Tom Clancy FanFiction Pilot

Tittle in Working

Daniel Herbane sat in the Pilots lounge of Auckland International Airport at a coffee table, sipping some coffee and talking to his co-pilot. They where going over the final plans for the last leg of the 747 – 400s journey. # hours earlier the 747 left Los Angles International bound for Auckland and now in two hours it was about to complete it's journey to Kingsford-Smith International.

"There should be good weather all the way to Sydney," Daniel commented looking the weather charts, his junior just grunted. Captain Daniel Herbane had so many flying hours under his belt he had lost count. He had completed his Bachelor of Aviation (Flying Stream) at the University of New South Wales where he received his CPL, IFR, Twin Command and Instruction Ratings. He then for three years worked for a training and charter firmed based out of the smaller Bankstown Airport in Sydney, getting restless he started to send applications to the major airlines in Australia and finally getting called for an interview with Virgin Blue. They where looking for a 737 pilot. Daniel got accepted and worked for Virgin for five years before his dream came true. He had been trying for the previous two years to join Qantas but, with thousands of other hopeful pilots, on his third attempt ('Third time lucky' he said at the time) Qantas accepted his application as a 767 pilot and he quickly became a captain flying the domestic routes and occasionally got to fly to the major New Zealand airports, about ten years ago he applied to the 747 training course where he learnt the ropes of flying the huge, graceful beasts. He had been flying the B744s ever since. Being a captain of such a huge powerful beast was something Daniel couldn't ever replace.

Daniel looked up to see his co-pilot, a young First Officer, was standing over him,

"Ready to go sir, I have already checked the current METAR reports and they are all clear to Sydney."

"Great stuff, let's go then shall we?"

They walked down the terminal past the gate, showing their security passes and having them rigorously checked (one of the many disadvantages of September 11th), then they walked down the Aerobridge, to the disgust of the First Class passengers whose boarding had to be delayed for something as trivial as a pilot. Daniel looked at the Flight Attendant at the door and smiled at the familiar face.

"G'day Kathy!"

"Daniel! I haven't seen in you so long! Well I'll come and have a chat once we reach cruise."

"It's a date," he said coolly as he brushed past the other flight attendants waiting to great the arriving PAX, giving the woman approving nods. The opened the cockpit door which on a B744 was remarkably roomy. They immediately set up there charts in order of use and went over a quick check, out of habit more than procedure, to see if anything was amiss. Taking his seat Daniel snapped on his headset and positioned his microphone, on his right his co-pilot was doing the same. Over the intercom he said to the co-pilot, "Radio check mate, how am I holding up down your end?"

The young mans voice came over the headset crisp and alert, "Loud and clear"

"Same for you." Daniel finished. Minutes later the same process was done over the radio which was at the moment tuned to the Qantas Company Frequency.

"Magpie 21 cleared in hot"

"Roger fighter control 21's, cleared in hot."

Flight Lieutenant James Crimmer flicked off the safety in his F/A-18 Multi-Role fighter of the Australian Air force's 77sqn.He was doing a practise bombing run on one of the many targets in the Northern Territory. He slowed the throttle pushed a button that dropped a bomb then pushed the throttled to full again and climbed out.

"Magpie 21 on egress to Angels 01, weapons cold, heading back home."

"Roger Magpie 21, Expect ILS approach at Tindal."

Harry Scott sat in a Austrian coffee shop. He flicked a page of his book. He looked like he was reading and he was, to an extent, but at the same time he was scanning the three hundred year old market for his target. She was staying in one of the many hotels that had sprung up after World War II. He sipped his coffee it was grainy almost like the Turkish coffee he had drank a week before. Finally a young attractive woman wearing a revealing trouser suit stepped out of the hotel. She looked around then went left towards the train station just as Harry knew she would. He followed her slowly getting closure but making sure she wouldn't suspect him. About two hundred metres from the station he put his dead down and walked passed her just like any other business men on his way to catch the train to secure a business deal. He walked to a street lamp in front of the train station and lit a cigarette further down the road a delivery van moved up the street. The woman came towards him he walked deliberately forward to her and asked for directions to the bank. He spoke in German with a strong Middle Eastern accent that was the only thing that revealed his homeland. She turned to point down the road just in time to see three men come up and grab her they tossed her into the van and drove off. Henry smiled, job well done, he returned to the hotel for a flight back to Syria.