feeling because of the need for precision in the unknown. Each time Colley flew an instrument approach into an airport she got an intense feeling of euphoria as she sensed God's hand slip over her hand and guide her toward touchdown.
A silent smile broke across her radiant Irish face when the plane broke out of the clouds at 500 feet above the ground and the center white stripe of runway 28 was directly in front of her. "Amen," she whispered. "Amen."
The rain stopped by the time Colley taxied to the hangar. Stepping out of the airplane she stretched her long, athletic legs. Unconsciously she tucked her light blue shirt, with the three silver-stripped epaulets on the shoulder, deeper into her dark blue pants of the Aero Pacific Aviation uniform. The glances she drew when she got out of one of the larger airplanes wearing the pilot's uniform she knew were because she was a woman. Women pilots were making strides of acceptance, but still a lot of ground needed to be gained.
The second glances went to Colley, the woman; slender, ocean-blue eyes, dark hair that cascaded over her shoulders, and a complexion the color of golden honey. Her look caused men to walk into doors while at the same time women turned to admire her wholesome radiance.
Darting around the rain puddles, she stepped quickly to help the passengers unload. Before she reached the passengers a hand grabbed her arm, spinning her around.
"Seora Colley Morgan," a voice grumbled.
Colley was face to face with a swarthy man with black eyes that cast suspicious shadows from them. An icy chill traveled the length of her body. To shake her disquieting feeling, she stepped back away from him and took a deep breath.
"Yes, I'm Colley Morgan. What can I do for you?" Her voice was pleasant but cautious.
"I have come about your husband." His mouth twitched nervously and he stepped closer to her.
"I don't have a husband." Her voice stiffened.
"Seor Glen Grover, he is your husband?"
"No." A dry smile crossed her face. Ex, she thought. Ex husband. Whoever this man was she did not owe him any explanations. A sudden flash of Glen crossed her mind.
Colley had met Glen Grover her last semester in college during a time when she had wandered from her relationship with God. She reached for something, someone to bring her comfort. Glen, a handsome young naval officer at flight school, was there to sway and seduce her into a life opposed to everything she had been brought up to believe. His dark hair and piercing steel grey eyes mesmerized her and his uniform dazzled her. Following a one-month whirlwind courtship, they eloped. She graduated but gave up pursuing a career in aviation, yielding to Glen's demands. A short time after they married Glen washed out of flight school for a reason Colley never understood
It became apparent to Colley that Glen wasn't going to take on any responsibilities. He always had some deal just around the corner, a way to make a quick buck. The good times of the short courtship disappeared as he became more possessed with control and manipulative games. Their marriage fell into an inescapable smoldering pit, fueled by Glen's frequent mood swings, mysterious trips, and dark attitude toward life and people. Colley again felt lost but this time she turned back to God. Within two months of their...
