In a pigs eye, said OHara. Theyll use you in an emergency but theyll never put you on their timetables. All youll get are thanks.
Its worth trying, insisted Filson. So get the hell down here.
OHara debated whether to inform Filson that he had already exceeded his months flying hours and that it was only two-thirds through the month. He sighed, and said, All right, Im coming. It would cut no ice with Filson to plead regulations; as far as that hard-hearted character was concerned, the I.A.T.A. regulations were meant to be bent, if not broken. If he conformed to every international regulation, his two-cent firm would be permanently in the red.
Besides, OHara thought, this was the end of the line for him. If he lost this job survival would be difficult. There were too many broken-down pilots in South America hunting too few jobs and Filsons string-and-sealing-wax outfit was about as low as you could get. Hell, he thought disgustedly, Im on a bloody escalator going the wrong way it takes all the running I can do to stay in the same place.
He put down the hand-set abruptly and looked again into the night, scanning the sky. It looked all right here, but what about the mountains? Always he thought about the mountains, those cruel mountains with their jagged white swords stretched skywards to impale him. Filson had better have a good met. report.
He walked to the door and stepped into the corridor, unlit as usual. They turned off all lights in the public rooms at eleven p.m. it was that kind of hotel. For the millionth time he wondered what he was doing in this godforsaken country, in this tired town, in this sleazy hotel. Unconcernedly naked, he walked down towards the bathroom. In his philosophy if a woman had seen a naked man before then it didnt matter if she hadnt, it was time she did. Anyway, it was dark.
He showered quickly, washing away the night sweat, and returned to his room and switched on the bedside lamp wondering if it would work. It was always a fifty per cent chance that it wouldnt the towns electricity supply was very erratic. The filament glowed faintly and in the dim light he dressed long woollen underwear, jeans, a thick shirt and a leather jacket. By the time he had finished he was sweating again in the warm tropical night. But it would be cold over the mountains.
From the dressing-table he took a metal flask and shook it tentatively. It was only half full and he frowned. He could wake Ramón and get a refill but that was not politic; for one thing Ramón did not like being wakened at night, and for another he would ask cutting questions about when his bill was going to be paid. Perhaps he could get something at the airport.
OHara was just leaving when he paused at the door and turned back to look at the sprawling figure in the bed. The sheet had slipped revealing dark breasts tipped a darker colour. He looked at her critically. Her olive skin had an underlying coppery sheen and he thought there was a sizeable admixture of Indian in this one. With a rueful grimace he took a thin wallet from the inside pocket of his leather jacket, extracted two notes and tossed them on the bedside table. Then he went out, closing the door quietly behind him.
II
When he pulled his battered car into the parking bay he looked with interest at the unaccustomed bright lights of the airport. The field was low-grade, classed as an emergency strip by the big operators, although to Filson it was a main base. A Samair Boeing 727 lay sleekly in front of the control tower and OHara looked at it enviously for a while, then switched his attention to the hangar beyond.
A Dakota was being loaded and, even at that distance, the lights were bright enough for OHara to see the emblem on the tail two intertwined As, painted artistically to look like mountain peaks. He smiled gently to himself. It was appropriate that he should fly a plane decorated with the Double-A; alcoholics of the world unite it was a pity Filson didnt see the joke. But Filson was very proud of his Andes Airlift and never joked about it. A humourless man, altogether.
He got out of the car and walked around to the main building to find it was full of people, tired people rudely awakened and set down in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night. He pushed his way through the crowd towards Filsons office. An American voice with a Western twang complained loudly and bitterly, This is a damned disgrace Im going to speak to Mr Coulson about it when I get back to Rio.
OHara grinned as he pushed open the door of the office. Filson was sitting at his desk in his shirt-sleeves, his face shiny with sweat. He always sweated, particularly in an emergency and since his life was in a continual state of crisis it was a wonder he didnt melt away altogether. He looked up.
So you got here at last.
Im always pleased at the welcome I get, observed OHara.
Filson ignored that. All right; this is the dope, he said. Ive contracted with Samair to take ten of their passengers to Santillana theyre the ones who have to make connections with a ship. Youll take number one shes being serviced now. His voice was briskly businesslike and OHara could tell by the way he sonorously rolled out the words contracted with Samair that he saw himself as a big-time air operator doing business with his peers instead of what he really was an ageing ex-pilot making a precarious living off two twenty-five-year-old rattling ex-army surplus planes.
OHara merely said, Whos coming with me?
Grivas.
That cocky little bastard.
He volunteered which is more than you did, snapped Filson.
Oh?
He was here when the 727 touched down, said Filson. He smiled thinly at OHara. It was his idea to put it to Samair that we take some of their more urgent passengers, so he phoned me right away. Thats the kind of quick thinking we need in this organization.
I dont like him in a plane, said OHara.
So youre a better pilot, said Filson reluctantly. Thats why youre skipper and hes going as co-pilot. He looked at the ceiling reflectively. When this deal with Samair comes off maybe Ill promote Grivas to the office. Hes too good to be a pilot.
Filson had delusions of grandeur. OHara said deliberately, If you think that South American Air is going to give you a feeder contract, youre crazy. Youll get paid for taking their passengers and youll get their thanks for what theyre worth and theyll kiss you off fast.
Filson pointed a pen at OHara. Youre paid to jockey a plane leave the heavy thinking to me.
OHara gave up. What happened to the 727?
Something wrong with the fuel feed theyre looking at it now. Filson picked up a sheaf of papers. Theres a crate of machinery to go for servicing. Heres the manifest.
Christ! said OHara. This is an unscheduled flight. Do you have to do this?
Unscheduled or not, youre going with a full load. Damned if I send a half empty plane when I can send a full one.
OHara was mournful. Its just that I thought Id have an easy trip for a change. You know you always overload and its a hell of a job going through the passes. The old bitch wallows like a hippo.
Youre going at the best time, said Filson. Itll be worse later in the day when the sun has warmed things up. Now get the hell out of here and stop bothering me.