FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Joey & The Flying Machine

---

Prologue:

Beads of rain streaked against the multi-pane canopy of the old Lockheed on short final to Newark-Heath. Coming in with her usual nose down droop, "Starship Connie", the venerable sixty-six year old Constellation returned home after another million dollar run as the "Ammo Express". The old propliner had hauled over a million dollars worth of ammunition to the distribution center in Nevada for Paulo Firearms, owned by Joey and his father Andrew Paulo. Joey was the captain of his mate's short-nosed WV-1, the black and tan Brazilian Doberman flying in the left hand seat guiding the old bird in for landing. His co-pilot, Tony Alvarez was the older boyfriend to nineteen year old Felix Barion, the adopted son of Joey and his mate Rob Barion. The two tan and beige Dobies looked somewhat similar with black hair, goatees, and their muscular arms adorned in black inked sleeves that ran to their wrists. Felix was the flight engineer, monitoring the engine health, while Tony flew in the right hand seat, completing the Connie's three person crew. Sitting behind Joey was his eleven year old nephew Alvin, always excited about flying with his uncle who was raising him. He sat in the radioman's seat, opposite of Felix in the rather cramped cockpit watching the landing between the pilot's seats. Just outside of the cockpit slept Andrew, in a bench seat inside the small space just aft of the cockpit that lead into the now empty cargo hold. The pudgy sixty-one year old Doberman snored, tired after spending all day on the "Ammo Express".

"One hundred feet." Joey called out on his headset, pulling the yoke back to began flaring the nose for landing. Tony idled the throttles to the four radial engines, the speed bleeding off just as the runway threshold was crossed. With a rattling jolt, the WV-1 touched down at her home base, Joey immediately pulling reverse thrust to slow the plane down to a crawl. Felix shut the outboard engines down as they taxied off the runway onto the access road back to the hangar. The big Hamilton Standards, black painted with flat cropped tips that were yellow windmilled to a stop while they taxied on the inboard engines only. Joey pushed the rudder pedals and turned onto the large tarmac in front of "Connie HQ", the massive hangar housing the WV-1 and many other Constellations owned by Rob and his twin brother Jake Barion. After flying all day hauling ammo from Missouri to Nevada, the inboard engines shut down, concluding the week's third successful "Ammo Express" run.

Joey took his headset off and stowed it, getting up from his seat to immediately smack his head against the roof studded with dials and switches. He rubbed his tall, cropped ears in frustration at the low ceiling of the WV-1 as he clambered out, finding his Dad still asleep in the rear compartment.

"Hey old man!" exclaimed Joey sarcastically. "We're home!"

Andrew grunted and stirred from his slumber. "Boy I was out cold!"

"Boy sitting on your butt for six hours and making money is so exhausting..." chuckled his son.

The ground crew pushed the metal airstair up against the side of the tall plane. Joey unlocked the hatch and opened it up, feeling the balmy heat enter the cabin as a summer drizzle fell from slate gray skies.

Everyone disembarked, with Joey being the last to leave. He closed the hatch behind him as he descended the yellow painted metal steps, stepping onto the wet asphalt after another successful run hauling ammunition for his company. As Tony talked about what he wanted to cook for dinner, Felix and Joey did the usual post flight inspection of the old Connie. Built in 1949, the WV-1 was the Navy's Warning Star prototype, proving the concept of airborne early warning radar planes. Sans radomes, she passed on to the FAA and later US Air Force before being abandoned in Kansas for thirty years. Rob had purchased the plane last year and patched her up for flight, flying her back to her new home to live a cozy life at his Newark Museum of Aviation.

Finding no damage to her duralumin skin, Joey stepped back to look at the plane from a distance. She was a distinctive plane; with a unique triple finned tail, and a uniquely shaped dolphin like fuselage that came to a rounded point with her gray radar nose. Rob had her painted as a Military Air Transport Service Connie, with the distinctive golden arrow shaped "arrows and wings" MATS insignia on the nose and the globe insignia on the tail. Starship Connie was an anachronistic sight, a time capsule straight out of 1950. Rob used the WV-1 to haul aircraft parts around the country, but instead she was flying pallets of ammunition for Paulo Firearms following the loss of their shipping contracts. His company owned two ammunition plants in Missouri, and a rifle manufacturing plant in Virginia that built AR-15's and AK-74M's. All the parts built in the factories had to be shipped to distribution centers in Colorado and Nevada before being sent out to their respected stores. They had lost their ground transportation from the factory after a nasty car pileup outside of Topeka caused a huge ammunition explosion. A fire following the collision spread to the semi-truck trailer hauling nearly three hundred thousand rounds of ammunition destined for the military. The ammunition went off, destroying over forty cars, but by pure chance didn't kill anyone. In a convoluted series of events, the shipping company terminated their contract, citing "safety and security concerns". In a hurried, rushed effort, the WV-1 was pressed into use, proving that they could easily transport the ammo themselves and make a profit. While it did its job without issue, it was not a long term solution for Joey and his father due to the simple fact that the plane was not in his name. Starship Connie was owned by Rob, and while he did not care if Joey flew the plane for business related stuff, the FAA sure did. They were breathing down his neck concerning insurance and liability, adding more strain to Joey.

The Doberman let out a exhausted sigh standing on the tarmac. His father departed in his large black Ram pickup, Felix following behind with Tony in his white Ram 3500. It left just Joey and his little nephew on the tarmac who stood taking pictures with his camera. It had been a bad two weeks for him and his family, with a number of crisis's emerging. Besides the problems with his firearms company, he was dealing with the depressing fact that his mate Rob was in California, recovering physically and mentally following a robbery at a insurance company in Columbus. Rob and Alvin were taken hostage in a insurance heist until a vicious battle broke out between Rob and the gunmen. In a last-ditch, desperate effort to protect Alvin from bodily harm, Rob was shot three times and critically injured, sustaining gunshot wounds to his chest, left arm, and shoulder. The physical injuries and stress in protecting his little nephew drove Rob to have his fifth, and most violent nervous breakdown Joey had ever seen, leaving him as a mentally burned out, broken person. He was now recovering in Los Angeles with a friend of his who took him in to nurse him back to health. It pained Joey to see his wolf-hybrid lover in so much pain, but if there was any consolation in all the bad news, it was that his nephew Alvin was unhurt.

Alvin returned to see his uncle looking tired and unhappy. The young Dobie put his arms around his uncle, his hug bringing Joey out of his trance.

"Its okay Uncle Joey." smiled Alvin.

"Thanks Alvin." smiled Joey as he hugged Alvin in return. "You've been a big help."

"Its like a summertime adventure!" grinned Alvin.

"Oh these past few weeks have been an adventure..." Joey chuckled cynically.

"I know." frowned Alvin.

Joey and Alvin hopped into his black and neon blue Shelby Cobra, leaving the WV-1 to the ground crew to put her away. Leaving the airport perimeter, they drove the ten minutes back home into northern Newark, returning back to their home on 655 Karen Parkway.

Alvin ran inside with his usual energy, Joey following behind to see that Tony was starting dinner, being assisted by his mom Marie Paulo. Joey rolled his eyes sarcastically; his parents were good natured, but annoyingly intrusive into his life, made even worse now that they were his neighbors across the street. Andrew sat at the dinner table with a jar of homemade pickles in his lap, stuffing his muzzle with pickle after pickle. The sight made Joey chuckle as he went downstairs into the basement to check on his mate's office.

Their home didn't quite feel the same without Rob being around. They had been together for nearly nine years, and this was the first time that Rob had been away; he was now spending two months in Los Angeles to recuperate after such a horrific fight to the death in Columbus. Joey flipped the light on and stepped into Rob's office that was decorated with all the stuff Rob liked; cameras, planes, and spacecraft. It seemed truly empty without his eccentric lover sitting at his desk doing work or griping about something on the telephone. Joey took a seat in Rob's office chair and sat for a moment to relax. He saw out of the corner of his eyes, a blinking red light on the answering machine, a new message for Rob. Joey wheeled himself over and hit "play", listening to the automated voice tell him the time and date of the call.

"Hello Rob this is Rhonda Hilldale of the Hilldale Prop Museum in Santa Fe, New Mexico...I'm calling to inquire if you are interested in purchasing a potentially flyable L-1049H Super Constellation from our museum. We are asking for six hundred thousand dollars for the plane so we can continue with our restoration of a L-049 that the museum had purchased. If you are interested the plane comes with a full set of spares, including two engines, and two whole sets of propeller blades. The airframe was last flown in 1993, to our museum, but we've kept her in near flying condition and run the engines twice a year. If you are interested...please give us a call back at this number. Thanks! Bye."

---

Joey & The Flying Machine

---

New Mexico was, for as far as the eye could see, a desert wasteland. Through the cockpit windows of "Queen Vanessa", Joey could see nothing but scorched earth for miles and miles, a Mars like landscape of tan and reddish hues with dark hills jutting up in the heat distorted distance. Santa Fe's airport was carved out of the sun baked earth, a regional airport that looked like a giant asterisk from the sky. With landing gear and flaps down, Joey and his grandfather Jose guided the old Super Connie in for a landing. "Queen Vanessa" was Joey and Rob's first civil Super Constellation, a L-1049H "Super-H". With a fully restored passenger interior, and wingtip tanks, the Connie was painted in the white, blue, and bare metal markings of Varig, a Brazilian airline. The plane was named after Joey's grandmother Vanessa Paulo, who died in a plane crash forty-three years before.

At nearly eighty-nine, old Jose was fragile looking. The elderly Doberman was a frail old man with snow white hair, and thick framed glasses. But despite his age, he still knew everything about the old Constellation, jockeying her around in the sky with his grandson. He tagged along to help his grandson buy a Super Constellation that had come up for sale in Santa Fe.

A phone call by pure chance lead Joey on an adventure to New Mexico in the hunt to purchase a L-1049H. The Hilldale Prop Museum was looking to sell their preserved Super Connie after acquiring a rarer short-nosed Connie to restore . He had finally convinced Andrew to buy the half million dollar plane to continue the Ammo Express runs after the FAA grounded them with the WV-1, citing legal, liability, and ownership "issues".

"Five hundred feet." Jose called out over the headset, the runway looming in the heat distorted distance. Joey turned his head to briefly look out the cockpit, watching the big silver Curtiss propellers spin and glisten, creating circles edged in green and yellow from the warning stripes on the tips. At nearly a hundred and ten degrees, the extreme heat was playing havoc on their lift and engine temperatures.

"Keep an eye on the engine temperature." Joey radioed to Felix at the flight engineer station.

"Gotcha. They're running hot...but its still within tolerances..." Felix replied over his headset.

Coming in with her nose down droop, Jose flared the plane for touchdown. As Joey idled the throttles, the Connie scraped against the baked, gray asphalt, rattling on touchdown. The prop wash kicked up clouds of beige dust, the Connie blowing it all around as Joey engaged in reverse thrust to slow them down. He engaged the Connie's squeaky brakes that squealed when he put his feet into the rudder pedals to engage them. He couldn't use reverse pitch for too long because the engines were overheating at full power. Felix shut the outboard engines down, Joey watching the flat cropped propeller blades windmill to a stop.

After six hours flying from Ohio, Queen Vanessa stopped on the tarmac in front of the Hilldale Prop Museum. It was a beige aluminum hangar with a white roof, a large sign reading their museum's name in bold black stenciling. Felix shut the inboard engines down, the plane going silent to conclude their flight.

"That was fun Joseph!" Jose grinned.

"That it was Grandpa." Joey smiled back as he got up from the captain's seat. He stood up and got out of his seat without smacking his head on the control panel above his head. The Super Constellation had a higher ceiling for the cockpit than the short-nosed L-749's, though the cockpit dimensions were still somewhat cramped. He helped his grandfather out of the right hand seat before exiting the cockpit and stepping into the passenger interior. His dad Andrew was still asleep, the sixty-one year old pudgy Doberman snoring. He was a veteran of the Brazilian Army, having lost an ear in battle with drug cartels during his time in the military.

Joey chuckled. "Hey Dad...sleepy beauty! Time to get up."

"I'm awake!" protested Andrew groggily. "This plane better be worth the money I have to invest in it!"

"You know what Mom says...don't be cheap Dad!" Joey exclaimed with a grin.

"I'm not cheap!" his father exclaimed.

Joey found his nephew Alvin sitting and chatting with Vlado, a burly, middle-aged, gray Croatian wolf who was Rob's personal mechanic. He oversaw the mechanics who worked at the airport and museum, having come along to inspect the airframe for airworthiness. Wearing a snug blue and gray camouflage tanktop, he showed Alvin his tattoo sleeve that ran down the entire length of his left arm, inked with flames and other abstract designs. He told Alvin about getting his sleeve, explaining to him the burns he sustained on his arm after getting shot down in a MiG-21 during the Yugoslav Wars.

The Santa Fe ground crew pushed an airstair up against the side of the plane for everyone to disembark. Joey opened the hatch to immediately feel the unbearable heat strike him. He liked the sun and warmth, but this was too much. Dressed in his olive green polo and cargo shorts, he felt as though he could not escape from the unmerciful heat. Joey took his grandpa and helped him down the steps, watching as two wolves walked from the hangar side door to approach them.

"Boy this is really hot!" Jose exclaimed, adjusting his WWII veteran hat.

"I agree Grandpa." Joey replied. The two wolves approached, the owners of the tiny museum.

"You must be Joey Paulo!" smiled a white wolfess. "I'm Rhonda Hilldale. We talked on the phone."

"Joey." smiled the Doberman. "And this is my grandfather Jose."

Joey introduced everyone on the tarmac before they were whisked away into the cool hangar to get them out of the harsh rays of the sun. The small museum was empty, void of people. The interior was entirely white; even the concrete was pale enough to almost pass for white. Cool white lights made everything look sterile as Joey stepped into the hangar bay. There were a few small planes; a couple vintage Pipers, a 1934 Electra, and a old Boeing Stearman. But smack dab in the middle of the large hangar was the L-1049H. The Dobie walked across the floor to stare at the giant propliner that dwarfed everything around it.

The entire L-1049 was unpainted, except for her radar nose which was a dull, matte black color. Her registration "N4879C" was stenciled in black on the nose wheel doors and rear fuselage, the only markings applied. Walking around, Joey visually inspected the airframe, knowing very little about what to look for when plane buying. The huge radial engines were geared up to three blade Curtiss Electric propellers, the same units fitted to his own Connie sitting outside. They were long, rectangular shaped blades that were flat tipped and sported black deicer boots along the inner edges of the blades. The engines had the double spinner design of late model civil Connies; the usual blunt propeller spinner, and a smoothed metal ring that wrapped around behind the prop covering the magnetos to streamline the cowling. The 600 gallon wingtip tanks were not installed on this L-1049H, which didn't matter to Joey one way or another as he walked towards the back of the plane. The propliner was unusual in that on her left side, she was missing half her square windows. The forward half of the left fuselage side was just solid duralumin, with the square windows starting in the middle where the wings attached at. There were only nine windows on the left side, but fourteen on the right hand side. A large cargo door was on the left, with a smaller unit ahead near the nose. Both had smaller personnel doors in the middle of the larger doors.

"What do you think?" asked Jim Hilldale, the gray wolf the husband to Rhonda.

"She looks great on the outside...but I'm not a aviation expert like my partner is. I'm going to leave the inspection work to Vlado." chuckled Joey.

Jim went to fetch the airstair from outside as Vlado started inspecting the airframe for corrosion. Joey's grandfather stood with him as they slowly scrutinized the belly for any obvious signs of rust and damage to the duralumin skin. Joey was happy his grandfather came along to help. Old Jose flew Constellations for many years in Brazil, knowing a lot about their history, and their mechanical complexity. He did not hesitate to come along and fly with his grandson to help him in his quest to bring his own Super Connie home.

Jim returned with the airstair and propped it up against the fuselage and locked the wheels. Joey climbed up the yellow painted steps and unlocked the hatch, pushing it in and sliding it open to reveal the dim interior. Light filtered through the windows as Joey stepped inside, smelling stale air and cosmoline. Wooden crates and cardboard boxes filled the interior, with "SPARE PARTS" scribbled on them. Joey opened one box up to find it full of spare gauges for the flight engineer's panel. He coughed at all the dust he kicked up, waving his paw around to blow it away from his muzzle. Rays of light were diffracted through the dust as Joey made his way back towards the rear of the fuselage. He found a bunch of long, wooden, rectangular crates stamped with "CURTISS C684S-C502". Prying one open, he found a Curtiss propeller blade, padded by foam that reeked of oil and cosmoline. The other crates all contained a individual blade. At sixteen feet along, they were heavy and cumbersome to move, but Joey now had two spare sets of Curtiss propellers for the plane.

Joey heard his grandfather's voice near the front of plane. "Joseph you want to give your grandfather a hand?" Joey ran over dodging boxes to help his grandpa onboard, old Jose brushing the dust off his blue polo shirt as he looked around at the interior.

"This is kinda messy!" laughed his grandfather with a smile.

"No kidding." chuckled Joey. Jose stepped into the cockpit, Joey following him behind as Jose talked about the importance of checking "the office space". The cockpit was in immaculate condition, with all the gauges accounted for and the control yokes looking good. The old propliner looked like an immaculate time capsule, frozen in time as dust lightly coated all the gauges and seats.

"I checked the belly with Vlado...and we couldn't find any corrosion bubbling up through the skin...but he's checking the wing spars right now." Jose explained.

"Grandpa I'm very appreciated of you coming along." Joey said as they took a seat inside the cockpit. Joey placed his paws on the control yoke, envisioning the plane flying once again. "I don't know much about this plane other than flying it."

Jose smiled. "In time you'll learn Joseph. Your mate Rob seems to have no issue in learning how to maintain such a plane!"

"That's because Rob is one of a kind." teased Joey with a blissful smile gracing his muzzle. "Never underestimate the power of disgruntled people."

"I'm sure this old bird will fly again. She seems to have been taken well care of." Jose explained. "She'll fly for many years again knowing how Rob takes care of these things."

"Thanks grandpa." smiled Joey.

Joey heard the sound of someone boarding the plane. He turned around to find Vlado climbing aboard, the Croatian wolf stepping into the dusty cockpit to give Joey an update. With his Croatian accented voice, he explained, "I can't find any surface corrosion on the wings or fuselage. I opened up the inspection panels, and look at the wing spar and it looks okay. An FAA inspector is on his way over to double check my findings."

"What about the fuel system?" Jose asked him.

"I found a leak on the number three engine's fuel intake. Some hoses are going to need replacing along with O-rings and whatnot."

"The tires looked a bit old..." Joey added.

"That's going to need replacing too. I'm going to just change them out with tires from a Airbus."

"Sounds good. How long do you think this might take?" Joey probed for more information from Vlado.

Vlado scratched his chin and had a look of concentrated thought. "Maybe a few weeks? I need to get back down and inspect the engines."

Joey helped his grandfather down the narrow steps, following Vlado as he returned to inspecting the aircraft. While they waited for the FAA inspector, Vlado and Joey popped the heavy cowling petals open to all four engines to inspect the R-3350's. The radials were massive, with eighteen cylinders and three power recovery turbines that made up its turbocompound unit. They were capable of pushing over three thousand horsepower each with the right fuels. Vlado took his time to poke around each engine to find any obvious defects with her cylinders and turbines. The turbines spun freely, and the propellers, when slowly turned offered no abnormal resistance than what they usually gave. As Vlado worked, Joey and Jose stood, Joey listening to his grandfather tell him some of his own experiences with the engine.

"When we had strict schedules...we ran these engines hard...and we had a lot of in-flight failures due to the turbines burning out." Jose chuckled. "That's something you don't want to do with these engines, is overstrain them by switching into high blower."

"Duly noted." Joey nodded.

"They look to be well taken care of." Jose added to Jim Hilldale who stood by observing.

"We haven't had a chance to run them this year, but we try and run the engines twice a year just prevent them from seizing up." he explained.

"Before we finalize the deal, I want to just run one engine and make sure all the systems are a go." Joey added.

"Fair enough Joey."

The FAA inspector finally arrived by two-thirty. A slender wolf in his blue coveralls and clutching a clipboard, he met with Vlado as they discussed about the plane, going over her history and log books before showing him all the stuff that needed work on. For two hours, the inspector went over everything Vlado had done, reaching the same conclusion as the Croatian wolf in what needed fixing and what was okay.

"So what's the verdict?" Andrew asked. "If I'm putting money in this plane it better work!"

"Don't be cheap Dad!" Joey reminded him.

"Okay." the FAA inspector said. "The plane will be fit to fly and will receive a permit to fly once the fuel system is fixed, new tires are installed, and the propellers are deemed airworthy after a secondary inspection."

"How much is that going to cost me?" Andrew asked just as Joey jabbed him with his elbow.

"Let me doing the talking!" grinned Joey. "My Dad's a real keeper huh?"

The inspector gave Joey a copy of his report and left, exiting the museum through a side door. Joey looked at the stack of paperwork before focusing back onto the plane that dominated the hangar. He really wished his mate was with him to help in the decision making, but he was in no mental shape to endure decision making at the moment. Plus, the thought of surprising his mate with such a purchase was on his mind; not to gloat, but to prove that he too could pick out, restore, and maintain such a mechanically complex device.

Jim approached Joey, his shoes squeaking against the polished concrete. "Are you impressed enough to commit to purchasing?"

Joey pursed his lips in deep concentration staring at the old Connie. "If we can get an engine started...and the electrical system works...then we'll commit."

"Sounds good to me, though I'd wait until sunset to try it out on the tarmac." Rhonda added.

Everyone took the opportunity to take a break and grab something to eat in Santa Fe, taking a few hours to tour the city and wait for sundown when the temperature would go down. While Felix and Vlado did their own thing in town, Joey, his dad, grandpa, and nephew all got something to eat at a buffet. They eventually met up around seven-thirty back at the museum, where Jim and his wife had already pulled the Constellation out onto the tarmac. In the evening light, the dull metal skin of the Constellation took on a amber hue, glistening like a rare gem. Vlado grabbed his toolbox and returned to working on the old bird, preparing her number one engine for a test run.

With the number three engine out of commission due to a fuel leak, Jim Hilldale dragged a power cart over and plugged it into the electrical port near the nose wheel to provide power. As Vlado poured oil into the reservoir of the engine, Joey climbed aboard on the opposite end, stepping into the stuffy cockpit to find Felix at the flight engineer's station. Indicator lights glowed amber and green, the electrical system up and running. Though the thin haze of dust that Felix wiped away, gauges registered life once more.

"Joseph! I'll sit in here and help Felix." Jose told his grandson as he slowly made his way into the cockpit.

"Okay Grandpa." Joey replied, leaving the cockpit and climbing down the steps to stand on the tarmac with his father, nephew, and the Hilldales.

"I'm so excited!" grinned Alvin. "Aren't you Uncle Joey?"

"I got butterflies in my stomach." chuckled Joey with a smile. He went over to help Vlado turn the heavy blades to check for hydraulic lock, turning the three blade airscrew a dozen times to free up oil in the engine that hadn't run in over a year. With the cowling opened up, the innards of the radial engine and its massive banks of cylinders were all exposed for everyone to see on its crucial test run.

Felix pressurized the fuel system, with the immediate effect of it starting to leak from the number three engine. 100LL dripped from the faulty number three engine, making a small puddle of explosive fuel on the tarmac. The power cart hummed in the distance, powering the Connie as preparation was made to start her engine. At the engineer's station, Felix adjusted the prop pitch of the Curtiss unit, testing her electrical controls as the blade pitch was rotated around. The long, metal blades slowly were adjusted, going from reverse, to flat pitch, to feather, and then back to its normal in-flight pitch angle.

"Go on one." Vlado radioed to Felix on a walkie-talkie.

Joey listened as the starter engaged, the massive Duplex-Cyclone beginning to turn its propeller lazily. Its starter strained to turn the heavy prop for many seconds, everyone watching intensely, especially Andrew who was going to be paying for the plane. Thirty seconds went by and the starter still struggled to get the cold cylinders firing. A few pops deep within the engine signaled some life as smoke began to slowly waver out of the turbine's exhaust pipes. A few more pops were emitted before the engine finally began to catch, the propeller gaining momentum. With a fiery start the R-3350 coughed to life, belching out red and yellow flames from her turbocompound system. The engine strained to run, its cylinders chugging away furiously before a tremendous backfire erupted out of the exhaust. Clouds of arid, oily smoke and brilliant flames spat out just as the engine died, its prop coming to a stop.

Joey blinked and looked at Vlado with some concern, the Croatian wolf seemingly unconcerned about the events unfolding.

"Don't worry Joey...these engines are cranky to start when they haven't run in a while."

The smoke dissipated as Jose poked his head out the cockpit windows, motioning for Felix to start her again. Once again the starter strained to turn the prop, whining deep within the engine. Andrew pursed his lips in concentration watching. The cylinders began catching just as the engine bolted to life, the prop wash blowing the smoke behind as the engine finally caught and began idling. Felix let the engine warm up as it idled, the still hot evening heat helping the R-3350 to loosen up and warm its cylinders to operating temperature. As the temperature rose, the engine's rough sound faded to a soft purr, Felix increasing the power watching the gauges respond. The engine revved up to full power slowly, a grin emerging on Joey's face.

Everyone on the tarmac began to clap in excitement that they managed to get the number one engine started.

"What do you say now Joey?" Jim asked.

"I say you have a deal!" grinned Joey in return.

---

Two Weeks Later

---

"N4879C" emerged from the bright glare of the evening sun, lined up for the single runway at Newark-Heath. The low drone of radial engines slowly grew louder as a small crowd stood on the tarmac watching. Joey stood in astonishment at the sight of the old graceful Connie coming in to land slightly nose down. Even more excited was his little nephew Alvin, who watched with a huge grin on his face at the fact that the L-1049 now wore the paint scheme that he designed and named "Black Lightning".

Joey's family clapped in excitement as the tires touched down on Ohio soil. Marie and Andrew clapped with old Jose as the Connie touched her nose wheel down and immediately went into full reverse to stop. Out of the sun's harsh glare, her new paint scheme became viewable. N4879C was still mostly bare metal, but now sported a black lightning bolt cheatline outlined in bright orange. The design scalloped off the matte black radar nose, and formed a black and orange outlined white oval that bore the logo of Paulo Firearms; a red rounded square with the initials "PF" written in fancy cursive. The oval's outline continued on where it formed the lightning bolt kink to follow the contours of the hunchback fuselage, going along the windows until it terminated at the middle fin of the tripletail. "PAULO FIREARMS LTD." was written on the upper fuselage in red stenciling, the whole plane sporting a nostalgic scheme that was a cross between Flying Tiger Line and Eastern Airlines. "AMMO EXPRESS" was stenciled on the outer fins in bold black paint.

Turning off the runway, the old propliner taxied slowly along the narrow access road, the outboard engines shutting down. Overhauled Curtiss Electric propellers windmilled to a stop, the polished metal blades now sporting red and white tips. She was being piloted by Vlado Horvat and Rob's two friends- gay couple Mark Prince, and his husband Tanner Rodriguez. Joey was appreciative of Mark's help; not only was he nursing a badly injured Rob back to health; he provided the extra mechanics and a few spare parts to get the plane ready for flight. After another bureaucratic blunder with the FAA, in which Joey was unable to fly the plane himself because of the non-standard ferry permit, Mark agreed to fly the plane with his husband back to Ohio.

The Connie's brakes squealed as Mark applied them, coming to a stop on the tarmac after a six hour flight from Santa Fe. As the inboard engines powered down, the Paulos all gave a final round of happy applause. The ground crew approached and chocked her, shoving the chocks against her brand new wheels to keep her from rolling. They rolled the airstair up against the plane, the hatch opening inwards to reveal "The Dark Prince" himself, Mark.

With fur as black as night, Mark was a handsome, tall wolf with brilliant green eyes. Wearing his blue coveralls, he descended the steps first, carrying a clipboard with him tucked under his arm. Next out was his husband Tanner, a beige and tan wolf with coal black hair and goatee and finally Vlado who descended the steps behind them.

"Not a bad ride Joey!" grinned Mark as he reached a paw out for a handshake. "How are things?"

"Dull without Rob." chuckled Joey who grasped his paw for a tight shake. "How is Rob?"

"Better." was Mark's response. "He's starting to return to his former self."

"Good. I was really worried about him." admitted Joey.

"We all were." Tanner added. "Especially when he violently flipped me into the couch!"

"Oh boy." chuckled the Doberman.

"But Rob is light years better now. We're currently working on a R7V-1 outside of Phoenix right now." Mark added. "Its really been helping Rob return to normal."

"The subjective sense of normal!" Tanner grinned.

"I don't know how to truly thank you guys for helping my mate in a very vulnerable time in his life." Joey said to them.

"Oh don't mention it." smiled Mark.

Joey walked over with Mark and Tanner to examine the paint scheme up close to his new Super Constellation. Alvin designed it, coloring a design in his sketch pad after Joey had mentioned about a paint scheme. The large engine cowlings were now decorated with a scalloped black and orange design around the front, borrowing the design from the old Eastern paint scheme.

"The fuel system is fixed, new hoses, o-rings, seals, the hydraulic system is refurbished, plus the propellers are all good to go." Mark pointed out. He motioned for Joey to come towards the nose, the black wolf pointing upwards. "And this is for your little nephew."

The plane was christened "Alvin Paulo" since Alvin not only designed the paint scheme, but also came up with the idea of flying the ammunition around.

"Alvin!" Joey called, his nephew running over upon hearing his name.

"Hi Mark and Tanner!" grinned Alvin. "How are you two?"

"Tired!" laughed Tanner. "But swell."

"Do you like the paint scheme I made?" grinned Alvin.

"Oh we do." smiled Mark. "I liked it so much that I felt this was deserving."

Alvin looked up to see his name grace the side of the nose, a big grin on his face. "Yay!" he exclaimed. "My name is on it! Isn't that cool Uncle Joey?"

"You deserve it Alvin." Joey smiled. "For coming up with such a brilliant idea."

"Thank you Uncle Joey!" Alvin exclaimed, hugging his uncle tightly as Joey smiled and returned the hug.

"Anything for you little nephew of mine."

Saying their goodbyes, Mark and Tanner caught a cab to head back to Port Columbus to catch their flight back to L.A, leaving Joey and the Paulos on the tarmac with their new plane. He raised his phone up and took a photo of her, with the sun glaring brilliantly off the polished metal skin.

"Joseph this is a gorgeous plane!" Jose said to his grandson. "I'm very proud of you."

"Thanks Grandpa." smiled Joey. "It makes me very happy hearing that from you."

"I never thought I'd see the day when my grandchild would learn to fly...let alone bringing a Constellation home!" Jose chuckled.

"Neither did I at this time last year." chuckled Joey as well. "I want to thank you so much for helping me Grandpa in making this purchase. I don't know much about plane mechanics like Rob...let alone plane buying!"

"Anything for my grandson!" exclaimed Jose.

"I might...still need your help in flying the plane on the ammo runs." Joey said. "Felix and Tony can't always be my co-pilot and flight engineer...and Vlado isn't enough."

"I don't know how much longer I have on this world...but as long as the almighty allows me...I'll gladly be your co-pilot." his grandfather grinned. "Gives me something to do rather than play chess all day!"

---

A misty, morning fog hugged the ground with the sun just below the horizon. The sky was still dark, a deep purplish-blue with the stars and moon shining overhead. On the foggy tarmac sat "Alvin Paulo", the L-1049H being readied for her first official flight as the "Ammo Express." Joey and Vlado turned the heavy propeller blades to each engine, hand turning each prop a dozen times to prepare the radials for flight. While Joey turned the blades, his grandfather Jose stood examining the nose wheel tires with Alvin, his great grandson. All the while, Andrew stood, eating a bagel watching.

"That should do it." Joey announced, stepping back to watch the ground crew fuel the plane up with 100LL.

"Joseph the tires look good." old Jose said. "Engines are hand turned, I think we're about ready."

Andrew wiped his paws free of crumbs as he climbed up the steps behind his son and father. Entering through the forward hatch, the first sixteen feet of the forward fuselage was turned into a small lounge area. It had a olive green couch, a small table and chairs, and a small fridge and microwave. A television was bolted onto the port wall, where there were no windows. Andrew took a seat on the couch and stretched out; it was his desire to put the lounge area in, as part of the condition for him to buy the plane for Joey.

"Just wake me up when we get to Jefferson City!" he exclaimed. s

"Thank god we put the lounge in the forward fuselage and not the tail. We'd be scraping against the ground." chuckled Joey.

"Are you calling me fat son?"

"I ain't calling you a model!" grinned Joey who slipped into the cockpit to get prepared for flight. He jumped into the captain's seat, his grandfather in the right-hand seat strapping himself in like Vlado. Energetic Alvin, happy to ride along in the plane named after him strapped himself in behind his uncle in the radioman's seat, completing the usual entourage inside the plane.

"Alrighty...let's get this show on the road." Joey said, reaching behind him to grab the flight checklist for the Super Constellation. Him and his grandfather went through the list, inspecting the controls, engine warning bells, and radio systems. With everything checking out, Vlado began engine ignition, starting the number three engine first. With the generator on that engine, it provided power to start the other engines without need for the batteries in the tail, which replaced the old gas powered APU.

The number three engine coughed to life, belching flames and smoke out of the exhaust. It roughly idled with the cold rattle of cylinders, its RPM low. Vlado waited a few moments before he turned the magnetos over for the number four engine and hit the starter switch, Jose watching out the cockpit as the huge Curtiss propeller turned slowly before finally catching in a burst of smoke and flames. Number two, then finally number one started up uneventfully, their rough sound gradually fading to a smooth idle as the engine temperature came up.

"Looks like we're okay here." Vlado announced, seeing that all the engine's oil temperature and pressure came up to spec.

"Good." Joey replied. He turned around to see his nephew Alvin sitting contently behind him. "You ready Alvin?"

"I am!" his nephew grinned.

Joey smiled back in return. "Let's go!"

Releasing the brakes, Joey began to taxi the Super Connie down the tarmac and onto the service road leading to the runway. The rumble of the four piston engines softly filled the plane while Joey and Jose slowly guided the vintage propliner around down the narrow road.

Turning onto the runway, Joey stopped and took one final look at everything before making the decision for takeoff. The engines looked fine and were at operating temperature and they had a full tank of fuel for the flight to Missouri, then Nevada. He reached and grabbed the throttles, pushing them to command maximum power from his turbocompound radials. They immediately revved up to full power, emitting brilliant blue flames from their exhaust. The fiery Duplex-Cyclones propelled them down the runway, gaining speed and momentum.

"Approaching V1." announced Jose. Joey pulled back on the yoke to feel the nose wheel leave the pavement, the nose rising higher as they pulled off the ground and climbed skyward.

"V2 Joey." his grandfather announced, reaching over and raising the landing gear up. The old Connie passed over Route 79 for all the morning commuters to see, Joey banking left and turning around to head west towards Missouri. They climbed to nine thousand feet where Joey set the autopilot for them to cruise westward. He could relax as he let go of the yoke, the plane now piloting itself practically on its own towards Jefferson City, where his two ammunition plants were located at.

They left Ohio airspace and flew over Indiana where Joey adjusted the heading to begin the south-west turn towards Missouri. They skimmed over overcast that covered the southern half of Indiana and Illinois, rain beading against the windshield as they punched through wispy tops of the white clouds.

"I never thought I'd ever fly another Constellation." admitted Jose as they rode amongst the clouds.

Joey smiled and chuckled. "Never say never Grandpa."

"The last time I flew a Connie was fifty years ago. Back then I didn't think much about it because the new jets were so revolutionary! But retrospectively, the old Connie was special...she really helped iron out the comfort of long range travel!" Jose explained.

"People take stuff for granted until its nearly extinct." Joey added. "That's what Rob says at least."

"These planes were useless for a while! Nobody wanted them except for maybe drug smugglers!" chuckled old Jose.

"This plane can enjoy the luxury of hauling ammo and gun parts around." Joey said, patting the control yoke.

It was a two hour flight into Missouri with the Connie, Joey arriving at his ammunition plant by nine-thirty in the morning. With perfect visibility, Joey turned and descended for the large grass field outside of the Jefferson City plant that acted as a makeshift runway. A mile long field that was partially used for ammunition test firing, the runway that was crudely made simply was a strip where the grass was cut very short. Joey and Jose banked in with a gentle curve and touched down for landing.

The plane jolted on touchdown, kicking up dust as Joey applied full reverse power. The propellers kicked up clouds of brown dust that was blown about by the propeller wash, the added drag on the tires slowing them down after a two thousand foot roll. The huge plane taxied up onto the flat parking lot where the loading bays were located at, coming to a stop just as the two cargo doors opened up. Looking through the cockpit windows, some of the workers at the plant wheeled a airstair over, propping it against the right side of the fuselage.

Joey and his grandfather descended first, taking a moment to examine the plane for any oil leaks. While they did that, workers began loading their ammunition pallets. Forklift after forklift came rumbling out of the factory like a assembly line, carrying pallets of plastic shrink-wrapped ammunition- the "Paulo Special". Most of it was small caliber 5.56mm rounds, with a handful of pallets being large caliber .50BMG rounds. They were gingerly loaded into the Connie and sorted around with the heavier pallets towards the nose and lighter pallets at the tail. After a half hour of loading, the L-1049H had a belly full of pallets that filled most of her fuselage. The cargo doors were shut and everyone climbed back aboard for the four hour flight to Nevada.

The still warm engines started without complaint, producing far less smoke on ignition. Coming up to temp, Joey released the brakes and turned the plane around to take off on the grass field. The large tires rumbled off the pavement and rolled along the short grass, Joey taxiing a short distance before he pushed the throttles to full. All four engines roared to full power as they gained momentum down the runway, gaining lift before finally pulling skyward. Heavily loaded, the Connie slowly climbed away, turning and continuing to head west for Carson City Nevada.

"I never thought back in 1955 I would ever be flying the Connie on grass!" laughed Jose as they climbed away. "She was just too prestigious of an aircraft to deserve that!"

"She's the first airplane that I could really say is...gorgeous." admitted Joey. "And the reason why I got into flying after that little incident over the Atlantic last year!"

"Little?" chuckled Jose. "Any landing is a good landing if you walk away from it grandson!"

"Exactly." Joey chuckled in return. "Though I felt bad I blew all the tires..."

"I think Uncle Rob was more concerned about you!" giggled Alvin. "I'm going to go spend time with Grandpa!"

"Sure thing Alvin." smiled Joey. "Have fun!"

Alvin ran out of the cockpit to be with Andrew in the small cabin space immediately aft. As the Connie droned on, the landscape below them gradually changed. The flat, golden farm fields of the plains gradually grew more rugged, with the towering Rockies looming ahead. They forced Joey to climb higher for safety as the jagged, snow capped peaks drifted by below over Colorado. Departing the Rockies, the landscape began to turn arid and dry, a Mars like landscape of reddish-brown desert in Utah and Nevada.

Four hours into the air, the runway at Carson City loomed. Following a 767 in, the old Constellation was a time capsule in the sky, glimmering in the sun while descending in. They uneventfully touched down to a rattling jolt on landing, coming to a stop after a two thousand foot roll down the paved runway.

The distribution center had a building at the airport, a large gray building that handled packages of UPS. The Connie rumbled along the wide access roads to their tarmac, where a UPS DC-10 was parked at unloading goods. Ground crews flagged the Connie in for parking, the propliner being dwarfed by the DC-10 trijet.

"You're in luck Dad. After this ammo run, you'll recoup the money invested in this plane and make your first profit!" Joey told his Dad who stood at the cockpit entrance.

"I like to hear that son!" grinned Andrew. "This was a great idea!"

"I get a pay raise on my allowance right Grandpa? Seeing as I told you to fly the ammo!" exclaimed Alvin.

"We'll just have to work that in the budget! Money doesn't grow on trees!" laughed Andrew who patted Alvin on the head.

"Don't worry Alvin...I haven't got a pay raise in what Dad? Five years? Overworked and underpaid I tell ya!" grinned Joey sarcastically.

Joey climbed down first, adjusting his backwards turned baseball cap while doing a brief walk-around inspection. Standing outside, he watched the cargo doors slowly open, the whine of their motors raising the door up to reveal the pallets of ammunition tied down in the long cargo hold. In the opposite fashion, the forklifts came rumbling out and fetching the pallets of ammunition, lowering it down and wheeling it away into the warehouse.

"Joey Paulo!" announced one of the managers of the warehouse.

"Yeah." Joey replied.

"How are things? How was your flight? And that's a nice plane!" the manager announced, staring up at the vintage paint scheme that she wore.

"The flight was good. I am good, and thank you!" Joey replied in rapid succession.

"Well this is a bit of an unusual request...but...we got a call from another ammunition manufacturer about possibly flying out their ammunition as well?"

"Oh yeah?" Joey said with some surprise and interest.

"ZQ-One wants to find a faster way to ship ammunition, and they had heard of your Ammo Express runs that you and your father are doing." the manager explained.

Joey turned his attention away from the wolf and turned to see his father climbing down the airstair. "Hey Dad!" Joey called to get his father's attention as he walked over.

"Yeah son?"

"Another company wants us to fly their ammo to the distribution center." Joey said to his father who took an immediate interest.

"How much are they willing to pay?" grinned Andrew.

"I have no idea." the manager said rather hesitantly. "But you will have to call them and talk it out."

"Sounds good to me!" Andrew laughed. "Money Joey! This idea of Alvin is really paying off!"

"Oh boy." chuckled Joey. "Let's totally exploit Joey's talents even further!"

---

Joey and Alvin stood amongst the tall grass at the end of the runway, watching their L-1049H begin its takeoff roll nearly a mile away. Joey's friend Xan Radabaugh stood slightly ahead of them, the black Belgian wolf with a long flowing ponytail hunched over his 35mm taking photos. The distant engine rumble grew louder and louder as the plane thundered down the runway, flown by Felix, Jose, and Vlado for another run to Missouri.

"Cool!" Alvin exclaimed, firing away with his camera as the Connie roared loudly overhead. The silver propliner climbed skyward overhead into the aquamarine sky, heading westbound for Missouri to gather a load of ammunition to fly to Nevada. Alvin's idea to fly the ammo proved to be a success for Joey and his father.

Almost too successful~

In the weeks since starting his ammunition runs, other gun and ammunition companies jumped onboard to have their ammunition and rifles shipped across the country. What started as a twice a week run became nearly four days a week, just to keep up with demand from the new customers. The Connie was now flying to places like Georgia, Florida, Virginia, Mississippi to haul guns and ammunition to Nevada, Colorado, West Virginia, and Nebraska. She was becoming overwhelmed by the sheer demand and Joey was looking for a second aircraft to add to the Ammo Express.

"That should do it!" Xan announced, unbolting his 35mm from the tripod and placing it into his backpack. "I'll give you a edited copy in a few days."

"Thanks Xan." Joey told his friend.

"That was a cool takeoff Uncle Joey. I can't wait to see the pictures!" exclaimed Alvin.

"Oh I can't wait either."

"I assure you, they're going to be great. Everything looks great on film...especially when I shoot it." grinned Xan.

Joey and Xan went their separate ways after completing the photo shoot at the airport. Xan hopped into his green Integra parked on the tarmac beside Joey's Cobra, honking his horn as he waved and departed for the exit. Beside him and his nephew, the tarmac opposite of them was occupied by Jake Barion's rare Starliner, a large L-1649A. It was in the process of having its number four engine serviced, the rare propliner in the midst of a major restoration back to its TWA roots. Joey stood and watched as his nephew ran over to take photos with his camera.

He wanted another Super Constellation for flying ammo. Not only were they graceful, elegant, and full of history, but it would ease maintenance headaches and share common parts with his L-1049H. But Super Connies were rare gems in the modern world. Of the nearly eight-hundred built, only a handful remain, most as treasured museum pieces. Many of the lucky ones resided right at Newark-Heath, where they spent their time buttoned up inside the massive hangar behind him.

A golf cart pulled up onto the tarmac, driven by Geert, a Dutch Collie. He was in his early fifties, and co-owned the airport with Rob, a sort of pet project for the very wealthy Dutchman. He was a aviation know-it-all; a warbird hunter who scrounged the world for planes to sell.

"Hey Joey!" Geert announced to the Doberman. "How are things? I saw your Connie taking off just a bit ago. Surprised you're not flying it!"

"I fly Tuesday and Friday." chuckled Joey. "She's actually getting kinda overwhelmed."

"Military-industrial complex." smirked Geert jokingly. "But its great to see a old girl like that put to good use."

"I would like a second Constellation...but they're kinda rare." Joey said.

Geert chuckled and smiled. "They're prized museum pieces today. Only ones left in the wild pretty much are in the Caribbean, and I think Rob snatched up the last two known to exist down there!"

"They both need a lot of work done before they can be flown...and that doesn't do me much good." Joey shook his head.

"That's true." nodded Geert. "If you're looking for a second plane...I got word that a group up in Canada is planning on retiring their DC-7 fleet..."

"Oh?" Joey asked.

"Its up in Yellowknife...some group called Wild Air Cargo or something like that. They're replacing their three DC-7C's with Electras and are going to be putting them up for sale."

"Isn't Yellowknife really far north?"

"Yeah...up near Alaska..." chuckled Geert.

"Great..." Joey chuckled as well, shaking his head. "I hate the cold!"

"Not too many places where you can find these old birds still flying." Geert added. "Plus the Seven Seas shares the same Duplex-Cyclone as your Connie."

"How similar are the two planes?" Joey asked the Collie, who had a look of thought on his face.

"I've flown both the L-1049 and the DC-7 in the past and they're almost on par with each other. The Connie is more graceful, but looks aside, the DC-7 had better handling, lighter controls, and with the Seven Seas longer wings...slightly longer range. Payload...they're more or less the same."

Joey leaned against his car and thought about it. He really needed a second plane to keep up with the demand and this seemed like his only chance in finding a affordable propliner to add to the fleet while still flyable. "Okay." was Joey's response. "Do you have their contact information?"

---

Dinner time aboard the Queen Vanessa. The elegant Varig Connie rumbled northward over Manitoba, heading for Yellowknife, in the North West Territory of Canada. Inside her forward compartment, dinner was being served; a meal of roast beef, potatoes, and veggies. Amongst the droning engine noise, Joey sat with his nephew, father and grandfather at the small table in the forward compartment as Marie Paulo served them dinner. Sitting in one of the lounge chairs across from them, Geert relaxed and read a book, his shift in flying the plane with Joey and Jose having ended. Now Felix and his boyfriend Tony flew the Connie, while Vlado filled in for the flight engineer's position.

"Its so great to have the entire family at the dinner table." Marie said happily while returning with a plate of food for herself.

"Well...minus Robby..." chuckled Joey. "He's enjoying a Fig Newton at the Lucasville prison."

"I know...its kinda sad..." sighed his mom.

"I'm sad too..." frowned Andrew. "You didn't pack the bourbon ice cream!"

Joey watched his mom throw a potato at Andrew, who flinched at getting hit by a steaming spud. "You asshole, your son is in prison and all you care about is ice cream?!" she snapped.

"Okay crazies...we're on a plane here." Joey sarcastically quipped as he cut into a baked carrot.

Andrew regained his composure and bent down to pick up the potato off the floor to place on his plate. "Son this plane better be worth the trip!"

"Oh trust me Dad...I think this second plane is going to help us big time." Joey replied. "And are you seriously going to eat that potato that was on the floor..."

Andrew was already halfway into eating it as his chewing slowed, muttering a muffled "yes" with a mouth full of potato.

"Joey your father is so cheap he would eat a potato off the floor..." Marie rolled her eyes.

"Hey! There's starving kids in Africa that would kill for this potato! Waste not want not Marie!" Andrew protested.

"Let's not have another one of these dinner time moments!" Joey grinned sarcastically. "So Grandpa? You know anything about the DC-7?"

"Eh...not really. I know Panair do Brasil had some DC-7C's...and they competed with our Connies..." Jose shrugged as he swirled his glass of ice water. "They also were the best trimotors around!"

"Oh boy..." chuckled Joey. "Me and Rob have been lucky so far...we haven't blown an engine."

"That's because you're not running them as hard!" smiled Jose. "Back in our day...we had unrealistic schedule times...and we ran those engines hard, and put them away wet! You overheat those power recovery turbines and they just burn up and blow..."

"Well hopefully we don't do that." Joey replied, with a smile to his wedge shaped muzzle.

"I hope not! Those engines are not cheap! Sixty thousand for a overhaul? Joey that ain't cheap!" Andrew exclaimed.

"Andrew...don't be cheap..." glared Marie.

"Yeah Grandpa! If you want something quality...you gotta pay for it!" giggled Alvin.

"Exactly! Andrew...why don't you take some advice from your grandson!" Marie exclaimed.

"He's been listening to Rob too much! What do you think I'm made of...money?"

"I was going to say visceral fat...but I guess that works." smirked Joey.

"Andrew you have three million in the bank..." Marie grumbled. Joey watched his parents continue to argue, the usual dysfunctional banter between his bickering parents. It was a mixture of amusement and annoyance as they went back and forth in argument, Marie griping about Andrew's chronic cheapness.

"You are so damn cheap! How about that time you bought those cheap ass coats that made everyone sick!"

"Those coats were very nice looking!"

"You almost gave Rob pneumonia!"

Joey got up from his seat and picked up his cola. "Well while you two go on with this never ending argument...I'm going to the cockpit!"

"Same here!" Alvin exclaimed, getting up to follow his uncle as Marie and Andrew continued arguing.

"Boy aren't they crazy Alvin?" chuckled Joey as Alvin giggled with him. Alvin stepped into the cockpit first, Joey following behind as he closed the door behind him. At the controls were Tony and Felix, sitting back and monitoring the autopilot as they drifted northwest over the vast expanse of Canada. Joey looked out the cockpit windows at the dark green conifers far below them, getting a glance of the number one and two propellers spinning outside etching green and yellow circles.

"Looks like things are smooth sailing." Joey said to Felix and Tony who both looked up at him.

"Are your parents still arguing out there?" Felix asked with an amused grin.

"Oh yes. They have legendary battles over arbitrary things." chuckled Joey. "At least this time its not over how thick pizza crust has to be before its considered deep dish."

"Yum." Vlado added behind him.

"So back to business...everything is okay in here?" Joey asked.

Tony nodded. "Everything seems to be running just fine in here."

"Engines look good." Vlado spoke up over the engine noise in the cockpit.

Crossing into Saskatchewan, Joey watched from the cockpit the many lakes and forests drift in and out of view through the cloudbank. The Connie plotted along with the clouds, heading uneventfully over Uranium City and entering into the Northwest Territories. The landscape grew colder; a subarctic biome of pine forests and bare ragged rock from the Canadian Shield. Ice still lingered in the many small lakes that dotted the surface. Crossing over the vast Great Slave Lake, they had finally arrived to Yellowknife after thirteen hours in the air.

"Yellowknife...this is N9214D...requesting permission to land over." Felix radioed to the ground station.

"N9214D...this is Yellowknife...proceed. Over."

Taking manual control, Felix turned the yoke and banked the plane in a right turn heading for the runway.

"Hey, everyone take a seat and buckle up, its landing time." Felix announced into the intercom.

Joey stepped back into the cabin, Alvin wanting to stay in the cockpit to watch the landing. He took a seat in the forward compartment, sitting back and bucking himself in. Looking out the window, he had a perfect view of the propellers that clawed through the air, the ground slowly coming up as Felix continued the nose down descent to the runway.

Queen Vanessa flared and touched down with smoke puffing off her large tires, rolling down the seven thousand foot runway in full reverse pitch to slow down. Rumbling slowly along the service road, Joey returned to the cockpit to watch Felix slowly taxi the plane along the road. They turned onto the tarmac where a large hangar stood, appropriately named "WILD AIR CARGO".

"Oh I think this is the place." Joey pointed out. Felix and Tony turned the L-1049 around and parked her next to a light gray C-46. Once the propellers came to a stop, ground crew slowly approached and wedged their airstair up for everyone to depart.

Joey opened the hatch and was the first to step down, hearing his nephew clamber down the steps quickly right behind him. The air was cool at sixty degrees, and Joey stood in his gray windbreaker, finding it hard to imagine having to dig his fall clothes out for July. The sun was shining bright overhead, making things more cheerful as Joey looked around at his surroundings. There were vintage planes everywhere at Yellowknife, making the Doberman feel that he took a big step into the past. Besides the C-46 parked beside him, there was a DC-3 on the other side doing engine runs, the distinctive cold chugging of cylinders filling the air.

"You must be Joey Paulo eh?"

Joey turned around to see "Wildman Joe", Joseph McKenna, the owner of Wild Air Cargo and their DC-7's. He was a light gray wolf, almost white, middle aged with a somewhat grizzled look and windblown, tousled gray hair. He spoke with a obvious Canadian accent, a big grin on his face as he held a paw out. "You're interested in buying a DC-7 eh?"

Joey smiled and grasped his paw, tightly shaking in a friendly greeting. "That I am. Its a pleasure to meet you."

"Another Joe..." chuckled Wildman with a grin. He took the Doberman back to his office inside the expansive hangar he owned at Yellowknife. It was a cramped square, strewn with papers overflowing from the copier and desk. Bookshelves filled with technical manuals for aircraft along with a few model planes decorated the room.

"Its not too often that we get folks coming all the way from Ohio. Especially in a Connie!" chuckled Wildman as he sat behind his desk. A quick exchange for beverages resulted in Joey asking for a mug of coffee, which Wildman went over to fetch for both of them. He returned and handed Joey a green and blue mug, with the logo of his company stamped on it.

"I wasn't expecting to go this far out in search for a plane." Joey replied as he took a sip of the piping hot coffee.

"Eh...for the types of planes you're looking for...you gotta head north. This is the last place where these old birds still rule the sky!"

"As I've noticed." chuckled Joey with a smirk.

"So what brings you all the way here for a DC-7?" asked Wildman as he leaned back in his chair drinking his coffee. Joey explained to him about his firearms business with his father back in Ohio, and the loss of ground shipping from their manufacturing plants due to the accident in Topeka. Proving the concept with his mate's Constellation, they were now flying ammunition around for revenue, and were looking for another big propliner to add to their company fleet. "So why are you getting rid of your DC-7's?" was Joey's question to Wildman.

"I don't really want to get rid of them...but the needs of our customers are changing somewhat." explained the wolf. "We got our three DC-7CF's in 1989, and they've been real helpful all these years on the trunk lines...but they've become redundant now that we have five L-188's coming into service." Wildman went on to explain about the history of the planes, where they came from, and what their daily schedule was like. He talked to Joey about the particular DC-7 he was planning on selling him. It was fifty-nine years old and once flew for PanAm until retired and converted to a freighter in 1961. It eventually found its way into Canada flying cargo for Wildman Joe in 1989.

In the midst of their conversation, Wildman's cellphone went off, the wolf checking it before immediately answering. His face was one of immediate concern as he listened carefully. "Oh boy." was his melancholy response. "Tell them limp her to Yellowknife...my client who wants to buy her is here!"

He put his phone away with a look of concern on his grizzled face. "The plane you are wanting to buy is having a mechanical problem..."

The Doberman pursed his lips. "Oh boy."

Fire trucks lined the tarmac awaiting the arrival of the wounded plane. It suffered a massive engine failure and was limping home on three engines after flying back from Alaska. Joey and his family stood watching from the tarmac, seeing the plane in the distance begin lining up for landing. Alvin stood beside his uncle, firing off photos with his camera as the plane limped in with the number two engine shut down and four blade propeller feathered.

Joey stood observing what would be his future plane; the DC-7 was a vastly different plane than his Connie. Its fuselage was a straight, ovular cylinder with a traditional tall vertical stabilizer and elevators. Its wings were longer, slender at the ends with rounded wingtips. The cowlings for the R-3350's were vastly different, being cylindrical with a large air intake lip above and a smaller intake lip below around the cowling flaps, slightly standoffish from the nacelle. Four blade propellers with pointy spinners propelled her, each blade tipped in red.

Even from a distance away, Joey could tell something was seriously wrong with the aircraft. The number two engine was missing its lower cowling panel and oil streaked all against the nacelle. The DC-7 crossed the threshold and flared, touching down on the runway and rolling to a slow crawl. Fire trucks followed the plane as the pilots turned off the runway and rolled along the service road back to the tarmac. She rolled past Joey and his entourage, revealing the extent of her damage.

"Oh no..." Alvin pointed. The lower half of the R-3350 was practically missing, with a few cylinders blown clean off in a massive uncontained failure. A single cylinder dangled from the wiring harness cables. The wounded bird taxied onto the tarmac and turned to stop, its three engines powering down to have the four blade props windmill to a stop.

"Boy that's gonna need some work..." grumbled Wildman as he adjusted his baseball cap and walked over to examine the damage. Joey followed close by as firefighters in silver suits cautiously approached the aircraft just in case of fire. Oil dripped onto the tarmac from the destroyed engine, its inner carcass all dangling about. The engine was for all intent and purpose completely destroyed, with no hope of repair.

"Well there's your problem!" Andrew pointed. "This better be deducted from the final cost!"

"You have a spare engine right?" Joey asked Wildman who nodded.

"Yep." he replied. "We just gotta dig her out, get her prepped and hung up and get a new cowling panel for ya, and she'll get back into the air alright."

"How long do you think that'll take?" Joey asked.

"Two days perhaps?" Wildman shrugged.

"Don't worry Uncle Joey! They'll fix her!" Alvin smiled at his uncle.

"Thanks Alvin." Joey smiled back.

"Well...what now?" Felix asked.

Everyone eventually left the airport as the sun slowly set in the magenta skies to the west. They all found a motel to stay at; a unique place made to look like a giant log cabin. Everyone paired off and went to their rooms, Alvin staying with his Uncle, as everybody slipped away for the evening.

---

The air was brisk, but full of energy and commotion on the tarmac as the early morning work went on under the lights. The sun was not even over the horizon, with the clear sky above being a deep bluish-purple. Joey's breath was illuminated by the bright lights above him, standing and watching as a crane slowly maneuvered to pull the propeller off the damaged engine of his future DC-7. The machinery whirred and groaned as Vlado and another mechanic shoved on the lower two blades to wiggle the prop off the driveshaft. After a few minutes of heaving, the propeller popped off the shaft, dangling from its upper two blades by padded straps hooked to a long chain. The propeller was maneuvered away and sat down on a tarp.

"Sometimes they get stuck on the shaft...its a tight fit...you gotta wiggle them about!" Jose explained to Joey. Behind them, Felix and Tony chuckled quietly to each other over the innuendo, Joey turning around to see them shaking their heads trying to suppress their laughter. With the propeller removed, work commenced on stripping the dead engine off the nacelle. As the sun rose into the morning sky, work continued with Vlado assisting the Wild Air ground crew.

Wildman Joe approached Joey with the offer to fly one of his DC-7's. "To get to know how the airplane feels with cargo in the belly!" Joey agreed, finding that the flight with the DC-7 would take them to a remote Canadian village deep in the Arctic Circle to drop off pallets of wood and building supplies.

"Uncle Joey can I come along!" smiled Alvin. "Please?"

"Well..." Joey hesitated, looking over at Wildman.

"Bring him along eh!" Wildman grinned.

"Cool! Thank you!" Alvin grinned in response. "I like flying with my Uncle Joey!"

"He's like my little co-pilot." smiled Joey who put an arm around his nephew.

"Gonna be a future pilot eh?" Wildman asked Alvin.

"Someday! I want to fly my Uncle Rob's Corsair!" Alvin exclaimed.

"There ya go! I heard about you having to land your uncle's Mirage III earlier this year...I think you're heading in the right direction!" Wildman complimented.

Across the tarmac, the other DC-7 was being loaded with freight; pallets of drinking water, food, and building materials being loaded into the belly of the white, blue, and green plane. In the distance whistled by one of the "new" Electras, its turboprops whistling away as it taxied for takeoff. A row of the new Electras stood in the background, a telling sign of the numbered days the DC-7's had with the fleet.

The ground crew slowly hand turned the big Hamilton Standard propeller blades as Joey walked past, climbing up the airstair to hear Wildman Joe give Alvin a tour of the inside of their ride.

"Its so cool! We get to go into the Arctic!" exclaimed his nephew happily.

"Oh joy...cold..." chuckled Joey.

"I know! Isn't it great!" grinned Alvin with his face squinted with excitement.

Wildman Joe was the captain for the flight, with Joey taking the right hand spot. The DC-7 cockpit was slightly larger than the more tapered Connie cockpit. It had a three man crew; two pilots and a flight engineer. The control panel was shaped differently, being flat with numerous gauges and dials presented to the crew. Strapping in, Joey looked over at the flight checklist that was tossed into his lap. It followed the similar steps to his L-1049; check all the gauges, the flight controls, electrical system, hydraulics. The process took about twenty minutes before the DC-7 was cleared from their perspective. Outside the cockpit, the ground crew took position with their fire extinguishers in preparation for engine start.

"Go on three." announced Wildman as his flight engineer turned over the controls to start the first engine. The four blade prop began to slowly turn, its starter straining. The prop turned a few rotations before the engine finally caught in a cloud of white smoke and a glut of flame. The process was repeated slowly, for each engine until all four engines were up and running.

"Looks like everything is coming up to spec!" the flight engineer announced, the brown and white beagle adjusting fuel settings to the engines with his fuel mixture throttles.

"Alrighty, let's get this show on the road eh." Wildman said to Joey before turning to look back at Alvin sitting behind him. "Ready Alvin?"

"Yes!" he grinned.

The chocks were released from the tires, and the big DC-7 began to slowly roll on the tarmac. Maneuverability was the same as with the Connie, the rudder pedals controlling the direction of the single nose wheel tire. Maneuvering down the access road, the Douglas turned onto the runway and parked momentarily for one final checkout before the flight engineer gave the okay for takeoff. Wildman advanced the throttles and all four fiery R-3350's roared to life, beginning to propel them down the runway. They gained momentum with each second passed, the controls growing lighter before the plane finally rose into the air slowly, passing V1 and V2 before finally gaining enough speed to climb at a steeper angle.

Reaching their cruise altitude of eleven thousand feet, Wildman programmed the autopilot for their cruise, letting Joey fly the plane manually. Her controls were somewhat lighter than the Connie, having a bit faster response than the heavier Super Constellation. Wildman hit the "arm" button and the autopilot took over for the flight. The Doberman released the controls and could now relax for the rest of the flight.

"So what do you think so far eh? About the plane's handling?" Wildman asked Joey.

Joey rubbed his chin with a look of thought on his face. "Well...the plane is nice handling. The controls are pretty responsive."

"She's a very docile airplane. Great flyer." Wildman explained. "I'm going to miss these birds when they're gone."

"I'm not my mate when it comes to aircraft engines...but I hear the R-3350's are a bit temperamental?" Joey asked. "My grandpa tell me that as long as you're gentle with them they're reliable."

"He is correct. In my twenty-six years of flying DC-7's...I've had only a few catastrophic failures with the Duplex-Cyclone. This engine failure on your future plane is maybe the third time that's ever happened in twenty-six years? And the worst failure of the three. Most of the time the mechanical problems you face with the R-3350 stems from cylinder issues or overheating power recovery turbines. As long as the throttle movement is not abrupt and you're not running the piss out of the engine...they're very reliable powerplants eh."

As Joey and Wildman conversed in the cockpit, Alvin sat at the window in the cramped cargo hold, watching the exotic landscape below drift by. Many lakes dotted the surface with miles of dark green conifer forest all around. As the hours ticked by, the landscape began to grow colder, the forests thinning out as the Arctic circle loomed ahead. Dark green was replaced by a grayish-brown tundra, windswept and barren like a cold desert. The young Dobie took photos of the changing exotic landscape, excited to see such features that nowhere came close to what was in Ohio.

"Okay! We're now crossing into the Arctic!" Wildman announced to everyone.

"Oh boy...cold..." smiled Joey sarcastically. "I hate the cold."

"You wouldn't want to move to Yellowknife eh! Negative forty in winter, sixty-three in the summer!" laughed Wildman with a grin. "I love the cold. Can't stand those boiling hot places."

"I'm the exact opposite. I come from Brazil...I'm a sun Dobie...not a snow dog." chuckled Joey.

"You can have the heat. You can dress warmly...you don't dress coldly!" laughed Wildman.

For the first time ever, Joey saw the Arctic Ocean loom ahead. It was a cold, desolate looking sea, with bits of ice still floating. The water was a dark blue, somewhat gray, lifeless and unforgiving as Joey watched the propellers shimmer outside the cockpit.

"Cool! The Arctic Ocean!" exclaimed Alvin to his uncle as he snapped a photo outside of the cockpit window.

"Yeah...I'm sure its really cool...as in cold!" chuckled Joey as Alvin returned back to his seat in the cargo hold.

They crossed over Amundsen Gulf and finally saw Banks Island as Wildman began his descent into Sachs Harbour. Coming in low, Joey saw himself the lifeless tundra, which was a sandy beige color. The microscopic town was nestled right on the coast, a town of barely ninety people kept alive through oil exploration.

A runway was carved out of the tundra, reinforced with gravel as Wildman came in smoothly for a dusty touchdown. The rollout was bumpy, Joey feeling the DC-7 buck as gravel plinked around. She smoothed out and turned off the runway, following the dusty roads to a flat area where they could unload their cargo. The gray wolf turned the plane around, revved the engines up before finally shutting them down to conclude their uneventful flight.

Climbing down, Joey stepped foot on the beige soil of the tundra. Dressed in his thick jacket, the air had a cold bite to it that he hated so much. He put his gray knit cap over his head, adjusting the openings for his pointy, cropped ears. Other than a few buildings that made up what barely constituted an airport, the landscape was barren and windswept, looking like the surface of the moon. A frigid breeze whistled across the plains. While he hated the cold, his little nephew didn't seem fazed by it. Alvin ran up to be beside his uncle, wearing his puffy jacket and red winter cap on his head. He excitedly took photos with his uncle's Nikon camera, eagerly documenting their journey.

"I've never been in a tundra before!" Alvin exclaimed. "Its so cool Uncle Joey!"

"Miles and miles of nothing..." chuckled Joey to his nephew. "I'm not used to this kind of cold in July!"

"True!" giggled his nephew. "But what's the fun in just being in Newark all the time?"

"That's true!" Joey smiled. "Newark is where your hopes and dreams come to die."

Joey walked back to the plane listening to his shoes crunch against the soil. A forklift rumbled about removing pallets of goods from the open cargo door, rumbling past Joey on its way back to a gray building not far away. Looking back, Joey stopped when he saw the flight engineer and Wildman standing at the number one engine, looking up. There was a minor problem with a cowl flap on the engine nacelle.

"Uncle Joey! I want to take some photos of the ocean!" exclaimed Alvin.

"Oh, okay." Joey replied. Walking together, they walked down a small hill that was only covered in dull green lichen. Alvin lead the way happily, taking Joey to the coastline where they stood looking at the chunks of ice that floated in the choppy sea. Alvin raised the expensive Nikon with its big lens to take photos of the ice, capturing their gray and white chunks adrift in the bay.

"Thank you so much for taking me here!" Alvin said as he hugged his uncle tightly. "Its so fun to be on this adventure with you!"

"Heh, you can write about your summer in sixth grade!" smiled Joey.

"I know! I can't wait to tell Spencer and Jordan about our adventure!" grinned Alvin. "I got the best uncle in the world! And that's why I love you!"

Joey chuckled and embraced Alvin as they stood with the wind against their back. "You're the best nephew anyone could have. And I'm honored to take care of you. That's why I love you to death Alvin."

"You're the closest thing I have to a real father..." Alvin said with more of a frown. "Because my mom and dad never loved me..."

"Aww Alvin..." frowned Joey. "Not everyone is blessed with perfect parents..."

"I know..." frowned Alvin as he hugged his uncle tightly. "That's why I have so much fun with you! Because we do stuff like father and son!"

"Heh, uncle and nephew time." chuckled Joey. "I love when you come along for flying..."

"I do too! Its fun and its quality bonding time!" grinned Alvin as his happiness returned.

The two Dobies stood at the rocky shore listening to the waves lap against the washed out gravel. There was barely any noise around them except for the frigid wind that blew from the north. Wildman Joe approached from behind, following their footsteps in the frozen tundra to check up on them.

"Hey I was wondering where you all went!" he said over the wind.

"I wanted to go see the ocean!" Alvin told him.

"Pretty desolate landscape eh?" Wildman chuckled.

"Yeah! But its cool!" Alvin giggled. "Wildman could you please take a photo of me and my uncle?"

"I don't see why I can't!" he exclaimed as Alvin handed him his uncle's expensive Nikon. Wildman fumbled with the camera's controls, having the slightest of clue in handling such a expensive camera. "What the heck! How do you run this contraption eh?"

Alvin giggled and ran over. "My Uncle Rob taught me how to use it!" Alvin showed him the basic controls before running back to pose with his uncle. They spread their arms out arched together with big smiles on their face as Wildman snapped a photograph of them. Alvin ran over and cheered at how nice it looked, capturing the spartan landscape perfectly.

"Well...we got the minor problem with a cowl flap fixed...so we're ready to depart back to Yellowknife." Wildman said to them. Taking one final look, they followed behind Wildman, walking back to the small airport not far away from them.

---

Payment time for the DC-7. Fully repaired, with a overhauled engine and new cowling, the soon to be former Wild Air Cargo plane sat on the tarmac, the perfect backdrop for the monetary exchange between Joe McKenna and Andrew Paulo. Alvin stood beside his grandpa, watching the exchange go on.

"Well I'm going to miss this old bird...but what the customers want...they're gonna get." Wildman told Andrew as the chubby Dobie got his checkbook out.

"Please make it painless..." Andrew sarcastically said, grimacing as he looked at a blank check.

"I'll tell you what...I REALLY enjoyed your little grandson. He's a blast to talk to!" Wildman complimented to a smiling Alvin. "I think he's gonna grow up and do something great with his life...and I hope you do little man!"

"Thanks!" grinned Alvin.

"I'll make you a deal Andrew...you can have the plane for four-hundred thousand...instead of eight hundred K....because I like all of you."

"Sounds good to me!" Andrew exclaimed as he began writing out a check to pay for the plane.

"Plus I want to give you this Alvin!" Wildman said as he reached over to pick up a green and blue sweater off the hood of his truck, with the logo of his company on it.

"Thanks!" Alvin exclaimed, getting a matching winter cap to go with it.

"You're gonna do great kid." Wildman complimented. Alvin eagerly shoved the sweater and cap into his backpack that contained a pickle jar filled with the beige soil and rocks from the tundra up north.

"Okay...that should do it..." Andrew said, signing his name and peeling the check out. Wildman grasped it, but found Andrew's grip not releasing. After a few tugs, he got the check, seeing Andrew look sad that he was spending money.

"We own a DC-7 now!" exclaimed Alvin to his grandfather. "Isn't that cool!"

"Yeah...its quite nice." Andrew replied. "Well Alvin? Are we about ready?"

"Mhmm!" nodded Alvin.

Joey and his grandfather Jose stood inspecting their Varig L-1049H that was being fueled up. Wildman approached them, wanting to thank Joey for coming up and doing business with him.

"I would love to have everyone come again and visit!" the wolf said to Joey who smiled.

"Oh I'm sure I'll be probably buying another DC-7 and my mate would probably want one too!" chuckled Joey.

"I'd love to see them be well taken care of and flown! Not relegated to some museum piece!" Wildman said. "You all have a safe flight back in your Connie!"

"Thanks!" Jose told Wildman as they shook paws.

Wildman walked back to his truck as Jose turned to look at Joey. "Well grandson? You did it!"

"I guess I did huh?" smiled Joey in return. "Mini adventure."

Wildman's flight crew got the DC-7C ready, her engines turning over slowly in clouds of copious smoke. Joey and Jose started the Connie up with each engine firing up in a row, filling the tarmac with the deep rumble of "round engines".

Wildman Joe and his wife stood and waved goodbye to their guests, watching as the fire trucks turned their nozzles on to spray the retirement arch over the DC-7 departing Yellowknife for the last time. Both propliners rumbled down the access road and turned onto the tarmac, with the DC-7 taking off first. It climbed away smoothly and turned to head south for Ohio, Joey and his grandfather getting the Connie onto the runway for immediate takeoff. All four engines put out twelve thousand horsepower, propelling them skyward for the long flight ahead back to Ohio after a successful weekend in Yellowknife.

Queen Vanessa formed up with the DC-7 for the thirteen hour flight back to Ohio, crossing back down through Saskatchewan, Manitoba, Minnesota, Wisconsin, crossing over Lake Michigan, Indiana, and finally reaching Ohio by sundown.

---

One Week Later

"How long is this photo shoot going to be Joey!? Its costing me money!" balked Andrew inside the cockpit. Joey rolled his eyes and chuckled, quipping "oh calm down Dad. This is marketing! This is how you make more money."

The evening sky was ablaze with orange and red skies from the evening sun. It mixed beautifully with the wispy white clouds, forming the perfect backdrop for a photo shoot with the L-1049 and DC-7. Both planes flew in tight formation, rumbling over the shores of Lake Erie in northern Ohio at eight thousand feet. Flying over the tops of the thin clouds, the propellers chopped at the misty wisps, churning them up in their wake. The Connie lead the formation, with the DC-7 slightly behind and to the left. Formerly white, with blue and green stripes, the Douglas was stripped of the old Wild Air Cargo scheme. Stripped to her bare metal skin, she was polished and repainted in Alvin's "Black Lightning" scheme, the black and dayglo orange lightning bolt cheat and cowling scallop design replacing the old scheme.

Nearly four hundred above and slightly head rumbled a C-130A, owned by Joey's neighbor Connor McDouglas, who was also Rob's ex boyfriend from years before. The bare metal Lockheed flew with the cargo loading ramp opened, where Xan Radabaugh stood taking photos secured at the edge of the loading ramp. Beside him was Marcus Barion, the white and gray Swedish husky hunched over a very expensive camera shooting video of the two propliners in formation.

"Aye Joey!" Connor's voice burst through his headset. "We're going to descend and come along side to gather some side angles."

"Copy that Connor."

The C-130 pulled to the right and descended slowly, the Arctic marked turboprop pulling up to their right.

"Just hold it right there!" Xan commanded over the radio.

The three planes flew in formation for a while until the sun finally slipped behind the clouds, ending their golden hour of photography. Xan and Marcus both radioed their satisfaction of their shots, concluding the photo shoot. The C-130, DC-7, and L-1049 turned to head back to Newark-Heath, flying in a triangular formation with the C-130 leading the path.

"Once you get your typing rating Joey...I want to fly along with you in the DC-7." Jose said to his grandson. "I've never had a chance to fly that plane...and I want to say I got to fly her at least once before I die!"

"Oh it will be done." smiled Joey. "Its...been a real honor for you to help me."

"Oh that's what Grandpas are for!" the old Dobie smiled.

"I want to see the footage when its all done!" grinned Alvin.

"Our first commercial....it will be-" Joey was suddenly interrupted feeling the whole Connie buck, along with the sound of a thud. It started Joey for a moment as he searched around, Felix inspecting the flight engineer panel just as Joey heard the "ow" from his father. His Dad returned, carrying a bag of popcorn in his grip as he stuffed a handful of the white flakes into his muzzle.

"I burned my hand on the popcorn bag and jumped back and slipped!" he exclaimed.

Joey turned around and looked at his Dad with a sarcastic expression, smacking his lips together loudly impersonating his father eating. "OM NOM, NOM Dad." He shook his head and turned to look at his grandpa Jose. "Dad is one of a kind."

"Heh, can't argue with that Joseph." chuckled Jose.

"Are you calling me fat?"

Joey was the last one to land after the C-130 and DC-7 came in first at Newark-Heath. With the sky nearly black, the Super Constellation roared across Route 79 belching brilliant blue flames from the engines, touching down smoothly on the centerline.

Under the lights of the tarmac, there was just enough light to capture a good shot of Joey taxiing in. Xan and Marcus stood shooting video and snapping photographs, capturing the sights and sounds of the propliner rumbling up to come to rest after a successful shoot. Once the engines shut down, Joey and everyone disembarked, Andrew balking still about fuel costs as Joey rolled his eyes walking down the airstair.

"I say that was a pretty uneventful photo shoot!" approached Connor, the ginger furred Irish wolf.

"Uneventful to me, a heart attack for my cheap ass dad." chuckled Joey who glanced over at his father.

"You know what my Dad says? You gotta spend money to make money!" Connor replied.

"Go tell him that!" Joey shook his head with a smile.

Walking over on the tarmac, Joey examined the DC-7, admiring her new paint scheme that shined under the bright floodlights. Joey named her "Clipper Jose Paulo" after his grandfather, retrospectively adding "Clipper" to his L-1049 "Alvin Paulo".

Returning his grandfather back to his retirement home in Columbus, Joey returned back home with Alvin for the night. Feeling tired and accomplished, he sat down in Rob's office. Having commandeered his mate's "command center", he sat for a moment to regain his composure after a busy day. Sitting on the desk was his growing list of customers in flying ammunition and gun parts. They were coming from all over the place; the east coast, west coast, south-west, the deep south; everyone seemed like they embraced the idea of dedicated firearms transportation that Joey was providing. It didn't require the extreme scrutiny that other carriers had because Joey and his father naturally knew the safety and risks of transporting weapons. But soon the DC-7C and L-1049H would be overwhelmed again, and Joey knew that he'd eventually will have to buy another of Wild Air's DC-7's to bring back to Ohio just to keep up with demand.

Joey logged into his Skype, finding that Rob was online. When they had last talked, Rob had just returned from Arizona, having helped his friend Mark restore a old Navy Super Connie to add to his friend's collection. He sent a request to connect via video, awaiting Rob's response. The video feed established, showing Rob sitting outside on his friend's fancy patio. Rob sat wearing his "Brasil" tanktop, making Joey smile at the sight.

"Hey Rob!" grinned the Doberman.

"Oh hey!" was the wolf-malamute's response, a smile erupting on his face at seeing his mate. "How are things back home?"

"Oh they're swell." smiled Joey. "Me and Alvin have been on quite a fun adventure."

"That's great. How's the WV-1 in hauling the ammunition for you?" asked Rob.

Joey fibbed about the plane, telling his mate about its efficiency in transporting his company ammunition to Nevada. He wanted to surprise Rob with the new aircraft purchase. It made him happy that Rob was back to his former self, even if that meant his usual cynicism of the world. Rob had left for Los Angeles as a completely broken down person, but though the gentle care of his friend nursed him back to his old self again.

"I can't wait for you to come and visit." Rob said to his mate. "You'd love it here."

"Oh I know I can't wait." chuckled Joey. "I haven't seen you fuzzy ass since May!"

"I know..." frowned Rob. "But circumstances went a bit out of my control."

"That's a understatement." grinned Joey. "But I'm so happy to see you back to normal."

"Heh, normal. Such a subjective term." chuckled Rob.

"Well normal as in the usual foul-mouthed, cynical wolfamute I know!" Joey laughed.

"You fucking believe it!" Rob exclaimed.

"Boy do I have a huge surprise for you when I come." smiled Joey.

"Oh?" Rob asked.

"Yeah! Can't wait to show you!" smirked Joey playfully. "It'll be nice."

"Can't wait to see!"

Rob and Joey talked a bit more before Joey called it a night. Yawning, he found Mark Prince online, clicking it to establish a connection with the elusive black wolf. The video established with Mark's husband Tanner Rodriguez sitting at the desk.

"Joey! Hey!" grinned the beige wolf. "How are things?"

"Oh they're good. I just got done chatting with Rob." Joey smiled. "I see you're not naked on camera this time!"

"I know! No more faux pas for me!" chuckled Tanner.

"So what are you and Mark up to? Where's Mark at?"

"Showering." Tanner replied. "What's up Joey?"

"Oh I was wondering if I could bring my entourage with me when I come up in a few days...and don't tell Rob about me bringing the new aircraft along!"

"I heard you got a DC-7." the wolf mentioned.

"Oh yes. Quite the adventure to get her!" Joey exclaimed just as he heard some voices in the background of Tanner's feed. It was Mark's deep voice, the black wolf emerging into the shot fully naked.

"Oh la-la~" chuckled Joey, seeing Mark turn around to realize the camera was running.

"Oh boy..." was Mark's response, just as Tanner burst out laughing.

"HAH!" Tanner laughed, his loud voice clipping in the microphone. "How does it feel to be on camera naked!?"

"I've done porn before...doesn't bother me...how are you doing Joey?" Mark said, unfazed.

"Fairly good...even better now." the Doberman teased.

"I do have that effect..." Mark chuckled.

"Joey's asking if he can bring family and friends along when he comes in a few days."

"Sure." was Mark's instant response. "Sounds good to me."

"I'll let everyone know..." Joey said, yawning. "I'm tired, I'm sorry for leaving early...but I wanted to just ask and make sure."

"We don't get guests often...so...bring them!" Mark and Tanner both agreed.

"Okay, I'll let em know! Good night!" Joey replied.

"Night!" both wolves exclaimed before the feed was cut.

---

"Okay, we're crossing into California." announced Jose. The old Doberman sat in the right hand seat with his grandson commanding the Connie on the long flight to California. At sixteen thousand feet, the desert of Nevada stretched all around as a Mars like landscape of sun dried reddish earth. Ahead and to the left of the L-1049 was "Clipper Jose", the DC-7 flying in formation commanded by Rob's friend Geert Apps. The two propliners droned westward for Los Angeles, cruising in the clear skies.

"Boy your partner is going to be excited when he sees this!" Jose said to Joey who smiled and chuckled.

"Oh, I can't wait to surprise Rob." Joey smiled contently.

"This has been quite a fun adventure." Jose added. "This sure beats playing chess!"

"Its been very fun Grandpa. You've really helped me tremendously. I don't know much about these aircraft, and people who used to fly them- your generation is fading away really fast...and taking their knowledge with them."

"However many years the almighty gives me...I plan on being around to help you out! Because...you're my favorite grandson!" smiled Jose. "Not your freeloading brother."

"Well...once you create perfect...its hard to surpass it." Joey grinned jokingly. "I'm totally not savoring the commentary about my incarcerated brother!"

Jose shook his head. "Oh well...at least I got you, and eccentric father and mother! And thank you so much for letting me fly these old birds again. Its been such a happy reunion!"

"Anything for you Grandpa. You're more than welcome to come along and fly on the Ammo Express whenever you want!"

"I want to fly that DC-7! Its been a unrealized goal!" Joey exclaimed.

"I have a feeling you'll be able to fly a bunch of old planes at the rate this new business venture is growing." Joey told his grandfather.

"This is making your father happy."

"Anything that makes money makes Dad happy. I wonder if he was Jewish in a past life..."

Both Joey and his Grandfather shared a laugh at the off-color joke. After a half hour more of flying, they had finally arrived at the Prince ranch. Baking around in a turn, Joey looked down at the brown land that was scored by the California drought. Mark's large home stood out as a red blip on the ground, with a winding driveway and a large pond. A very long runway was not too far away, their landing spot. Coming around and descending, Joey flew in low with the DC-7 now behind and to his left in formation. They flew in low, Joey seeing people swimming in the pond.

"Who wants to land first?" radioed Jake Barion, who sat in the right hand seat of the DC-7. "What's your fuel status over?"

"We'll go in first." Joey radioed back to his mate's twin brother.

"Gotcha Joey."

Dropping flaps and gear, the L-1049 descended in nose down for the grass runway that was brown from the drought. The descent was smooth and uneventful as the Connie touched down, kicking up dust on landing. The drag on the tires helped slow the Connie to a crawl, Joey shutting down the outboard engines to have the big Curtiss units windmill to a stop. At the far end of the runway, Joey saw his mate Rob standing with Mark and Tanner watching. They turned and parked the plane, Felix pulling the fuel mixture throttles to "cut" to shut down the inboards.

With a grin, Joey slid the cockpit window open and poked his body out to wave at his mate.

"Surprise Rob!" grinned Joey.

"You son of a bitch!" exclaimed Rob. "Where the fuck did you get this plane?!"

"I bought her!" the black and tan Doberman exclaimed.

Waiting for Mark to push the airstair up, Joey opened the hatch to have Alvin run down the steps first, running over to embrace his Uncle Rob tightly after not seeing him for two months.

"Uncle Rob! I missed you so much!" exclaimed Alvin. "Like Uncle Joey's new plane!"

"I do! I'm truly surprised!" smiled Rob to his nephew. The wolf-hybrid looked up to see Joey descend, casually dressed in his tanktop, gym shorts, and backwards baseball hat. Rob got up and ran over to embrace his Doberman, the two hugging and sharing a kiss after being apart for two months.

"I'm so happy to see you!" smiled Joey.

"Where the fuck did you get a Connie from?" asked Rob with a laugh.

"Oh!" laughed his Brazilian lover. "I bought her from a museum that had called asking if you wanted to buy her two months ago."

"Why didn't you tell me?" asked Rob.

"I didn't want to bog you down with all the gobbledygook going on back in Ohio since you need to relax! I also twisted Dad's arm and got the DC-7 to haul ammo along with this Connie!"

"You sly devil you." smiled Rob as he kissed his Doberman again. "God I love you."

"I love you too Rob." smiled Joey.

"Me too!" grinned Alvin as he hugged his uncles.

Rob turned to see the DC-7 taxi up, its outboard four blade propeller shut down as Jake Barion poked his head out waving at his twin brother.

"Hauling ammo I see?" chuckled Rob.

"Boy do I have an adventure to tell you." Joey smiled as he turned to see everyone else descend from the DC-7.

---

The stars were out at night in the clear skies overhead. Rob and Joey sat on the wing of the L-1049, looking up to gaze at the twinkling stars above.

"You've outdone yourself Joey." Rob squeezed his mate closer to him as Joey nuzzled his muzzle gently.

"Thanks." the Doberman smiled. "Its been well...quite a adventure."

"All over the US, Canada? I'd say yes." chuckled Rob. "But...we're together again...and that makes me even happier."

"Same." grinned Joey. "I missed my fuzzy lover. It just wasn't the same at night without you."

"Mhmm." nodded Rob. "I don't want to ever be that depressed ever again."

"I don't want to see you that broken as well." frowned Joey. "So it makes me so happy to see you back to your old self again."

"Eh...or least close enough." chuckled Rob.

Climbing up the ladder propped against the wing was Alvin, the energetic Dobie taking a spot between Rob and Joey.

"Look at all the stars!" smiled Alvin. "You don't get to see this many back in town!"

"That's because of light pollution." smiled Rob. "Isn't it beautiful! Our universe is such a wonderful thing."

"I know!" grinned Alvin. "I'm so happy to see you're better Uncle Rob!"

"I'm happy too. Were you a good Dobie for your uncle?" Rob asked.

"He was my great little co-pilot." Joey smiled.

"I know! I went all over with Uncle Joey and it was cool! I got to see the desert, tundra, I got to go to Canada!" Alvin exclaimed.

Rob and Joey shared a laugh with their nephew, the three of them looking up at the star filled sky, happy to be together again after such an adventure.