Twelve hours later, Turner and Frank were sitting in the seats of the Cessna jet facing each other. The jet was slowly turning onto the edge of the long runway, preparing to take off. Both men sat in silence as the jet revved up its twin engines and released the brakes. In moments they were airborne, with the plane banking steeply to take them West and to home.
After the plane straightened up into a gentle climb, Frank threw off his safety belt, stood up and walked to the back of the plane. Bending down, he opened a small built-in refrigerator and grabbed two cans of beer. Walking back to his seat, he handed a beer to Turner and sat down.
“How did our tail slip away?”
“Don’t know,” Turner replied, opening his beer, and lifting the can to his lips for a quick sip before lowering it. “May
