Toboggan: Jim Scott Books, #4

By Mike Jackson

Toboggan, is the fourth book in the "Janitors Series," following Baghdad Butcher, Back To Iraq, and Dog Pound.  Once again, Jim Scott and the Janitors are on vacation, except for another cameo appearance, which is a continuation of their mission in Dog Pound.  In this book, we have a return of Dan and Janet Orf, as well as their friend Mark Yomo.  Dan and Janet investigate a plane crash in the Rocky Mountains, while Mark attempts to track down two criminals in the area of the crash.  

In this book, a number of the new characters introduced play roles in later books of the series…with two becoming Janitors for one mission in the eighth book, Devil's Brew.  Also, during the Janitor's appearance, the C-130 plane crew from Back To Iraq is fleshed out, and most of them stay with the team from the sixth book, Saltwater Connection, thru the ninth and final book of the series, Sedona Chip.

 

This book is part survival story, part investigation, and with a bit of the Janitors.  The Orfs investigate on two fronts, while a young, newly formed, couple fight the extremes of a late spring blizzard in the Rockies.  While that couple heads down the mountain, they find themselves on a collision course with a pair of escaped criminals headed up the same mountain in an effort to avoid re-capture by the authorities.

While all this is going on, the idiot author had to stop typing on several occasions because laughter made it impossible to go on without a break.  While not a comedy, I hope the readers find those sections as funny as I did…though I'm sure the higher muckety-mucks in Iran and the leadership of al-Qaida will find it less funny.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mike Jackson
• Release date: Oct 13, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215824801

Mike Jackson

After serving in the Navy, Mike Jackson went into construction for a couple of years, then into banking for a few more. His next endeavor was in sales, where he spent most of the remainder of his life…until he started writing. On finding out that the most enjoyable thing of his life was writing, he's kept at it for several years and is still plodding along. Mike is married with two adult children and two grandkids. Mike and his wife have one dog at the present time, but he is a pip…and runs the house.

Book preview

Toboggan

A Novel by

Mike Jackson

1.

The left engine suddenly flamed out.  The plane’s Captain, David Copeland, and his co-pilot, Edward Patton, got ready to go through the re-start procedure when the right engine quit as well.  In the eerie silence that followed, David said, Ed, let’s try to re-start one.

They proceeded to go through the re-start procedure on the left engine, without success.  Then they tried the right engine, with the same result.  David asked, Any suggestions?

None, answered Ed.

The jetliner was en route to Las Vegas from St. Louis, carrying one hundred passengers and a flight crew of ten.  As it slowly started to lose altitude, David eased the yoke back.  "Okay, let’s contact Denver, and let them know we’ve got a very large problem.  Meanwhile, let’s turn this thing into a glider, and see how long we can keep her up while we try find someone on the ground with answers—if there are any to be found."

Ed nodded as David keyed his radio.  Denver, this is LV Charter Flight 1621 departing 2-8-0.  We have flame-outs on both engines.  We’ve followed re-start check-list procedures without success.  Clear any traffic below us, because—like it or not—we’re coming down!  After we get a handle on our rate of descent, I’ll get back to you.  We’re a Viking 2-3-3.  Viking should have a tech rep in Denver.  See if you can contact him...quick.  He’s got about 15 minutes to figure out a way to get a re-light on these engines.

The flight controller monitoring Flight 1621, Bud Richie, immediately alerted his superiors there was an emergency on one of his flights, as he replied, Flight 1621, I copy.  Understand you have no—that is zero—power and are controlling your rate of descent to the best of your ability.  Is that correct?

Affirmative, Denver, David radioed back.

Bud was an experienced flight controller who at once recognized, and appreciated, Copeland’s calmness.   Just as he started to speak again, Monroe Hastings, his watch commander and superior, walked up behind him.  He glanced at Monroe.  They have a complete power outage and are heading down.  The pilot seems to be quite calm.

Monroe and Bud had worked together for over three years, and Monroe had the greatest confidence in Bud.  He just nodded.  Carry on, you know the drill.

Monroe connected his headset to Bud’s station so he could listen in.  Bud said, 1621, say again your plane info.  I have it here, but want to verify.

As David was repeating the requested information from the cockpit, many of the passengers in the cabin had noticed the sudden silence.  Several realized the engines were no longer working.  The cabin crew had immediately observed this fact and, even before the questions started coming from the passengers, Flight Attendant Sally Baldwin calmly walked to the front of the plane, and hit the intercom to the cockpit to ask, Uh, this is Sally.  Do we have a problem?

Ed Patton answered, You bet, we do.  David will make an announcement soon.  Do your best to keep everyone calm.

How do I keep me calm?

Be a pro...that’s why we pay you the big bucks.

Thanks a heap.

After responding to Denver, David looked at Ed.  I take it Sally has noticed the silence back there?

Yeah.

Okay, announcement time.

After taking a few moments to compose his announcement, David announced, Ladies and gentlemen, this is your Captain speaking.  As some of you have no doubt noticed, we have lost power in both engines.  Repeated attempts to re-start them have failed.  Obviously, we are losing altitude and, without a re-start, will have to make a power-off landing.  Just where, we aren’t sure at this time.  Please rest assured we are capable of landing safely without power.  All of us who fly these planes have had extensive training for what to do in this type of emergency.  Your cabin crew will instruct you in the proper procedures to follow to ensure your safety.  When I have more information, I will get back to you.  For now, please do not panic, and if you have questions your flight attendants can’t answer, please try to understand that we will be quite busy up here, and won’t really have the time to answer a steady stream of questions.  Thank you.

When he finished his statement, David looked at Ed, and shrugged.  I’d much rather be up here flying a dead bird, than have to face what they’ll have to deal with back there.

By a long shot, agreed Ed.

Have you figured out our rate of descent yet?

Yeah.

Well?

How does a Rocky Mountain skiing trip grab you?  We’re coming down too fast to even think about trying for Pueblo, ‘cause we’re already well past it, and a good deal south.

I was afraid you were gonna say something like that.  There isn’t squat around here in the way of runways for a bird of this size.  I guess we just try to find a nice flat, snow-covered plateau somewhere and hope for the best.

Yeah, and one that’s low enough for choppers to come after us.

Good point.

***

Back in Denver, Monroe had calmly but rapidly gotten in touch with a Viking tech rep from the builder of the plane, and now had him patched through to Bud’s panel.  Bud said, 1621, this is Denver.  We have a Viking tech rep on the line.  Maybe he can help you figure out how to re-start your engines.

After about seven minutes, all agreed that the engines were not going to re-start, and Bud got back on the line.  Okay, 1621, let’s face facts.  You’re going down.  Now, let’s try to figure out where, and I’ll scramble everything we have.

Dave replied, We’re way ahead of you.  We plan to attempt a landing on a snow-packed plateau, mesa, or anything more-or-less flat, somewhere ahead in the Rockies.

We have you south, and just west of Pueblo.

Concur.  Just a few miles south, now about ten miles west.  Descending through 1-4-0 as we speak.

Roger, 1621.

Standing nearby, Monroe plugged into a direct line to Pueblo.  This is Denver control.  We have an emergency.  We have a big bird going in, presently just south and ten miles west of you.  Please get your search, and rescue people up at once.  We’ll get back to you when we have their impact location.

Then he called Colorado Springs with the same message, and finally got Denver air rescue assets launched.  Next he looked over the radar screens, and spotted what he wanted. CTC Airlines Flight 78, this is Denver control.  Over.

Chet Beasley, the Captain of Flight 78, replied, This is 78.  Go ahead Denver.

How is your fuel, 78?

Fine.

We have an emergency.  LV Charters Flight 1621 has lost power, and is going in.  They are about ten miles south of you, and a mile in front of you, heading the opposite direction. They are down to about fourteen thousand.  Can you swing south, and try to pick them up?  If so, I’d appreciate it if you could keep an eye on their landing spot until our emergency rescue folks show up.

Suddenly more alert, Chet said, On my way.  What about markings?

While Monroe was checking for that information, Chet announced to his passengers, This is the Captain speaking.  We are going to take a slight detour.  Another plane is in trouble, and is going down without power.  They are going to attempt a landing in the Rockies.  We’ve been asked to try and spot them, so that we can direct rescue teams to their location.

While there was some grumbling in the cabin of the plane, most people understood, and some even felt a bit of excitement at the prospect of being a part of something so important.

***

In the cabin of Flight 1621, Nicholas Newman looked over at the very attractive woman seated next to him.  I just realized, we’ve been talking for over an hour, and I don’t even know your name.  I’m Nick Newman.

She cast her blue eyes on Nick.  "I’m Phyllis McBride.  I guess if we’re going to die together, we should know each other’s names."

Nick grinned.  I don’t plan on dying.  Our Captain’s mellow voice has me reassured.

They were seated in the two front row seats on the right-hand side of the plane.  This was a luxury charter, with only twenty-five rows of four seats each, divided by an aisle between each set of two seats.  In the two seats immediately behind Nick and Phyllis sat Andy Humphrey and Raymond Jenkins.  They were bodyguards for Phyllis.  They both smiled as she asked Nick, Since you’re sure you’re going to be okay, do you mind if I hold your hand, so I wind up the same place as you?

When Phyllis and her guards found out which three seats they would have on the flight, she had joked, Okay, here’s the plan.  If the person in the other front seat is a good looking guy, I’ll sit next to him, and you two can sit behind.  If it’s some gal, or a fat old man, one of you gets the front seat.

***

As Nick offered his hand to Phyllis, Chet in CTC Flight 78 said, Denver, I have 1621.  Either they’re going in fast, or the mountains are coming up fast.  I’m not sure which.

Great, let me patch you in to them, intoned Monroe in his deep voice.

After the connection was made, Chet said, 1621, this is CTC 78.  I’m a few thousand feet above you, and back about a mile.  I’ll keep you in sight, until the Saint Bernards arrive with your vittles.

David smiled.  Glad to have you in the neighborhood.  Thanks.  At the rate the mountains are coming up to greet us, you won’t have to be around too long.  Hopefully, we’ll be able to get out, and wave to you once we’re down.

Good luck.  By the way, if you can hold her up for another two miles or so, I see a great place for you to land.  There’s a nice flat-looking spot almost dead ahead of you.

Thanks, I see it.  We’re plotting everything now.  I think we’ll make it.

I’ll cross my fingers and toes.

Bud and Monroe heard this exchange, and plotted about where the plane planned to come down.  Then Monroe got on the radio and directed all the rescue teams in that general direction.

With nothing to do now but wait, Monroe stretched his six-six frame, patted Bud on the back, and walked over to the coffee pot.  These emergencies were what made the job a nail-biter.  Everyone in the control room wished never to be confronted with situations like this, but, in spite of that, always felt a sense of accomplishment when they went well.  He wondered if this one would turn out okay.

He had wanted to be a pro-basketball player when he got out of collage, but—as the standing joke in the Hastings’ household went—White guys aren’t the only ones who can’t jump.

After he had been cut early in training camp by the team who had drafted him in the second round—because of his lack of vertical leap, amongst other things—he decided to get on with his life.  He felt it had been a rewarding life, and his people skills (added to his abilities as a controller) led to his present position.  He knew in his heart of hearts that both he and Bud had done everything they could, but it was still a sick feeling—to know that in minutes one of the planes he was responsible for was going to go down.

***

As the plane dropped lower and lower, David made sure the flight attendants had instructed all passengers in the proper procedure to follow just prior to impact.  Next he checked the glide path he and Ed had computed, and felt they were going to hit their target without much trouble.  Then he relaxed, waited, and reflected.  He thought of the strange set of circumstances that led him to be in this cockpit at this precise time.  He had been a senior pilot on one of the leading airlines when they announced there would have to be pilot cutbacks.  In an attempt to soften the blow, they offered nice early retirement packages to any senior pilot interested.  To save at least one job for one of the younger pilots, he took the package.

When he learned that Zack Somberg was putting together this charter operation based in Las Vegas, he applied for a job and was accepted at once.  Somberg had the vision of flying deluxe charters from major cities west of the Mississippi to Las Vegas.  Since his prices were slightly less than first-class fare on the major airlines, business soon took off.  Because he had the foresight to involve the major casinos in his venture, very few of his flights were anything other than totally sold out.

David had always felt he was blessed to have left the airline, and joined up with LV Charters—especially since the airline he left was no longer in existence, having been bought out by a larger airline, with a resulting loss of seniority to many of the pilots in his bought-out airline.

Ed swallowed.  Uh, David...we’re getting pretty close.

David snapped out of his reverie, and looked ahead to the looming snow landing field.  So it seems.  On snow gear-up looks like the best bet, but just before we hit, go to full flaps.  They’ll increase drag in the snow to slow us down faster.

Then he got on his radio.  Hey, 78.  You still there?

Yeah, right behind you, 1621.

By the way, the name’s David...David Copeland.  Thanks for sticking around.

No problem, David.  I’m Chet Beasley.  Bring this off like I’m sure you will, and I’ll buy you a drink somewhere along the line.

You’re on.  Anytime you’re in St. Louis or Las Vegas, give LV a call and see where I’m at.  I’ll tell them to expect your call.  One of these times we’ll wind up in the same place at the same time.

It’ll have to be St. Louis.  I never fly into Vegas...except for pleasure.

That’ll work.  I live there now.  Next time you drop in, give me a call, and I’ll help you support the casinos.

Yeah, like they need it.

***

In Denver, Bud looked at Monroe (who was also listening in on that conversation).  That is one cool fella flying that big glider.

Phew, I’ll say.  Me thinks I’d be shitting my pants right about now.

God, I hope he brings this off.

***

In the plane’s cabin, Nick said, It looks like the mountain is about to offer us a nice place to land.

Phyllis looked out the window.  I wish I had your confidence.  I don’t see anyplace out the window that I’d call a runway.

It’s not what’s out there, it’s what’s in front of us.  I bet those guys flying this thing have a nice place all picked out.

I don’t know if I should tell you this or not, but my parents died in a plane crash.  Not a big plane like this...a small private one.

I’m sorry to hear that.  Makes it a little easier to understand why you have that death grip on my hand.

Phyllis loosened her grip.  Was I hurting you?

No, answered Nick as he reached over, and patted the back of her hand with his other one.

Phyllis didn’t bother telling him the rest of her sad story.  She traveled with bodyguards because when she was a young woman setting out on a teaching career, her younger sister had been kidnapped, and subsequently killed.  After that, her father insisted she have bodyguards, which she readily agreed to, even though it did encumber her life no end.

Then, two years later, her parents had been killed when their small plane crashed, leaving her, the only remaining offspring, with a vast fortune.  Her father had invested heavily in the hi-tech industry just before it boomed.  That bit of good fortune was followed by the good sense to get out before the bust came.  He left behind a fortune of over half a billion dollars in convertible assets, and another half billion in the still-sound hi-tech stocks he had kept when selling off most of the other stock.

Now, as Phyllis clung to Nick’s hand, she wondered what all that money meant.  It wasn’t doing her one bit of good sitting on this plane, which was about to crash into a mountain. 

Behind her, her two bodyguards sat feeling helpless.  They prided themselves on always protecting their charge, and each (without saying anything to the other) somehow felt guilty that there was nothing he could do except ride this plane down with Phyllis, and hope for the best.

***

In the cockpit, David said, Uh, Denver.  I’d say we’ll be down in three minutes...maybe less.  This mountain is getting real close.  Thanks for all your help.

Roger that, 1621, replied Bud.

What’s the status of the rescue folks?

They’ll be with you within ten or fifteen minutes after you land, answered Monroe.

Thanks, Denver.  Have ‘em bring snowshoes.  And thanks for saying ‘land.’  I’d like to think that’s what I’m gonna do.

You will, chimed in Chet.  I’ve never gotten out of buying a drink I promised someone yet.

David chuckled.  Keep that thought.

The nearer they got to their selected snow field, the more David liked it.  The length looked to be more than sufficient, he hoped, and slightly uphill, a plus in slowing the plane once it touched down.

Feeling the time was near, he announced to all onboard, Prepare for landing.  We’ll be down momentarily.

2.

A uniformed officer walked over to Lieutenant Mark Yomo’s desk.  Captain wants to see you, Mark.

Thanks, replied Mark as he got up, went into Captain Patrick O’Reilly’s office, and asked, What’s up, Pat?

Those two bozos who decided to use Honolulu as a shooting gallery got nabbed in Colorado.  Some small berg called Del Norte.

Albanese and Giordano?

The same.

I’ll be damned.  That’s great!  What about extradition?

They waived it here.  Seems a needle already awaits them in New York.  Two other guys with them on a deal there already got convicted, so guess they decided to take their chances here.  I’ll get somebody on the next flight out, assuming the papers are ready by then.

How about me?  I’d love to bring those guys back personally.

You taking this a bit personal?

You might say.  Plus which, I know not to take them lightly.

Yeah.  Okay.  Who goes with you?

Nobody.  I can do it alone.

Bullshit, Mark.  You take someone with you.  These guys’re dangerous, real dangerous.

Mark sighed.  Pat, I can handle it.

You hardheaded...oh, all right.  Go ahead.

The two men being discussed in the Captain’s office were Anthony (Tony) Albanese and Frank Giordano, both New York mob figures.  After escaping New York jurisdiction, they had fled across the country, and on to Hawaii.  Once in Honolulu, they had gotten into a shootout in a local drinking and dining establishment.  Three people were shot, one later dying...though it was problematical if it could be proved in court that the death was a direct result of the wounds suffered, especially since the Medical Examiner felt otherwise.  It had taken Mark Yomo, and his team, nearly three weeks of hard investigative work to determine the identity of the two men.  When that was accomplished, an arrest warrant was issued.  Two police officers had been shot trying to make the arrest.  While neither had died as a result of his wounds, Albanese and Giordano were number one on the wanted list of the Honolulu Police Department.

***

When word reached Zack Somberg that one of his planes was in trouble, one of the first things he did was call his insurance company, Gold Rush Insurance out of Los Angeles.  Gold Rush was the primary carrier of the insurance policy on all LV Charter flights. 

When the president of Gold Rush received the message about Flight 1621, and received the flight manifest, he quickly summoned his lead investigator, Daniel Orf, into his office.  After Dan sat down at the invitation of his boss, he asked, What’s up?  You look like you swallowed a burr.

"Worse.  We’ve got a double dose of very bad news.  One of LV Charter’s planes is heading down—in the Rocky Mountains, no less—and one of the passengers is also covered by us.  To the tune of five million.  The plane coverage is leveraged, but the passenger, a gal by the name of Phyllis McBride, is another matter.  We eat the whole thing there.  How that came to pass I don’t know, but somebody’s ass is in a sling if we have to pay on it."

I take it I’m on my way to Colorado.

Yeah.  Take that fox you married with you.  Tell me again how an old fart like you winds up with such a knockout young wife.  Never mind.  It’d just be another of your lies.  Use my plane.

Do you know where I’m going?  Exactly?

No.  Get that info while you’re in the air.  Head for Denver, I guess.  Long before you get there, you’ll know where it went down and you can divert.

Any word on what the problem is?

Yeah, both damn engines flamed-out.  Denver got them onto a factory rep, and nothing they tried got them re-started.  Zack Somberg said the pilot is real cool, the best man he has.  So maybe there is hope the guy can land it somehow.

How bad are we hurt with the plane?

Depends on how many killed.  Real bad if the whole bunch of them die.

Does anybody have any idea of sabotage or anything like that?

"Not that I know of.  That’s why I’m sending you.  My secretary has the specs on the plane, and the complete passenger manifest, as well as crew list.  Check everybody out...and before you give me any shit about telling you how to do your job, just get with it."

Yes, boss.

That woman got you trained already with the ‘yes, boss,’ and ‘yes, dear’ shit?

Yes, boss.

Get outta here.

Yes...

Don’t say it!

...boss.

Dan chuckled as he left the office.  Then, after picking up the file from the secretary as instructed, he walked back to the investigative section of the company, saw his wife Janet on the phone, and waited until she was off. 

As she hung up the phone, he nodded, Grab your stuff.  We’re going on a trip.

Stuff, as in purse?

Yeah, funny face.  Then run home, and pack for both of us.  The warmest things we have.  After I put a few things in motion, I’ll come by in the boss’s limo and pick you up.  We’re taking his plane.

Would you mind telling me what this is about and where we’re going?

We have a plane, which we insure, going down in the Rocky Mountains—probably down by now.  To make the job more interesting, we also have an insured aboard.

The tall, slender, extremely good-looking redhead with the ample figure got up from her desk, kissed Dan lightly on the cheek, and hurried away without further comment.  One of the other investigators sighed as he watched the exchange between the two.  Not for the first time, he wondered how the tall, rugged looking, and much older, Dan had ever landed such a good-looking gal, and one with such a great personality.

The circumstances of Dan and Janet getting together were a long shot by any standards.  They had met in a bizarre manner.  The first time Dan had seen Janet, she was standing naked (except for panties), holding a drink, with a Honolulu policeman holding a gun on her.  Even stranger was the fact that she was in the hotel room of a prime suspect in a major kidnapping case, which Dan was investigating.

Two days later, the long-divorced Dan had proposed.  The proposal and acceptance were surprising and amazing to both parties.  In spite of Janet’s obvious good looks and fine body, Dan always teased her that what really won him over were her freckles, especially those on her breasts, which he found particularly charming. 

In reality, her straightforward honesty and bright mind were what drew him to her in such short order.  After they had married, Janet had asked if she could get a job working with the insurance company in the investigative section.  Dan wasn’t sure that was such a good idea, but paraded her into the company president’s office, introduced them, and walked out, leaving them alone.  When Janet came out of the office twenty minutes later, she walked up to Dan.  "I got the job, if you think you’re smart enough to make a good investigator out of me."

He was, and she turned out to be a dynamite investigator.

***

The landing was almost perfect.  Just prior to touchdown, David smoothly pulled back on the plane’s yoke while Ed extended the flaps.  The tail touched down just a fraction of a second before the rest of the plane.  The long straightaway they landed on was slightly uphill, which favored the prospects of a safe landing...but just as the circling Chet Beasley muttered, Wow, perfect, because it appeared the plane slid true and straight, disaster struck.

A huge boulder, hidden by the snow, caught the right engine of the plane.  That caused a chain reaction which, in the end, caused the plane to break into five large pieces, and two smaller ones.  One of those smaller ones was a section of fuselage, extending back from a spot just in front of the galley, and extended through the first row of seats on the right side of the plane.  That section flipped up and landed on the curved outside of the rest of the fuselage, and shot down the mountain like a runaway toboggan.

As they flew down the mountainside at breathtaking speeds, Nicholas Newman and Phyllis McBride were suspended upside down, held in place by their seat belts.  Neither of them said or did anything except to grab the seat arm nearest their free hand, while Phyllis clung to Nick’s other hand for dear life.  At one point their toboggan went off a ledge, sailed through space—for what seemed to Nick and Phyllis like an eternity—then slammed back down on the snow cover, and shushed along again at terrifying speeds.

Finally, they reached the tree line at a lower elevation, and a combination of low-hanging tree limbs, and thinning snow started to slow them.  One particularly thick tree limb seemed to grab the projectile and spin it around, breaking off a chunk of it.  That slowed them even more, which turned out to be very fortunate, because a short time later they slammed into a tree trunk.  That, while only a glancing blow, was enough to shatter the piece of fuselage still further.  The seats came loose, spun around and settled to a stop only fifteen feet from the galley.

They were now sitting nearly upright.  Nick took a deep breath, and exhaled.  I told you everything would be okay.

Phyllis looked at him in amazement and was torn between anger, laughter, and fear.  She settled for laughter.  By ‘okay’ I take it you mean we’re still alive.

For starters, answered Nick as he undid his seat belt, and gingerly stood up.  Even though he was a bit unsteady on his feet at first, he helped Phyllis as she undid her seat belt and stood up also.

Next, Nick walked over to a spot in the tree line that allowed a fairly clear look back up the mountain.  He could see nothing of the wreckage far above.  Guess we came quite a distance.  I can’t see anything of the plane.

I hope they’re okay.  My two bodyguards, Andy and Raymond, were sitting right behind me.

Bodyguards?

"Yes.  My sister was kidnapped and killed, and my