Destination: Croatia

By Dan Goldstein

This is the sequel to Dan's first novel, 'Boston / Moscow Connection. It follows the exploits of newly married Viet Nam veteran pilots Ron Moscow and Tyrell Boston and their wives, Barbara and Duffy. Ron and Tye begin a business oriented life as the operators of both the Boston / Moscow Airfreight and the Wales Aircraft Refurbishing Companies. All goes well, at first. But, unusual circumstances and an old nemesis threaten their lives, their businesses and their families. Dan has taken his original story, 'Boston/Moscow Connection' full circle to its smashing conclusion.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dan Goldstein
• Release date: Dec 3, 2013
• ISBN: 9780988925335

Dan Goldstein

Dan Goldstein served in the United States Air Force during the Korean War as a Specialist in the Air Rescue Service and currently resides in Naples, Florida with his wife, Rochelle.In addition to writing numerous children’s stories, Dan has written six adventure novels, including; ‘Boston/Moscow Connection’ and its sequel, ‘Destination: Croatia’, which will soon be available in both ebook and printed editions.Follow Dan on Facebook and Twitter.

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FOREWORD

This novel is the sequel to ’ Boston / Moscow Connection’. If you haven’t read Boston / Moscow Connection, you may want to do so in order to learn what actions have brought us to this point in the story of Ron Moscow and Tyrell Boston.

Dan Goldstein

This book is a work of fiction, and is intended for the reader’s enjoyment only. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review.

PROLOGUE

Ron Moscow first crossed paths with Tyrell Boston in a Vietnamese jungle. Ron was a helicopter pilot in the USAF Air Rescue Service. During a rescue mission, he landed his helicopter about 50 yards from a downed C-47. Its pilot (Tyrell) was stranded when the Viet Cong mounted an attack on the downed plane. American forces at the scene were able to rescue three of the four man crew but, because of the heavy fire by the Viet Cong, couldn't get to the pilot. While he was giving first aid to the pilot, Ron was hit by enemy fire and lost consciousness. Fortunately both pilots were subsequently rescued and both were transported to the same hospital.

About six weeks later, Ron and Tyrell finally got to meet. Instead of a handshake, they shared bear hugs.

After that first meeting they visited each other daily and became good friends. As Ron and Tye recuperated, they learned that they had much in common, including the fact their last names were the same as a major city and that they both were from small towns in Massachusetts.

Ron and Tye quickly became the best of friends. Over the years they became more like brothers, doing for and looking out for each other without the slightest hesitation.

They partnered with each other in the formation and operation of Boston/Moscow Air Freight, flying electronics parts to Central and South America despite antagonizing tactics by the DEA. During one of their more 'interesting' trips, Ron and Tye met their future wives, Barbara and Duffy. While aiding Barbara they had the good fortune to meet George Wales and his matriarchal wife, Ruth. In yet another 'escapade', they worked closely with George Wales and his crew of Vietnam veterans. Through George, who is a multimillionaire owner of an aircraft refurbishing plant, Ron met and successfully challenged the President of the United States. Lastly, they helped an ailing Russian chemical engineer escape from a doomed life under the oppressive thumb of the Kremlin.

Now, our heroes have Boston/Moscow Air Freight transporting electronic parts and equipment to eastern Europe. At this point, Ron and Tye are successful businessmen operating a lucrative air transportation company. But, the question remains, how long will peace and prosperity reign in their lives?

CHAPTER ONE

Ron and Tye and their wives, Barbara and Duffy had spent the weekend at their in law's estate in Arlington, VA. The women decided to extend their stay for a week to enjoy a little vacation, while the boys made a delivery to Eastern Europe. Ron and Tye were sitting on the runway of George's aircraft refurbishing plant.

After flying their old C-47 for so many years, Ron Moscow felt good knowing that he had a decent plane to fly. He and his friend Tyrell Boston were the proud owners of a brand new Boeing 727, which Ron's father in law, George Wales, had customized for their cargo business between Boston, MA and Moscow, Russia. Ron and Tyrell had their new Boston / Moscow Air Freight logo painted brightly on the tail fin of the 727. Ron was even happier to have this plane because it was equipped with an automatic pilot.

Tye received clearance for take-off while Ron brought the idling engines to full power. After a smooth roll down the runway and a gentle liftoff, the plane cut its way into the clear blue sky. The sun was shining brightly and visibility was unlimited. An occasional puffy cloud drifted by the aircraft windows as the plane climbed toward its cruising altitude.

Tye punched in the coordinates for Dublin's Shannon Airport and they sat back sipping on their first coffees of the flight. Ron and Tye had taken off at seven A.M. Their cargo consisted of electronics equipment, which was bound for Russia.

They were 300 miles off the coast of Virginia when their radio brought them to attention. The Coast Guard's Atlantic Control Center, based on Governor's Island in New York harbor, was calling for all available help in locating a downed American Airways flight.

Ron had his headset on and listened as Tye, his partner, copilot, best friend and the only black man he would give his life for, responded to the call.

Ron loved Tye like a brother, not because he saved Ron's life in Viet Nam, but because Tye was a decent, honest and caring man. Since their meeting in Nam, Ron had learned that Tye was an only child who was raised by his poor, old grandmother. He never knew his father, who left his mother before he was born, and his mother abandoned him when he was just a toddler. He was extremely loyal and supportive of his Grandmother, who raised him, particularly his trying teenage years. She had taught him right from wrong, and had developed him into the person who had become Ron's trustworthy and loyal friend.

The Atlantic Control Center gave Tye another radio frequency and requested that he contact the Air Rescue Service. Tye dialed in the new frequency and announced his presence; Air Rescue this is Boston/Moscow Air Freight. We have a 727 cargo aircraft. Coast Guard switched us over to you. We seem to be over the area in question. What do you want us to do?

Boston/Moscow, this is 102nd Air Rescue. We have an aircraft down. A Boeing 727 with 149 passengers aboard, flight number 2128 from Bermuda to Boston. Are you familiar with search patterns?

Affirmative, Rescue, Tye replied.

Boston/Moscow, how much loiter time do you have available? Are you able to conduct a search pattern until our aircraft arrive?

Roger, Rescue, Tye replied. It will force us to divert from our flight plan, but we can circle for a while. How long will it be before your guys get here?

I estimate a rendezvous in about one hour, Air Rescue replied. Can you give us an hour?

Tye turned to Ron, who was nodding yes in answer to the question.

Roger, Rescue, we can search for at least an hour. We're now at twenty eight thousand. I'll call air traffic control and request permission to drop down to six thousand.

Boston/Moscow, better make that one thousand, otherwise you won't see a thing. We'll back up your request to drop down to one thousand. Make sure you keep us informed of your location and pattern, so we can grid you. An Air Rescue HC-130 helicopter will be in contact with you. Our guys will relieve you as soon as they reach your area. The HC-130 will be the on-scene Commander for this mission and will control all rescue assets. Paramedics will be aboard the HC-130. Now switch over to your HF. That's short wave if you've forgotten, the man said with a smile in his voice.

Do you have anything on board that you can drop to survivors if you locate the aircraft?

Roger, Rescue, Tye replied. We'll circle until we get clearance. But we have nothing on board that we can drop. I'm afraid all we can do is locate them, if we're lucky. We'll keep you informed of our location. We'll give you our coordinates as soon as we reach one thousand and begin our pattern....and roger, we remember what HF means, Tye said with a grin.

Turning to Tye, Ron said, If Traffic Control gives you any trouble, emphasize that these are civilian passengers and time in water is critical.

They're getting back to me now, Ron, Tye said. Roger Traffic Control, this is Boston/Moscow, I read you. Roger, we'll drop down to one thousand. Roger, Traffic Control. We appreciate that.

Okay, Ron, take her down, I'll work out the pattern and advise Air Rescue, once we've started our search."

Here we go, Pard, Ron said, as he put the aircraft into a steep, turning dive. "It seems that we never run out of excitement. I sure would like to find that plane, if it hasn't already sunk.

Ron kept their aircraft in a tight circle down to one thousand feet, where he leveled off. Knowing that the seas in this area of the North Atlantic could be quite rough, he immediately noticed that, short of a few rolling swells, it was fairly calm. Ron was thankful that it was a clear morning, with no significant winds to chop up the water. It wasn't as smooth as a pane of glass but smoother than he had ever seen it.

This will be our starting point, Tye said, giving Ron the coordinates and setting their course.

This is the wrong type of aircraft for search and rescue, especially with this load, Ron muttered.

There's nothing we can do about that, Tye replied. At least we're here. If I were down there, I wouldn't care what type of plane was looking for me.

Ron wanted to see something, to be the one that would spot the downed aircraft. But, he knew the odds were against them seeing anything in this vast ocean.

They were forty minutes into their search when Ron heard Tye shout, There's something down there! I see something, three o'clock low. Circle, circle.

Although he wasn't sure that Tye had spotted the plane, Ron banked the aircraft into a tight right turn. He knew that they were searching for a needle in a haystack, but he trusted Tye's instincts to the point that he didn't think to question the order. Even so, he thought it would be a miracle, if they found the downed aircraft this fast.

There it is! Tye shouted again. The tail section is up and I can see a couple of rafts.

Can you see any survivors? Ron asked, now believing.

There's all kinds of debris floating around, but I can't tell if they're bodies or what. Tye replied.

Get on the radio, Ron said. Tell Rescue what we've spotted, and where.

Ron banked their aircraft into another tight right turn and began circling to enable Tye to see better. Ron couldn't see much of what was below from his pilot's seat. Tye was giving Air Rescue a running picture of the disaster below them in the water. Ron's felt his heart fall into his stomach, when he heard Tye say that he couldn't see any signs of life. For a pilot, this was the worst thing he could have heard. He felt choked up and couldn't utter a word for a several minutes.

When he was able to speak, he said, Pardner, take over, I want to check the load.

For a moment Tye was puzzled. He knew the load was secure. Then, it became obvious that Ron didn't want Tye to see how the crash scene was emotionally affecting him.

Tye knew what was going on in Ron's head. Since Ron had married Barbara, he had become more conscious of the dangers that often surrounded them. The wreckage that Tye was looking at, down below in the water, could easily have been their aircraft. Thoughts of getting killed and losing Barbara were creeping into Ron's head, and Tye knew that was dangerous.

After a few minutes alone in the cargo bay, Ron cleared his mind and went back into the flight deck.

Tye looked at him sympathetically. Are you okay, Ron?

Yeah, I'm okay, Ron answered.

Do you want to take over? Tye asked.

Yeah, I'll take it. Things are happening to me, Tye, Ron replied, as he slid into his seat and buckled himself in.

I guess I'm becoming an old married man. I used to take chances without thinking too much about it, but now . . .

Tye interrupted; Don't let it get to you, partner. You're not alone. Since Duffy and I tied the knot, I've had the same feelings.

Really? You too?

Yeah. Marriage is a whole new thing. Maybe it doesn't happen to everybody. Maybe it only happens to people who are as crazy in love as we are. The thought of not being with Duffy right now is totally inconceivable.

I think when we get back from this trip, we should all sit down and talk about this, before we get ourselves into trouble and get hurt, Tye said, holding his hand up to stop their conversation. Somebody was calling them on the radio.

Roger, Air Rescue, I read you, Tye said. Ron heard him give rescue control the coordinates of the debris. He pulled the plane up fifteen hundred feet and continued circling, listening to the rescue crew. They watched as Air Rescue dropped life rafts, followed by the men who were parachuting into the water. Ron had seen these heroes at work in Viet Nam. Ron remembered how he had been in awe of how they always did their job in such a matter-of-fact way. Their actions reflected their training; efficient and without question. He remembered their motto: ‘We do these things that others may live'. He always liked the sound of that.

Rescue, this is Boston/Moscow Air Freight. We'll be leaving you now. Good luck guys. Tye said into his microphone.

Thanks, Boston/Moscow. We appreciate what you guys have done.

We're both ex-Air Force. There was nothing else we could have done, Tye answered.

God speed, Boston/Moscow.

Ron started a gradual climb back to twenty-eight thousand feet.

Check our fuel Tye. Do we have enough? Ron asked.

I think we should head towards Nova Scotia and put down at Halifax/Stanfield International Airport. We can top off the tanks and, then, head on to Shannon.

Good thinking, Pard, Ron replied.

After landing in Halifax, Ron and Tye switched seats while the plane was being refueled. Tye would take the first leg of the almost six hour trip to Ireland.

As soon as they were airborne, Ron said; Well, Tye, we start our journey all over again, on to Shannon and, then, Moscow.

It was a tiring flight to Ireland and Shannon Airport, where they refueled and took right off again.

Ron banked the plane into Tye's heading as the aircraft climbed back through the small puffy clouds and once again headed for Russia.

Ron wasn't looking forward to meeting with Moscow's Chief of Police again. Not after they smuggled the sick scientist and his wife out of Moscow, right under the chief's nose. At the time Ron and Tye realized that their smuggling mission could possibly cost them their lives. But there was no other way for the scientist to receive the treatments he needed for Leukemia, which resulted from an assignment to analyze and test radio active materials. The scientist reluctantly performed this hazardous task after his superiors had ordered him to do so.

Ron was sure the chief knew that they had done it, but the chief didn't know how. Although the chief's men had conducted a thorough search of the plane, they were unable to find the secret compartment.

George Wales, Ron's father-in-law, who is the multimillionaire owner of an aircraft refurbishing factory, had designed and built the secret room himself. Even when Ron knew that it was there, he couldn't find it until his father-in-law showed him the layout on paper.

Neither Ron nor Tye got to know the Police Chief very well during their previous two trips to Moscow. They discussed the possible scenarios that might occur when they met him. And, they were certain the chief would be waiting for them when they landed. Like everything else Ron did, he figured he would just play it by ear. Ron tapped Tye on the shoulder and asked him to get landing instructions for Moscow's Sheremetyevo airport.

CHAPTER TWO

When the aircraft touched down, Ron and Tye immediately noticed that Moscow's Sheremetyevo Airport bore no resemblance to either George's private air strip in Virginia or to Ireland's Shannon Airport. Both of these had been circled by trees and acres of bright green fields. In contrast, Sheremetyevo was drab in color and the surrounding land was devoid of foliage.

They taxied behind a customs vehicle to a hanger where they parked and waited on board for their inspectors. After signing all the necessary forms and signing off on their cargo, they exited the plane and walked down the steps into the arms of Moscow's Chief of Police.

Ron turned to Tye and said, Pardner, I expected this but I still can't believe it. Every time we leave an aircraft, we run into the cops.

Ron turned to the police chief and said, Good morning Chief. I suppose we didn't walk out of our plane the right way or we . . .

Don't be so defensive, the Chief cut in. I only want to speak to you.

Okay, let's talk Ron replied. Are you sure we didn't do something wrong? Ron asked.

That is what I want to talk to you about. Why don't we go into the terminal and be comfortable?

Is anybody ever comfortable sitting in a Russian terminal? Ron quipped.

They walked ahead of the chief into the terminal. Ron couldn't help but notice the worn rug, which covered the entire concourse. He also noticed the areas on the walls where pictures once hung. The entire terminal was dreary and drab. They sat with their backs against the wall of a small waiting area just left of the gate.

When they had settled in, Tye asked, What's on your mind chief?

As you probably remember, we were looking for the Popov's when you left here the last time. You do remember, yes?

Yes, I remember, Ron said, realizing that the chief must know for sure that he and Tye had smuggled the Popov's to America.

Well, Mr. Moscow, shortly after you left here, I was informed that the Popov's were in New York. It seems that they arrived there very quickly. About the same time as you arrived. A coincidence? I don't think so, gentlemen. I really disliked the thought that you two smuggled them out of Moscow. There was no other way they could have arrived in New York so swiftly. I am not accusing you two of doing anything illegal, Mr. Moscow. As far as I'm concerned, this matter has gone by. It doesn't make any difference now. I was admonished by my superiors, even though I did everything I could have done at the time to stop the Popov's from leaving. But, my interests now lie in a different area. Mr. Moscow, Mr. Boston, I want you to get me out of Russia the same way you did the Popov's.

Chief, Ron said smiling. If there was a way to get you out of Russia, I certainly don't know what it is.

Please, Mr. Moscow. May I call you Ron?

Certainly, Ron said with a smile. Are you my friend?

Of course I am your friend, the chief replied. If I were not your friend, I would have arrested you as you stepped off your plane. So, Ron. please don't talk to me as if I were stupid. The matter of the Popov's certainly is over. What we are discussing now is my future, maybe even my life.

The chief leaned forward as if to whisper something to them. Quietly he said, It was my job to keep the Popov's here and I did not do my job. My superiors do not accept excuses. My time in this job is now limited and as I said, maybe even my life.

Chief, may we call you by your first name, as your friends do? Ron asked, teasing the Chief with a smile.

The Chief sat back in his chair and laughed. Of course. Of course, my friend. My name is very typical of this country. It is Alexi Mesiatev. It would be a pleasure to have you two as my friends.

Well, , Ron said. Let's just say that we were able to do this for you. How do we know that you wouldn't turn around and arrest us? You could be setting a trap for us, to make yourself look good to your superiors. You are Russian, you know, Ron needled , with a slight smile.

Ron's needling of the chief seemed to go over the chief's head.

"It is going to be a matter of trust, Ron. I am a man of my word. It may be hard to prove that to you, especially with your distrust of all Russians. All I