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"When once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return." ~Leonardo da Vinci_­_

Give Me Wings, and I Will Fly

Written By: Spudz

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Organized chaos... there was no better way to describe the sight.

A busy airport terminal was always a scene of utter commotion and disarray, awash in a mass of individuals walking about seemingly at random. From business travelers clad in expensive suits, to the typical leisure tourist dressed for warm tropical weather, each had a unique origin and destination, only sharing a commonality as airline passengers passing through the expanses of aircraft gates, food courts, and lounges.

To the outside observer, it was truly amazing how in this sea of pandemonium, travelers managed to reach connecting flights from their arriving gates, generally without any major difficulties. That wasn't to say, however, that the process of travelling through a major airport was a risk free venture.

There were layovers both short and long, cancelled or delayed flights, last minute gate changes, lost luggage, overbooked aircraft... the list went on and on, resulting in headaches for both passengers and airline staff alike. When airport operations were hindered in any way, whether from adverse weather or other outside factors, tempers usually flared.

The matter of angry passengers wasn't a direct concern for Captain Ayden Rhodes however. Nevertheless, whenever an otherwise typical travel day became mired in delays and ruined itineraries, there was always a sense that he was to blame, at least in some small way.

As a commercial airline pilot, it was Ayden's responsibility to ensure the safety and wellbeing of those that he flew, making sure that each and every single passenger made it to their destination. It was a profession that the Belgian shepherd took very seriously. The fate of many vacations and business plans rested squarely on his shoulders every time he took to the air. Failing in this obligation was just not acceptable, although sometimes matters were out of his hands.

Thankfully, the skies on that particular early February afternoon couldn't have been more pristine, promising no delays for the hundreds of flights scheduled to depart Atlanta Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport throughout what remained of the afternoon and evening to come.

Yes... today was indeed a beautiful day to fly.

At the moment, Ayden found himself sitting comfortably at a restaurant table, his gaze fixated on the massive window nearby. Leaning back slightly in his seat, the shepherd's auburn eyes swept across the broad expanse of open sky, catching just the faintest puff of a wispy cloud here and there. It was a view that he enjoyed on a regular basis, as the malinois always preferred to indulge in a filling meal before embarking on a flight.

The Chili's Grill and Bar restaurant of Concourse A was your typical family style venue, offering a sit-down meal that was worlds better than the food court options nearby. A passenger could wander in and have a snack to pass the time of a layover, or just enjoy the taste of a simple beer at the bar. Ayden, himself, usually enjoyed his lunch here while he waited for a flight, although his presence was often met with many raised eyebrows and second looks.

Standing at a respectable six foot, three inches, Captain Rhodes was an athletic Belgian shepherd of quite an imposing stature to begin with. Adding to that poise, he currently wore his customary pilot's uniform, which consisted of a professional dark blue suit adorned with several brass fastens down the front, a series of golden stripes wrapped around the wrist sleeves of either arm, and a crisply pressed matching color tie. His professional dress was further complemented by a small brass nametag across the left breast displaying the malinois's title of captain prominently, while a matching set of wings was found just above in the form of the Delta Air Line's widget.

Completing the ensemble was a dark blue pilot's hat, embellished with a similarly styled brass emblem of the airline's widget across the front. From a frontal perspective, the black fur of Ayden's face and pointy ears, which poked up through accommodating holes of said hat, seemed to blend in almost fully with his dark uniform, allowing the shepherd's perceptive brown eyes to stand out notably. Across the rest of his body, his striking mahogany fur was lost beneath the suit's covering, save for the malinois's elegant tail that curled upward slightly as it hung down behind his chair.

The notion that he stood out amongst the other patrons never really bothered Ayden. He always came to the restaurant for the stellar view of the surrounding airport, as well as the appetizing food. The empty plate sitting atop the table, which had once contained a delicious toasted turkey sandwich, was testament to that fact.

Now with his lunch all but a memory, the malinois let his mind wander while he sipped a cup of coffee. The folded newspaper resting next to his empty plate was mostly ignored; he only kept it on the table to give the appearance that he was engrossed in the day's events. What really held the captain's attention was the activity unfolding below outside his viewpoint.

With the restaurant situated high above the tarmac, the Belgian shepherd was afforded a largely unobstructed view of the activity that went on all around the parked aircraft below. Like a swarm of ants, airport vehicles moved to and fro across the concrete surrounding the terminal, each with a singular task to perform. Luggage carts, catering trucks, pushback tugs, lavatory vehicles... the scene was just fascinating to watch. Add to the mayhem, active turbofan engines and moving aircraft, and it was a wonder that no serious accidents occurred on a daily basis.

Ayden could never give enough credit to the hardworking furs out there on that dangerous tarmac. Without their dedicated support, the numerous aircraft he piloted would just sit uselessly at the gate. They were the true heroes of the airline.

The shepherd's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by movement out of the corner of his eye, drawing his gaze back into the restaurant to find that a pot of coffee had materialized next to his table.

"Care for a refill, Ayden?" a feminine voice asked politely.

The coffee pot was held by a rather attractive greyhound, who regarded Captain Rhodes with a warm smile. She wore a traditional pair of matching khaki pants and dress shirt that identified her as a waitress for the restaurant, the clothing contrasting significantly with her brindle fur. Boasting a slender and agile physique, it was obvious to the casual observer that the greyhound was an avid runner.

Ayden returned the waitress's smile. "Why, I would love one," he replied, giving her a slight nod of the head. As she happily poured him another cup of fresh coffee, the Belgian shepherd regarded her with a thoughtful look. "So, Caroline... how goes the studies?"

"Fairly well, actually," the greyhound answered, now finished with topping off his drink. She quickly gave the restaurant a sweep of her eyes, noting that her other table didn't need any service at that very moment, and moved to take possession of the chair opposite him, setting the coffee pot onto the table and promptly forgetting about it. "Thanks for the help with that troublesome assignment last week."

Ayden waved a hand dismissively. "It's no problem. You know I'm always happy to help when I can."

It had been just over a year since Captain Rhodes had met Caroline, and ever since he had come to enjoy her company immensely.

Back then, that day had been a miserable one to say the least, with massive storms blanketing the region all throughout the afternoon. As a result, Ayden's flight had been cancelled before he could even get off the ground, leaving the malinois in a dismal state of mind.

Deciding he needed to eat, the shepherd had eventually wandered into the restaurant, where he had first met Caroline. The two of them had subsequently hit it off, as the greyhound's affability helped to cheer him up. They had ended up watching the rain fall outside the very window he now sat before, and talked about all manner of things. Since then, both had become the closest of friends.

At nineteen years of age, Caroline was currently working her way through college, in the hopes of becoming an accountant someday. Over the past year, Ayden had helped her here and there with her studies, tutoring her when he had the time between flights, sometimes even meeting with the greyhound at a local coffee shop late at night.

She was almost like a daughter to the Belgian shepherd; although, perhaps that wasn't quite the best way to describe their friendship. Caroline was, after all, only sixteen years his junior. Thinking of her in such a light made him feel much older than he really was.

The notion caused Ayden to inwardly cringe. Thirty-five certainly wasn't that old... was it?

"So Mr. Shepherd... where are we going today?" The greyhound's inquiry was met with a moment's pause from Ayden.

"Ah... just a quick trip up to Philly today," the pilot replied, reaching down to his overnight suitcase that was butted up against the leg of his chair. After some fumbling about within one of the open zippers, the malinois produced a three ring binder containing all of the flight information he needed for the day.

"Let's see here," he went on, thumbing through several pages of printed paper, before settling on an assignment overview sheet marked by a small tab. "Ah... yes, the roundtrip up to Philly, followed by an overnight rotation through Kansas City."

"Will you be back in time for dinner?"

Some more flipping through pages. "My return flight leaves Philadelphia at 3:35pm... with an expected arrival into Atlanta at 5:39pm... barring any delays, I should be."

The greyhound's expression brightened up. "That is good to hear. I don't like it when you miss a meal in the air."

Ayden simply shook his head at her words and took a sip of his coffee; black and strong, just the way he liked it.

"I've always wanted to try a real Philly cheesesteak," Caroline continued, resting her cheek in a hand with elbow propped on the table surface. "Sure, I can have one wherever I like, but I understand nothing beats the genuine article."

Captain Rhodes uttered a short chuckle. "I'd bring one back for you if it wouldn't get all soggy on the trip over."

"Now there's a thought," the greyhound mused with a grin. "An old, wet Philly cheesesteak. I can already feel my mouth watering."

They both shared in a hearty laugh, before Caroline suddenly decided to tweak Ayden's tail. "So... how is the love life?"

His smile suddenly evaporated. "You asked me that two days ago."

"I'm asking again."

Caroline knew the topic was a touchy one for the Belgian shepherd. As long as she had known him, he had held fast to his single status. Not once had he gone on a date, or even expressed an interest in pursuing a relationship over the past year. Sure, the shepherd had a close group of friends between her and the pilots he flew with, but that just wasn't enough. Although he would never admit it, he really needed a mate to love and depend on.

Ayden uttered a weary sigh. "I don't have time for that with my job."

"Yes you do," the greyhound countered. "You just have to go out there and look for that perfect someone."

"No one would want to be with me. I travel around the country too much."

"Ayden..." Caroline's tone was reproachful. "You're not giving yourself enough credit."

The shepherd brought a hand up to toy with his whiskers fretfully, showing his anxiety. "I just... I don't know," he finally stammered. "I just never considered a relationship to be one of my priorities."

The greyhound's countenance softened. "But you really should."

"I always enjoy hanging out with my friends, you included. Doesn't that count for something?" His imploring gaze pleaded with her to drop the subject.

The greyhound studied him for a moment. "Yes... to a degree. However, I think I know you well enough to say you really could use the comfort of a mate. You should at least try, before the opportunity passes you by."

Ayden winced visibly at her words. Now he really did feel old.

At his hurt look, Caroline decided she had pushed him too much. "Just promise me you'll at least consider my suggestion."

The Belgian shepherd's pointy ears splayed back as she gave him an encouraging smile. She was absolutely right of course. The greyhound may have been much younger than him, yet she had a good head on her shoulders, and always knew just what to say. Ayden had to respect her for that.

"Alright... you have my word," he finally said, returning her smile with a reassuring one of his own.

Caroline moved to stand alongside the table. "I'll hold you to it. When you get back from Philly, we're going to sit down and figure out how to get you a date."

Before Ayden could form a reply, the greyhound moved off with a wink and a grin, leaving him sitting there with muzzle half ajar.

She always got the upper hand over him...

Recovering his composure somewhat, Ayden returned his attention to the commotion outside the window to let his thoughts wander once more. For now, he could put that troublesome part of his life out of mind. Besides, he had gotten off just fine on his own up until now... hadn't he?

Roughly thirty minutes later, the malinois's coffee cup stood empty on the table, as he thumbed through his wallet for the appropriate amount of money to cover the bill. Making sure to leave a generous tip, the captain then stood with a lengthy stretch to loosen stiff muscles, before saying goodbye to Caroline.

The greyhound gave Ayden a wave in reply while he made his way out into the spacious terminal of Concourse A. However, her sudden devious smile just before disappearing out of sight hinted that she would not be dropping the subject of his love life when he returned later in the evening, eliciting an exasperated sigh from the pilot.

Ayden frowned on the ensuing escalator ride down to the terminal.

Why did Caroline have to be right all the time?

The frustrating thought was abruptly lost when he stepped onto the main floor of the concourse. Every which way the Belgian shepherd looked, masses of furs moved about the vast open space in droves, many carrying rolling suitcases in their wake not unlike his own bag. The diversity of individuals traversing the concourse never ceased to amaze Ayden. Atlanta International Airport truly was one of the major airline gateways to the world.

For a moment, the malinois paused and let his eyes sweep across the terminal expanse. Immediately he found a family of three akitas making their way toward an escalator. With mother and father walking to his either side, a young pup made sure to hold their hands while his eyes roamed about in wonder. It wasn't hard to guess where they had come from; the Disney World T-shirts were a dead giveaway.

Following in the family's wake was a middle-aged golden retriever dressed in a crisp suit and tie, who walked with an air of haste. As Ayden looked on, he deftly picked his way through the throngs of furs moving about, taking care not to hit anyone with the expensive suitcase he carted. The shepherd had to admire the fur's skill, since a cellphone remained glued to his floppy ear as he hurriedly made his way about, caught up in the middle of a heated conversation all the while.

A commotion over the din of countless conversations abruptly caught the Belgian shepherd's attention. His ears quickly swiveled about toward the sound of... applause?

Turning his gaze, Ayden's momentary confusion was quickly forgotten as he came to witness a sight he had seen numerous times over the past few years of his piloting career, and one he always enjoyed.

While the malinois looked on, the mass of furs moving about the terminal suddenly parted, giving way to several individuals clad in camouflage fatigues. Everywhere travelers stopped in their tracks to let the servicemen through. It was a phenomenon that Ayden loved to witness, watching everyone give their thanks with an appreciative round of applause for those who took up arms for their country. As a veteran of the second Gulf War himself, he had nothing but admiration for what they had sacrificed.

After a few moments, the military personnel disappeared from Ayden's view, the clapping fading with them. And just that abruptly, the concourse space was once more awash in chaos. There was never a dull moment...

Ayden, himself, wasted no more time and moved to meld into the throng of shifting passengers. The shepherd's plane was scheduled to leave out of Gate A6, requiring a somewhat long walk down the terminal building. It was always amazing how long it took to simply cross from one end of the concourse to the other.

His destination was a rather unassuming location near the end of the massive building, containing only a simple desk with built-in computer for an airline agent's use, while rows of cushioned seats lined the carpeted space nearby. Against the wall, an electronic display gave the information of the next departing flight in large red lettering.

"DL 1283 DEPARTS 12:15 PHILLADELPHIA, PA"

Good... he was at the right gate, and, upon glancing at his watch, had plenty of time to perform all the required preflight tasks before departure. Now though, he just needed the aircraft to arrive on time.

Occasionally, the airline changed arrival locations for various flights at the last minute, given the dynamic nature of the company's flying schedule. For Ayden, this usually resulted in his assigned plane being parked on the exact opposite side of the airport from where he had originally been told, necessitating an annoyingly long walk. This was a problem unique to Atlanta, as Delta utilized all six of the airport's massive concourses. However, with airport operations running almost perfectly smooth, there was little risk of such a misfortune occurring today.

Ayden's timely arrival at Gate A6 drew the notice of the attending gate agent, causing the malamute to look up from her computer screen.

"Ah, greetings Captain Rhodes," she spoke in a charming southern drawl, upon catching sight of his nameplate. There was quite a cheerful energy about her, which he had to admire. Gate agents had one of the worst jobs in the airline. "Quite a nice day to fly isn't it?"

The Belgian shepherd gave a tip of his hat to her greeting. "I couldn't agree more. It's pretty rare this time of year for such a nice day of flying."

The agent fixed him with an envious look. "You pilots have all the fun."

"And we never could without hardworking gate agents like you," Ayden replied without missing a beat. His warm smile was mirrored by her own.

"Aw... It's always nice to hear something nice like that." The malamute rubbed a hand through her head fur. "I've never heard a pilot admit such a thing."

"Well, you guys take a lot of flak for the airline."

His words brought a brief grimace across her expression. "You're tell'in me, hun."

"At least, things are flowing smoothly today," Ayden continued. The pilot's expression became inquisitive. "There haven't been any problems, I hope?"

There was an undertone of surprise in the malamute's reply. "You couldn't ask for better airport conditions. I haven't seen a single delay on my screen for over an hour now."

The relief was quite evident for Ayden. "I hope that good luck holds." His attention briefly turned toward the nearby window. "How is my arriving flight looking?"

The agent took a quick glance at her computer screen. "Actually, it has already landed. Should be at the gate any moment."

"Good to hear." The malinois let his eyes wander momentarily over the rows of seats near the gate, observing that a handful of passengers were already waiting for his flight. "I hope we're not overbooked."

Again a glance down at the computer screen. "Actually, there are a few seats still available." She paused to type in some information, her brow furrowing in thought. "Although, the earlier flight to Philly had too many standbys. I reckon those empty seats will be filled mighty quick." Ayden's worried look didn't faze the malamute. "Don't worry, hun," she added confidently. "I'll make sure everyone gets to Philly without a hitch."

"Thanks Angela," the shepherd replied with a courteous smile, after taking a quick glance at the plastic nametag hanging from the lanyard around her neck. "I never like to leave a passenger behind."

"You and me both, hun."

Ayden decided to amble over toward the window, allowing the gate agent to resume her work on the desk computer to the tune of manicured nails clicking away against the plastic keyboard. As luck would have it, when the malinois took a glance out onto the tarmac, his plane was just pulling into the gate right on schedule.

At thirty-five years of age, the Belgian shepherd was relatively new to the commercial airline profession. Although Ayden had been flying since he was seventeen, the malinois was only hired by Delta just over three years ago. He had been extremely lucky to skip the regional airline quagmire altogether, as the shepherd's ten years of service with the Air Force had given him enough flight time to enter the big leagues.

Ayden certainly wouldn't have minded flying smaller regional aircraft as a start to his commercial career. While the hours were longer, the pay much lower, and the number of flights in a given day higher, it was still flying, a passion he had fallen in love with since first taking the controls of a single engine Cessna. Many pilots would gladly work for free if they had the means to support their livelihood already, and the Belgian shepherd was no exception to that fact.

As luck would have it, Ayden had been hired on as an entry level first officer for the airline's short haul mainline fleet, flying roundtrip schedules between his home base of Atlanta and various cities across the east coast and country's heartland. Subsequently, it had only taken the malinois just over two years to advance to a captain's position for the very aircraft he had started out on, the humble McDonnell Douglas MD-88.

The MD-88 was by no means the poster child aircraft of the airline. Standing at a length of one hundred forty-seven feet, she was a moderately sized airliner within the Delta fleet, used primarily for short haul, medium density routes that required larger aircraft than the regional puddle jumpers and prop jobs.

Also known as the Mad Dog, the aircraft had a rather unique appearance, with the horizontal stabilizer attached above the vertical stab in what was commonly called a T-tail configuration. Further adding to the distinctive exterior was the mounting of the engines directly to the aft fuselage of the plane, as opposed to under the wing like many other designs prevalent in the industry.

There was no notability within the airline for pilots who flew the MD-88. At best, the aircraft was characterized as the underappreciated workhorse of the fleet, shuffling passengers about the country on short haul flights with all the extravagance of a city bus; while the bigger, more elegant birds whisked travelers off to far more exotic destinations in style.

The lack of amenities didn't bother Ayden at all; he still loved the Mad Dog all the same. The passengers didn't seem to mind either, since more often than not the flights aboard the aircraft were short enough to make the issue only a minor one at that. The trip to Philly was one such typical route, taking only two hours from gate to gate.

As the malinois looked on, the aircraft slowly eased into the gate berth, before coming to a gradual stop with the forward door lined up so the ground crew could connect the jetway. Even before the engines powered down, a swarm of tarmac personnel descended upon the airframe, intent on turning the aircraft around quickly for its next departure in less than an hour. Quite a number of tasks had to be carried out in that short timeframe, from removing the previous flight's luggage, to other less desirable chores such as draining the lavatory waste.

The tarmac personnel went about their duties with practiced ease. Not long after the engines were shut off, the jetway was properly mated to the aircraft door, allowing passengers to disembark on the way to their next connecting flight.

With overnight bag propped at his side, the Belgian shepherd watched the procession of disembarking furs file by where he stood, some more in a hurry than others. It wasn't long after the last passenger disappeared into the massive crowd of the terminal when he noticed the previous flight's pilots making their way up the jetway, dragging similar carry-on bags to his own behind them.

The first, a golden retriever only a few years Ayden's senior, flashed a look of recognition as he crossed over into the concourse. Jim Gooding was a close friend of the shepherd, having been one of the first captains he had flown with regularly. He had quite the wicked sense of humor, and was known for his charismatic charm that was synonymous with the qualities of a former fighter pilot. There was never a missed chance for Jim to tell enthralling stories of his past exploits as an F-15 driver, especially over a beer.

Ayden didn't recognize the coyote that trailed in the captain's wake. At first glance, he was young, perhaps just starting out as a first officer. There was a certain air of inexperience that radiated from the fur, which he had seen in himself several years ago.

Jim gave Ayden a cheeky smile as he came to a stop just before the malinois. "Hey Belly! You here to take this aircraft off my hands?"

Ayden could see the coyote, whose nameplate read "First Officer Briggs," raise an eyebrow at the odd greeting.

"This goof likes to use my old fighter callsign," the malinois said, answering the younger pilot's unspoken question.

"I can't miss a chance to rub his fur the wrong way in front of a new colleague," Jim continued, giving the Belgian shepherd a wily grin. He turned to the coyote. "This shmuck managed to land his crippled A-10 on its belly during his flight training... and from then on the callsign stuck."

"This can go both ways, Digger," Ayden countered, causing the retriever's grin to disappear.

"Oh... you have to tell me how he got that one," the coyote spoke with interest to Ayden, observing how Jim suddenly looked rather uncomfortable.

"At least I got my callsign by doing something admirable. Jim here was caught pulling his boxers out of his ass in a briefing room... and thus, Digger was born."

The coyote's laugh was incredulous. "Are you serious?"

Captain Gooding hid his face in a hand. "Unfortunately, he is."

"And when a pilot gets his callsign, it's his for the rest of his career," Ayden added, enjoying the retriever's embarrassment.

Jim, for his part, still took the friendly ribbing in stride. "You can bet money I'll never do such a thing in public again. It certainly knocked my ego down a few pegs back then."

"A little humility never hurts anyone."

Captain Gooding scoffed at the malinois's words, yet offered him a grin. "I suppose you're right." He took a glance back toward the flight departure information above the agent desk. "Ya head'in to Philly?"

"Yep, just a short roundtrip," Ayden replied with a slight nod.

"Who you flying with?"

The shepherd gave a shrug of his shoulders. "Originally Dan was my scheduled copilot. But he called in sick this morning... so I'm not sure."

The golden retriever looked back in the general direction of the aircraft parked at the gate. "Definitely best he decided to stay home. Nothing worse than being stuck in the cockpit with a sick pilot for several hours."

"Without a doubt."

Ayden followed Jim's gaze out toward the tarmac in the momentary silence that followed, bringing his thoughts back to the upcoming flight. "So... any problems with the plane?"

The retriever blinked deliberately as his expression grew thoughtful. "Not that I'm aware of. The only thing worth mentioning is that Number One spooled quicker than Two on takeoff. Although, it's nothing a little rudder won't correct. Aside from that, she'll fly perfectly for you."

"Good to hear."

After paperwork was exchanged between flight crews, the two pilots disappeared from Ayden's view into the sea of moving travelers with a friendly wave, destined for Concourse B and another MD-88 scheduled for departure to Chicago, but not before they had made a promise to catch up over a beer on the coming weekend.

In the meantime, the malinois wasted no time turning to make his way down the jetway toward his own waiting aircraft. There were quite a number of tasks he had to complete before the plane could push back for the runway. Yet, before Ayden made his way into the aircraft, there was one important obligation he had to complete outside.

Pausing near the end of the long walkway next to the open aircraft door, the Belgian shepherd carefully placed his carry-on bag up against the wall, and then proceeded out a side access door of the jet bridge.

Immediately, a rush of cool crisp air greeted Ayden when he stepped out into the cloudless February afternoon day. The sudden assault of deafening noise from the multitude of operating jet engines was painful to his sensitive ears, yet was easily remedied by a set of earplugs that he produced from a suit pocket of his uniform. It always helped to be prepared.

The task at hand was that of the preflight visual inspection, requiring that a pilot literally walk around his aircraft to ensure all mechanical and structural components appeared shipshape; essentially he was making sure that a wing hadn't fallen off, or an engine wasn't missing.

The procedure was purely for peace of mind on part of the pilot, although it did find problems from time to time before a flight left the gate. The fuel leak that Ayden had discovered on one particular walk around nine months ago was proof of that very fact.

To start things off, the shepherd always made a point to kick the nose gear tires with his paw. The act was entirely for his amusement; kicking the tires was a common expression used by pilots when performing a walk around. It always got a few laughs from the tarmac crew.

Beginning his inspection in earnest, the malinois ran a hand along the smooth paint of the fuselage. This particular aircraft had seen four separate paint jobs over the course of its operation with Delta, culminating with the white airframe, blue underbelly, and distinctive airline symbols across the tail and forward doors that was the current livery. She may have been getting up there in age, yet the Mad Dog still looked as sharp as ever.

All around Ayden, the ground crew went about their business with practiced efficiency. By now, the cargo hold was empty of all baggage, while carts sat nearby with the next flight's complement ready to be loaded. Meanwhile, a refueling hose was connected under the wing to replenish the plane's tanks. A refreshment truck was also busy restocking the drink and snack inventories for the upcoming flight's meal service.

Down the airframe he walked, checking for fuselage cracks, missing rivets, anything that was simply out of the norm. Out, around, and under the wing, back toward the tail and engines, and finally forward once more to repeat the same path on the opposite side. The entire inspection only took a few minutes to complete. Aside from being a little dirty, the aircraft appeared to be in near perfect condition.

With the visual inspection complete, Ayden made sure to take a moment and verify with the fueling and baggage personnel that the plane was being loaded properly. The shepherd then quickly retraced his steps back up into the jetway to finally enter the MD-88, after he took possession of his overnight bag once more. It was nice to get away from the overwhelming noise intensity prevalent outside. He had no idea how anyone could stand such a working environment day in and day out.

The observation that always struck Ayden first as he stepped aboard an aircraft was of all things the smell. It was wholly unique to airliners, yet he could never figure out an adequate way to describe the odor. There wasn't an unpleasantness to it... more like a comforting familiarity, which instilled a brief rush of excitement in the malinois.

Not wasting any time, the captain quickly moved to stow his overnight bag in the forward most overhead luggage bin, and then turned his attention to the aircraft cabin.

The cabin crew for an MD-88 flight typically consisted of three stewards or stewardesses. One was assigned to the first class section, while the other two tended to coach. Already, the crew complement was aboard, each currently combing their way through the rows of seats in search of trash or lost belongings from the previous flight.

Ayden immediately recognized the Irish setter closest to him as a head stewardess he had flown with numerous times. Mary was a hardworking employee of the airline already well into her middle years. Her uniform, which resembled his pilot's attire in color and style, was always crisp and pressed to give off a professional air. Patient, caring, but not without a sense of authority when the situation demanded it, the setter was nothing less than the perfect cabin stewardess. Her demeanor was always cheery and upbeat no matter how bad the flying got.

Alongside the Irish setter was another stewardess Captain Rhodes recognized. Like Mary, April was a hardworking crew member that Ayden couldn't help but admire. No older than him, the German shepherd was relatively new to the industry, but nonetheless well versed in the trade thanks largely to Mary's guidance. Her jaunty disposition was just as uplifting as her older counterpart; together the two stewardesses made a stellar flight team.

The third crew member, a steward Ayden didn't recognize, gave him pause. The Labrador was of middle age, at best in his early forties. Wearing a similarly styled uniform to his female counterparts, his appearance was both professional and stylish. Yet, there was just something... wrong about him to the malinois's observation. He moved about the cabin without the same exuberance as the other attendants, almost sulking while he systematically picked his way from seat to seat.

Unfortunately, Ayden had seen this bleaker side of the airline profession all too often. The industry, as a whole, was suffering through some tough financial times, forcing employees to bear the brunt of several pay cuts and benefit losses. Being new to the airline himself, the shepherd had not suffered through this troubling time, instead hiring on at a relatively low pay rate to start. However, the pay scale of pilots was by no means a fair comparison to that of ground handlers and cabin crew. Their hardships had been far worse than anything a pilot could complain about.

Some employees had become burned out as a result, only going through the motions of their job just to earn that paycheck at the end of the day. It always pained Ayden to see a cabin steward or stewardess struggle with their job. However, there wasn't much he could do to help, besides offer his assistance whenever he could. Lending a hand to clean the airplane before a flight was one way the shepherd usually tried to do just that.

Mary was the first to notice Ayden's presence aboard the aircraft as she discarded an empty water bottle into a nearby trash bag.

"G'day, Ayden," the Irish setter spoke in her usual cheery demeanor, giving the captain a warm familiar smile.

The shepherd returned her smile with one of his own. "Hi Mary. How's the day been treat'in ya?"

"As good as any... couldn't ask for a better day to fly. It was rather uneventful this morning."

"How many flights have you had so far?"

The setter moved to stand upright alongside a seat and placed a hand atop the backrest. "We've had two trips so far. We started off in Pensacola after an overnight. Went through Baltimore yet again after that."

"You seem to pass through there quite often," the captain remarked with a smile.

"I feel like I live there now. I must visit that airport at least four times a week."

Ayden uttered an amused chuckle. "Maybe you should rent an apartment?"

His suggestion was met with a blunt refusal. "Oh heavens no. The city is nice... but I will never live there. Too far north for my liking."

"Understandable. I wouldn't want to be that close to D.C. anyway. I hear the traffic puts Atlanta's to shame."

Mary leaned over to pluck a snack wrapper out of a nearby seat pocket. "I can only just stand Atlanta myself," she went on, shaking her head.

Ayden watched as the flight attendant disposed of the refuse in a garbage bag. "Mind if I help with that?" he asked, motioning to the bag resting at the setter's paws.

At Mary's appreciative nod of the head, he moved to the first row of first class, intent on checking for garbage, as well as to ensure that the seat belts weren't damaged or unusable in any way. After all, it was the pilot's obligation to ensure all safety equipment functioned aboard his or her plane.

It was only fifteen minutes later when the entire aircraft was devoid of all trash. Between the four crew members, they had managed to fill three bags completely... airline passengers were typically a messy lot, and the previous flight had been no exception to that fact.

"So... Ayden," Mary spoke, once they were all gathered in the forward galley, after having handed the garbage off to the waiting ground handler at the door. "You our pilot for this flight to Philly?"

The malinois shook his head. "Nope... I just felt like coming aboard to help clean the plane on a whim."

"You've always been a little wise ass," April replied, joining the conversation with a feigned look of disapproval.

"Oh come on. She set me up for that."

The setter was unfazed as she merely grinned. "Who is our first officer today?"

Ayden shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. I hope someone shows up soon, else we're not going anywhere."

As the captain and stewardesses went on to cover their preflight briefing, Ayden noticed that their fourth crew member elected to remain off to the side. The Labrador's gaze was empty as he stood there, leaving the captain to wonder if something might have been wrong.

Mary took notice of the shepherd's wandering gaze. "Ah... where are my manners?" She motioned toward the nearby steward, serving to snap him out of his seemingly dismal thoughts. "This is Allan. He just joined our crew yesterday."

Ayden extended a hand out toward the Labrador, who hesitated a moment before accepting his greeting. "Glad to have you aboard."

Allan's eyes wavered, appearing to search for words. "Thank you... Captain Rhodes."

The Labrador's hollow reply took Ayden aback; there was absolutely no energy to his words. While the steward did his best to put on a happy countenance, it was painfully easy to see right through the veil. For a moment, the captain considered asking if he was feeling alright... but then thought better of it. The fur was obviously having a bad day. It was best not to aggravate matters further.

Ayden realized he couldn't delay much longer, and swept his gaze briefly over the entirety of the aircraft cabin, before settling on Mary and April once more. "Would you mind if I went up to the flight deck?"

Both Irish setter and German shepherd gave him a smug look in response. "I don't think we're going anywhere unless you do," April teased.

"Point taken."

Ayden gave the cabin crew a tip of his hat, and turned toward the front of the plane. Yet, he was stopped short moments later by a gentle hand grasping his forearm. The shepherd was surprised to find April at his side. Her expression had suddenly taken on a worried look.

"I'm concerned about Allan," she spoke quietly, after checking to make sure the steward in question had moved out of earshot. "All morning, he has been trudging about his job to the point that some passengers have expressed concern to Mary and me."

Ayden's ears splayed back slightly at this troubling bit of news. "That bad?"

April nodded her head. "I wanted to talk to him about it. But I wasn't sure how to approach the conversation."

The captain stole a quick glance over his shoulder toward the Labrador making his way down the cabin aisle. "Do you have any idea why he is so down?"?

His question was answered by Mary, who had overheard their discrete conversation. "I learned after our earlier trip to Baltimore that he was originally assigned to transcontinental flights aboard 767s. The airline had to demote him down to our level due to capacity cuts."

Ayden visibly cringed. "Oh... that's terrible."

"The industry can be vicious," April added bleakly. "I can see why he is so miserable."

The other two airline employees agreed wholeheartedly. Being demoted in such a fashion usually entailed a pay cut, as well as longer, more grueling, hours in some cases. However, it was a grim and necessary task that airlines sometimes had to carry out to remain profitable. Sometimes you just had to roll with the punches.

The Belgian shepherd took one last glance toward the back of the aircraft. "I'm not sure what we can do. I guess, keep me posted if he gets worse when we're in the air."

April pursed her lips. "I don't think it will get worse... but we will let you know if something does happen."

Taking faith in the flight attendant's word, Ayden gave the shepherd a nod, and made his way forward toward the cockpit, deciding it was best to try putting the matter out of his mind. He had a number of tasks to still complete before the aircraft could leave the gate. Fretting over an unhappy colleague wasn't going to get the passengers to Philadelphia.

The whole issue was promptly forgotten when the malinois made his way onto the flight deck.

Entering the aircraft cockpit was always a special moment for Ayden. This was his workplace, his desk as some pilots liked to say. From these relatively cramped confines, he would take control of the airliner and work to navigate the plane through the crowded skies toward his distant destination, making sure to arrive in a safe and timely manner.

The cockpit of the MD-88 was quite an overwhelming array of technology for the eye to take in on first glance. Aside from the easily recognizable control yoke and engine throttle levers, the countless switches, readouts, fuses, keypads, and general instrumentation might as well have been alien technology to those not trained to operate such a sophisticated aircraft.

To a trained pilot however, it was obvious that this particular Mad Dog had seen many flight hours. The airline could always overhaul a plane, replace worn out components and equipment, or slap a fresh coat of paint on the exterior, yet a pilot could always tell the age of his bird just by simply looking at the cockpit. The paint had begun to peel off the control yoke from the countless hours of flying, as well as various dials and knobs. Moreover, the instrumentation panel as a whole just simply looked worn to the eye, perhaps even antiquated to a degree.

That wasn't to say, that the aircraft's airworthiness wasn't sound; far from it. The MD-88 flew just as gracefully as the day it had been built, largely due to the rigorous maintenance that the airline performed on a regular basis, making sure to keep the older birds of its fleet in peak flying condition. The fact that Delta still flew DC-9s, which had been built in the 1970s, was proof enough of that very notion.

The worn out state of the Mad Dog's cockpit was always a source of comfort for Captain Rhodes. Stepping paw within it reminded the Belgian shepherd of his rugged A-10 cockpit, which had been his primary fighter aircraft during the malinois's years in the Air Force. Both aircraft were sturdy, old, and reliable workhorses, designed to carry out the dirty work of their respective fields. For the MD-88, that meant ferrying passengers about on short-haul flights, while the Warthog took on the role of tank buster for the Air Force.

The sudden bout of nostalgia was promptly shaken off as Ayden decided it was time to get down to preflighting the cockpit. However, before he moved to take the captain's seat, the shepherd decided to remove his uniform coat. For the next few hours, he would be confined to a sitting position while the plane flew to Philadelphia; removing the constricting jacket was just a way for the malinois to remain more comfortable.

With care, Ayden draped his coat over the backrest of the cockpit captain's chair, and then removed his pilot's hat. The subsequent act of taking possession of the pilot seat was a somewhat difficult task to do, since the Belgian shepherd first had to make sure his ample tail slid into the proper hole woven between the seat's backrest and cushion, being mindful to not accidentally hit any switches or instrument dials in the process.

Captain Rhodes uttered a content sigh upon taking full custody of the seat, feeling the pliant material of the cushion yield to his weight. For a moment, the malinois simply sat in awed silence as he grasped the two worn handles of the control yoke, reveling in the feel of the hefty mechanism in his grasp.

No matter how many times Ayden took to the sky, the feel of the controls in his hands never got old. It had been the same with his A-10, and even the simple trainer aircraft he had learned to fly before commanding his Warthog. There was just no comparing the experience of taking a plane into the air under your own control, no matter how big or small.

After a moment to take it all in, the shepherd gave another shake of his head. Even though his copilot wasn't aboard yet, he could still begin checking over the plane's systems.

To begin, Captain Rhodes procured the aircraft preflight checklist, essentially the pilot's manual to configuring an airliner for all modes of flight, and set about completing the first items on the list.

Ayden had performed the preflight routine hundreds of times over the past few years, allowing him to practically memorize the procedure from start to finish. However, federal regulations required the use of the checklist to ensure that every single step was properly carried out, to safeguard against pilot error during aircraft operations. If history had taught the industry anything over the past few decades, it was that deviation, or even outright refusal to follow the checklist, resulted in accidents and fatalities no matter how vigilant a pilot was.

Roughly two minutes later, the Belgian shepherd was already well into the first set of checklist steps when his keen ears caught the sound of someone entering the cockpit.

"Sorry I'm late!"

Ayden paused with his gaze still held on the overhead panel of switches above his seat, having just finished testing the audible cockpit alarms. The feminine voice of the newcomer had caught him by surprise.

Turning toward the open cockpit door behind his seat, Captain Rhodes was greeted by the sight of a somewhat out of breath Border collie. She wore the same crisp dark blue uniform as him, with a matching pilot's hat that neatly framed her two floppy ears poking out to either side. To his observation, her otherwise dominate black fur was interrupted by a prominent swath of white across the collie's brow and shapely muzzle, as well as the fur of her hands and forearms. However, the most striking aspect of her appearance was without a doubt her conspicuous blue eyes, which conveyed a distinctive intellect and personality.

"I'm sorry for being late," she continued, taking a moment to catch her breath as she panted lightly. "They only told me ten minutes ago I was assigned to this flight."

Ayden fumbled for words. "Ah... erm... it's no problem."

The collie surveyed the cockpit for a brief moment before her eyes settled on him with a friendly regard. "I'm Ella Thomas. Hope you don't mind me flying with you today... Captain Rhodes."

He reached out to accept her offered hand, making sure to keep his grasp light, and tried to recover his poise. "Please... call me Ayden."

"Only if you call me Ella." She gave him a playful grin at the malinois's sudden uncomfortable look, and then glanced back toward the passenger cabin. "Let me just toss my bag up in the overhead and then I'll help you get things roll'in up here."

Before Ayden could reply, she pivoted about and moved aft through the forward galley with suitcase in tow. As she walked, his gaze inadvertently settled on her downy tail, which swayed rhythmically behind her form; he couldn't help but admire the swath of white splayed across the tip, which stood out against the dark blue of her uniform.

The Border collie was young for an airline pilot, perhaps in her early thirties. Her physique was slim and lithe to the eye, giving the impression of someone who was quick on her paws. There was little doubt that she could probably run circles around him.

It only took a moment for Ella to collapse the telescoping handle of her bag and lift the suitcase up into the overhead bin next to the captain's, which she accomplished with ease. However, before she turned back toward his perspective, the shepherd made sure to avert his gaze back to the checklist in his lap. It would've been quite awkward had she caught him staring.

As Ayden's pointy ears registered her entrance back in the cockpit moment's later, a hand came to rest on the backrest of his seat. "It certainly is a nice day to fly," Ella spoke, while she leaned down alongside the shepherd to gaze out the side window of the cockpit.

"That it is indeed," the malinois replied, smiling to himself. "You know, you're probably the sixth or seventh fur that has said that to me in the past two hours."

Ella chuckled softly next to him. "Well, they all speak the truth."

"Barring any unforeseen issues, we should have a quick and uneventful flight up to Philly."

The Border collie nodded her head and moved to stand upright again, stealing a glance at the uniform coat draped over Ayden's seat. "How was the exterior inspection?"

Ayden looked up from the checklist. "Aside from a little dirt, the plane is in good shape."

Ella nodded, and promptly removed her uniform coat to arrange it over the copilot seat in the same manner as Captain Rhodes. In a show of canine agility she then deftly vaulted herself into the chair, uttering a sigh of content much as he had done upon grasping the control yoke.

"Nothing quite beats the feel of strapping on the plane, doesn't it?" Ayden remarked.

The collie's head tilted to the side in puzzlement. "Strapping on the plane?" she questioned, mulling over his words. "What do you mean by that?"

Ayden leaned over to hand her a folder containing their flight information, which she accepted. "I'm surprised you've never heard that saying before. It's a common term used by fighter pilots when we buckle into the cockpit. Many feel as if they are strapping on the plane in the same manner you might put on a jetpack, or something equally ridiculous."

"Were you in the Air Force?" Ella inquired, having picked up on the captain's use of "we" in his explanation.

"Ah... well yes I was."

Ella set the folder to the side for a moment. "And I take it you were a fighter pilot?"

"Yes. I was an A-10 driver."

At his reply, the Border collie's expression livened up quite noticeably. "Oh... I love that aircraft! Such a fine piece of engineering art, the Warthog is."

This time, it was Ayden's turn to wear a look of puzzlement. "Really? I find that rather amazing. Most furs dismiss the aircraft as an ungainly flying tank that can't even break the sound barrier."

"But, that is exactly what makes the A-10 such a wonderful plane. Not many fighters are built to take a beating like the Warthog can, as well as dish out the hurt to tanks and other ground targets. I envy you for having the chance to pilot such a beautiful aircraft."

The conviction of her words surprised Ayden. He had never expected to run across another pilot who shared the same admiration for his beloved fighter.

Many aspiring Air Force pilots usually opted for the sleeker and more stylish F-15, F-16 or F-22, which conveyed higher prestige among the flying ranks. Ayden's class of trainees had been no exception back when he had been nothing more than a naïve teenager fresh out of high school.

Unlike the majority of his peers, the malinois had actually favored the slower, far uglier ground support fighter to its nimbler counterparts, knowing full well where the true grit and determination was required in the Air Force. Sure, he had gotten quite a bit of ribbing from his friends about the choice. But Ayden had eventually gotten the last laugh.

All the teasing and jokes had ceased when Afghanistan and the Second Iraq War came about, thrusting Ayden and his squadron into the heat of conflict. With the enemy's air threat all but nonexistent, the bulk of combat action the Air Force saw was close air support for ground troops moving about the parched desert or mountainous terrain below, an attack role that the A-10 was specifically designed for.

The amusing irony of the situation had not escaped the Belgian shepherd. While his supposedly superior counterparts carried nothing but bomb payloads, flying straight and uneventful ground attack missions several miles above the war below, the malinois and his Warthog squadron took the fight right down to the deck, diving on enemy positions to obliterate armor and ground troops in a very up close and personal manner. It was only fitting that the A-10 subsequently became the Air Force's most potent and versatile weapon of the conflict.

"She was certainly a beautiful plane to fly," Ayden finally said, after a moment of silence.

The collie's gaze was distant and starry-eyed. "I would've definitely loved to take one into combat, just to feel the rush of the G-Forces pushing me back against the seat straps in a sharp banking turn."

"Were you in the Air Force?"

At Ayden's question, Ella's regard snapped back to the here and now like a whip. Her sudden pained expression unnerved him. But just that suddenly, the look was gone, replaced instead by a weak smile. "I never was. I wanted to join up right out of high school... but... family matters didn't permit me to."

Suddenly, Ella turned her attention to the previously forgotten folder next to her seat, choosing to not elaborate further.

Captain Rhodes, himself, decided to not pursue the topic as he brought his attention back to the aircraft. It seemed like a sensitive subject to her. "Ah... well alright, can you crosscheck the flight plan in the computer while I continue the checklist?"

Ella gave him a slight nod, happy that he had changed the subject, and proceeded to crack open the manila folder to reveal the flight information within. The first paper she came across was a detailed map diagram of their course and altitude outlined beforehand by air traffic control.

"Looks like they have us skirting the coast most of the way," the Border collie stated. She removed the chart to eye it closely. "Thirty-three thousand cruise altitude with a possible hold once we reach Philly airspace. Seems they are expecting some delays up that way."

Ayden frowned at this bit of information. "Always too much traffic up north for them to handle, even on a good day like this. We'll just have to hope things run smoothly once we get up there."

"I'm sure we'll breeze right in without any trouble."

While Captain Rhodes continued his checks of the various electrical and mechanical systems within the cockpit, Ella turned her attention to the flight management system, commonly called an FMS.

One of the many beauties of modern commercial aviation was the advent of sophisticated electronics and flight guidance equipment. Essentially, after decades of development, most airliners now possessed the capability to fly themselves almost completely without any pilot assistance. This feat of engineering was even possible with older aircraft such as the MD-88.

Thus, the first officer simply had to verify that the correct information was entered into the FMS system. The airline actually filed and supplied the flight plan electronically, effectively downloading the data into the aircraft computer via a dispatch frequency. It was Ella's job to ensure that the information displayed on the FMS screen actually matched that supplied on her paper media, and to work with the airline's dispatcher to correct any discrepancies if they existed.

It was at that moment the first passengers began boarding the aircraft. There were still a number of items for the pilots to complete, and they both wasted no time working through them. Nothing would've been worse than to be delayed due to their inability to properly prepare for departure on time.

With Ella now busy checking the FMS, Captain Rhodes set about the next task on the list, calculating the plane's weight for their takeoff. Even with an aircraft as large as the MD-88, the pilot was still obligated to calculate passenger, fuel and cargo weights prior to pushing back from the gate. Doing so allowed the malinois to figure out the approximate takeoff speed and climb to cruising altitude, as well as to ensure the plane was properly loaded.

"How long have you been flying with the company?" Ayden asked suddenly, hoping to restart the conversation.

The collie's ears twitched keenly as she kept her focus on the FMS navigation screen. "Not even a year yet as a matter of fact. I'm fresh from the regional carriers."

"We're probably one of the youngest flight crews within the airline."

The statement gave Ella pause. She looked over to him coyly. "I suppose you're right," the collie managed after a moment, and then grinned. "Nothing wrong with that though."

Ayden nodded his head. "Of course not."

"I've been flying since I was sixteen. I suppose that helped me get my hours quickly enough." Ella shrugged and turned her attention back to the flight plan sheet. "Since then, flying has been in my blood. I've loved every second of it."

The Belgian shepherd patted a hand atop his control yoke. "I have a rather motivating Air Force recruiter to thank for getting me here. I started off pretty young myself. Without his influence, I'd probably have ended up with a political science college degree... and who knows where that might've led."

The Border collie hesitated for the briefest of moments with her words. "I... have my father to thank for helping me to get here." Her hand paused with fingers poised just above the FMS keypad while she looked to Ayden with the warmest of smiles. "He took me up once in his Cessna when I was just a pup. From then on, I knew what I wanted to do with my life, and he helped me every step of the way."

"He must be a very loving father."

Her smile never faltered, yet there was just the faintest hint of sadness that Ayden suddenly became aware of. "Yes... yes he was."

It only took an instant for the shepherd to fill in the blanks. "Oh... I'm terribly sorry." His ears splayed fully back with the dread that he felt. "I overstepped myself."

"No, it's alright," Ella replied sincerely. She sighed deeply before continuing. "My father lost his fight with lung cancer almost a month ago. But it was a long time coming, and we both knew when the time had arrived... all those years of smoking."

"I'm sorry for your loss. You father sounded like a good fur."

"He was... and always will be in my eyes."

The collie suddenly shook off the cloud that had been seemingly hanging over her head, bringing about her former cheerful self once more. "I've made peace with his passing. I was lucky enough to spend quite a lot of time with him over these past few years. I couldn't ask for anything more."?

In the ensuing awkward silence, Ella brought her attention back to the FMS, leaving Ayden to his thoughts as he turned his gaze out the cockpit window.

The collie was certainly a strong-willed fur, with a passionate and kindhearted disposition. There was just an affability to her that the shepherd felt himself drawn toward. And here he had managed to start things off by reminding her about her father's death. He shook his head subtly in disgust; what a way to get off on the wrong paw.

For a few minutes, both pilots continued on with their individual tasks, letting the silence propagate in the cockpit. Several times Ayden stole a glance over toward the collie with words on the tip of his tongue, yet he stopped short of speaking.

Captain Rhodes had to wonder what was wrong with himself. Usually he ended up hitting it off with his copilot right from the get go. However, words just simply eluded the shepherd. Sure, First Officer Thomas was the first female pilot he had been partnered with, and a strikingly beautiful one at that. Physical traits aside though, she was no different than any of his other colleagues. Why couldn't he strike up a conversation with her?

Ayden shoved the troubling thought away. At the very least, he wanted to keep the atmosphere relaxed within the cockpit. After all, they still had a flight to carry out, and the Belgian shepherd damned well didn't want to make things any worse than he already had.

Suddenly, the audible sound of a stomach growling caught the malinois's keen ears, barely distinguishable above the ambient noise of the aircraft. Instinctively he reached down to pat his own stomach, until he realized it wasn't him.

Ella's ears folded back as she sank in her seat and muttered a curse under her breath.

"Did you manage to grab lunch before our flight?" Ayden asked kindly.

"Unfortunately not." The irritation in her tone was not directed toward the shepherd. "I packed a lunch this morning, but forgot it in my rush to get here."

Ayden gave a slight nod of the head. "I see... would you care for a little snack then?"

The collie tilted her head to the side inquisitively. "Snack?"

In reply, the malinois shifted in his seat to look back through the open cabin door. "Hey Mary?"

After a moment, the Irish setter poked her head into the cockpit from the galley behind. "What do you need, hun?"

Ayden motioned with his muzzle toward the collie. "Ella here hasn't had any lunch. Would you mind if we pilfered a few munchies for the trip?"

A broad grin appeared across the stewardess's greying muzzle. "Oh! Of course."

With those words she disappeared from view, only to reappear seconds later with a handful of snack food for them. The tiny packages were normally served with the drink service while the plane was in flight. But the airline didn't mind if the pilots stole a few here and there. Ayden, himself, usually indulged in a bite before he took off, and the cabin crew was always more than happy to help out.

The captain accepted the handful of snacks with a smile. "Thanks, Mary."

"Never fun to fly on an empty stomach," the setter replied, giving Ella a wink.

The collie looked like she wanted to curl up into a tiny ball, yet still managed a smile. "Thanks for the food," she spoke weakly.

"How's the boarding coming?" Ayden asked, turning to the stewardess once more.

Mary chanced a look back down the aircraft aisle. "Moving right along. We should be ready to go in no time." the Irish setter's eyes then swept the cockpit. "How are things up here?"

"We're pretty much ready to go. Looks like nothing but smooth air between here and Philly." Ayden's muzzle twisted into a frown. "Although, we've been warned we might be thrown into a hold once we get there."

"Bah... those bothersome controllers up north can never handle their traffic."

The setter removed herself from the cockpit to continue assisting with the boarding process, leaving the pilots to their snacks. Setting a few packages to the side, Ayden gave the collie her options with one hand holding a bag of pretzels, and the other a cookie wrapper.

Managing to recover her composure, Ella eyed her choices with tongue poking out the side of her muzzle. After a moment's consideration, she ended up settling for the pretzels.

Ayden arched an eyebrow at his copilot's choice. "Huh, I thought for sure you'd pick the Biscoff."

With both hands poised to rip open her pretzel bag, Ella paused and regarded the malinois with another curious look. "You mean those cookies? I've never tried them before."

The revelation nearly floored the captain. "You're kidding me."

The collie shrugged her shoulders casually. "I've always been a pretzel lover."

"You have to try one."

Ayden fixed her with a knowing look as he carefully unwrapped the cookie wrapper, soon producing two wafers, and subsequently gave one to her. "I promise you'll never pick the pretzels again."

Ella eyed the strange food in her hand. To her observation, it appeared to be nothing more than a burnt cookie with the airline's name engraved into the face.

The Border collie hesitated, and then gingerly raised the wafer to take a small nip off the corner with her teeth.

To Ayden's amusement, her facial features suddenly crinkled with delight.

"Oh my God! This is delicious." The shepherd laughed as Ella quickly set about devouring what remained of the hapless cookie.

"One of the few perks I enjoy when I fly," Captain Rhodes proclaimed. He quickly followed her lead by taking a generous bite of his own wafer, taking his time to savor the unique taste.

Together the two pilots made quick work of the remaining snacks the stewardess had given them, soon leaving nothing but wrappers.

Just as Ella polished off the last of her pretzels, Mary poked her head back into the cockpit once more. "We've got a full house back here. Everyone is aboard and we're ready to go."

The two pilots exchanged looks. "We have our paperwork, and the plane is ready to go," Ayden declared. "Let's get this show on the road."

The stewardess nodded her head. "Alright... you two have a pleasant flight."

"Same to you. Keep our passengers happy for us!"

The setter quickly extracted herself from the cockpit, and proceeded to shut the door to seal the pilots off from the rest of the plane. Hearing the latch click shut, Ayden then reached around to secure the security bar across the door surface, locking it into place to prevent a disgruntled passenger or would-be terrorist from forcing their way through.

"You feel like taking us up there?" Ayden asked his copilot.

The collie grinned playfully. "You captains always make me do the first leg... yes I can indeed." It was common practice for flight crews to rotate flying duties between flights, with one pilot actually flying the plane and the other working radio traffic and general cockpit assistance to lessen the workload.

Both pilots donned their headsets. Ayden then quickly flipped through the checklist to the appropriate page. However, before they began, an idea suddenly popped into his head.

"When we get up to Philly, I'm buying you lunch," Captain Rhodes abruptly spoke, catching Ella off guard.

"What? Why?"

"Pretzels and cookies can only hold you so long. I feel bad knowing that you missed out on a proper meal."

The collie's embarrassment was plain to see. "You don't have to do that. I'll be fine until we get back into Atlanta."

"Oh, just let me help you out. It would make me feel better." The malinois put on his best imploring look with ears pinned back ever so slightly, hoping to weaken her resolve... it worked.

With a defeated sigh, the Border collie shook her head. "You're damned good at that," she remarked, smiling. "Alright then. But only if I get to return the favor later on." She gave him a look that promised she wouldn't let the issue go that easily.

Ayden chuckled. "It's a deal."

The distinctly audible sound of the passenger door closing just behind the cockpit announced to the pilots that the cabin crew had sealed the plane off from the adjoining jet bridge. This in turn signaled to the ground personnel that the aircraft was ready to depart, causing them to swing into action.

Simultaneously, within the cockpit, Ayden turned his attention to the checklist in his lap, and ran a finger down across the small bold-faced print. What followed was a procedure the malinois had performed countless times.

"Alright, let's do the prestart checklist," Captain Rhodes said, keeping his eyes on the paper in his lap.

First Officer Thomas suddenly started with a sharp intake of breath. "Wait... there is something I almost forgot to do."

Looking up from his checklist, Ayden watched with curiosity while the collie reached back into the pocket of her coat and carefully removed a small silver bracelet. As Ella slowly slipped the jewelry over her hand, she closed her eyes with a slight bow of the head.

For several moments she remained motionless there, leaving the malinois to stare in bewilderment from the other side of the cockpit.

Finally though, Ella's striking blue eyes opened once more to regard Ayden, who was caught with his muzzle half ajar. "Sorry about that," the collie stammered, sinking in her seat slightly with embarrassment getting the better of her. "I always wear this when I fly."

Ayden studied her keenly for a moment, before nodding his head slowly. "It's no problem."

In the brief silence that followed, he decided to continue with the checklist. Yet, Ella surprised the shepherd.

"It was a gift from my father," she spoke quietly, twisting the bracelet around her wrist with her other hand. "He gave it to me when I first got my pilot license." For a few seconds she studied the band around her forearm, apparently considering something.

After a moment's thought she seemed to make up her mind, and leaned over toward him with her arm outstretched, allowing Ayden a better look.

The bracelet was indeed a finely crafted piece of jewelry, with numerous interwoven silver bands wrapping around the soft white fur of her wrist. However, what really caught the malinois's eye was the flat ornamented segment across the one side, with a short phrase inscribed into the polished silver surface: Give me wings, and I will fly.

"It's a phrase my father always spoke to me," Ella said.

As Ayden continued to admire the bracelet, she reached into her pocket to produce an identical one to the first. This second band contained the same interweaving silver chain design as the first. Yet, as the malinois watched her slide the jewelry over her other hand, he caught sight of the words inscribed across the side: Onward, through the clouds, I will soar.

Ella's eyes regarded the finely polished silver bracelet fondly, and quietly, she recited the words from memory.

"Give me wings, and I will fly. Onward, through the clouds, I will soar. Where a highway must end, the horizon goes on. I explore without limitation, for I am bound to the heavens, yet free from the constraints of this world. The stars are my guide, and the sky is my home."

When the collie's words trailed off, she found Captain Rhodes regarding her with a mystified countenance.

"Wow," Ayden breathed in awe, rubbing his muzzle thoughtfully. "That was very beautiful."

The collie's ears splayed back. "You must think I'm weird."

Her words jolted the Belgian shepherd. "Oh, definitely not."

Before she could reply, he carefully reached a hand up to grasp at a necklace chain that Ella had not previously noticed. To the collie's surprise, Ayden fished an object out from underneath his collared shirt, revealing, of all things, a bullet.

No... upon closure inspection, Ella was able to determine that it was in fact just the bullet slug minus the cartridge. The 5.56x45mm NATO round was fastened to the chain on the butt end with the pointed tip hanging down as the shepherd held it before him, showing that quite a bit of craftsmanship had gone into the necklace's construction.

Ayden motioned to the bullet with his eyes. "On this simple round are the initials of seven brave individuals. I keep it with me whenever I fly as well, to remind me of the day that we crossed paths."

Ella eyed the projectile with interest. "What happened?"

"It was back when I was in Afghanistan. A group of Navy SEALs and their translator came under fire and were pinned. I ended up providing close air support until a helo was brought in to get them out."

The shepherd took the bullet into his hand. "Several days later, this showed up in my mailbox with a note of thanks."

Ella smiled. "It must've been nice to know you helped save the lives of several brave soldiers."

"I couldn't have asked for a better outcome on that day. Thus I keep this bullet with me to remind myself that I did my part back then... because not all of my missions ended on such a happy note."

At those words, the malinois's gaze became distant, the memories coming back in a flood for just an instant. However, the twinge of pain he felt was only for a moment, before the captain recovered his poise, but not before his copilot had taken notice.

Ella wavered on the verge of inquiring into the matter further. However, she quickly decided against it, having seen the brief flash of anguish that had crossed his expression. Something had happened to the captain during his tours of duty, leaving an emotional scar that he had probably labored hard to overcome. That was something she had no business asking about.

"But that's all in the past now," Ayden continued, his gaze suddenly refocusing back to the present while he turned to the collie. "I guess what I'm trying to say by all this is that you're not the only one who holds on to memories of the past." He punctuated his statement with a reassuring smile, as much for her as for himself.

"I guess us pilots are all alike in some way, shape, or form," Ella ventured. She patted one of her bracelets. "I'm glad to know I'm not the only one." A thought suddenly occurred to the Border collie. "How do you get that necklace through security? I imagine the TSA frowns upon taking such a thing aboard, even if it's just the slug."

Ayden grinned crookedly. "I couldn't at first. However, I decided to become a FFDO."

"Oh, you're a Federal Fight Deck Officer?" Ella inquired, her ears perking up. Being part of that particular program allowed a pilot to carry a gun when they flew.

"Indeed. I have to send the necklace through the x-ray machine with my bag and Glock 19 pistol. But I just put it right back on once I'm in the terminal."

"Certainly a lot of hassle," the collie remarked with a grin.

Ayden rolled his eyes. "Yes... but it's worth it."

The topic of his participation in the FFDO program reminded the Belgian shepherd that his handgun was still stowed in his overnight bag in the overhead bin, a major mistake on his part; the lack of storage space in the cockpit was always a problem of the MD-88.

For a moment he entertained the notion of going back to retrieve it, yet quickly thought better of the idea. While it wasn't exactly safe to leave a weapon in the cabin with passengers, he couldn't go and remove it now, not without drawing unwanted attention.

Besides, contrary to her meek appearance, Mary was also certified under the FFDO program, and carried a snub nose revolver in her own bag. Ayden decided it was best to just inform the Irish setter when he could of his mistake and ask her to keep track of his suitcase. So long as the FAA didn't know about his blunder, no harm, no foul.

With his headset still resting atop the shepherd's head, Ayden reached over to dial in the proper frequency of the airport's clearance delivery. It was time for the captain to reaffirm their flight plan with air traffic control.

"Atlanta Clearance Delivery, Delta 1283 at Gate A6 ready to copy IFR clearance into Philadelphia," the shepherd spoke after keying the mic.

There was a slight pause. "Good afternoon, Delta 1283," the delivery controller replied over the radio frequency. "Standby for routing... it seems the airspace up north is a little more congested than initially predicted. There is a good chance you'll end up in a hold over Philly."

Both pilots scoffed at the news as Ella procured the necessary flight charts and routing information. What followed would be a precise read-back of their planned route, to which she would compare against what they had on paper, and make any changes if necessary. In most cases, at least one minor correction had to be made from the initial path.

The entire read-back procedure took only a few minutes to accomplish, resulting in just a small altitude correction on one leg of the ascent. With clearance now granted, the pilots set about preparing the MD-88 for push back and engine start, beginning with the incomplete checklist that they both still had opened in their laps.

"Prestart Checklist," First Officer Thomas called out. Technically Ayden had already completed the majority of the procedure silently. However, the last part required verbal callouts between the pilot flying, known as the PF, and the pilot not flying, referred to as the PNF.

Ella rolled her shoulders to loosen up, and moved a finger to the first item of the list. "Covers and pins."

The malinois's reply was quick. "Removed"

The copilot's finger moved down a line. "Aircraft logs and documents."

"Checked onboard."

"Altimeter."

Ayden leaned over to check the altitude pressure setting. "Three zero four nine, set."

"Fuel, oil, hydraulic quantity."

"Checked."

From there the list continued on through numerous items, allowing the pilots to make sure the aircraft was properly configured for departure. At the same time, the jet bridge began to pull away from the side cockpit window, clearing the fuselage so that the aircraft could be pushed back safely.

"Checklist complete," Ella proclaimed after every item had been read through. With practiced ease she flipped through several pages until reaching the next item in the procedure. "Ready for push and start."

As the shepherd dialed in the frequency for the airport ground handler, Ella set about arranging her approach and landing charts near the control yoke for easy access later on.

Once more Ayden keyed his mic. "Atlanta Ground, Delta 1283 at Gate A6, ready for push."

"Delta 1283, Atlanta Ground, hold one moment. I need to get a company 7-5 past your slot first."

The shepherd toggled his headset for the reply. "Hold for traffic, Delta 1283."

The pilots exchanged looks. "It's always a parking lot out there," Ella mused aloud. "Never a day when there isn't a 757 parked behind my plane when I want to leave."

"I'll say."

Ella changed her headset over to the push back channel, which was linked to a plug outlet under the nose of the aircraft. Ayden, in the meantime, continued monitoring the ground frequency.

Down below on the tarmac, a Doberman stood alongside the nose wheel of the parked aircraft. With a headset connected to the opened audio plug port of the plane underneath the pilots, he patiently waited while tapping a foot rhythmically to the beat of the tune he hummed, which was lost against the whine of idling jet engines and airport commotion. The slight crackle that greeted his ears announced that the pilot had finally tuned in to the channel.

"Hello down there," First Officer Thomas spoke. "How's the weather?"

"Good, albeit a tad chilly for my liking," the ground handler replied jauntily against the background noise of the tarmac. "Are we ready to push?"

"Almost. Have to wait for a 7-5 to pass us by."

The Doberman looked past the MD-88 to the larger aircraft parked just behind it. "Ah... it might be a few then. There is quite a traffic jam going on behind you right now."

Ella grunted with annoyance. "What else is new?"

"Well... at least you're not waiting for a gate like he appears to be. Nothing worse than having to sit there after a flight."

Ella grimaced. She, and many other pilots, had been stuck in that position before. It was like driving across the country on a road trip, only to be pulled over by a cop within sight of your hotel. "You know... what I wouldn't give for a rearview mirror on one of these things."

A hearty chuckle greeted the collie's ears from the other end of the line. "I can probably rip one off a baggage tug if you're desperate."

The resulting mental image provoked a laugh from First Officer Thomas, which caused the captain to tilt his head in curiosity with ears perked up. He was, after all, only listening to one side of the conversation.

"I'll just need to find some duct tape and then you'll be all set," the Doberman continued mirthfully.

"Maybe when I get back from Philly you can hook me up."

At that moment, Ayden took a call from Mary over the plane's intercom system. The stewardess promptly informed the captain that the plane was battened down and ready for departure. With that final aspect of their preflight complete, it was time to get on the road... once traffic moved out of the way.

Ella took note of their ready status, and keyed her mic once more. "Alright, once we get clearance to push, I'll let you know."

"I'll still be here kicking the tires."

Captain Rhodes suddenly snapped to attention as the ramp controller called out to their flight. For a moment he listened in rapt silence to the instructions given.

The malinois's ensuing reply was short and to the point. "Clear to push for Runway 9L, Delta 1283." He turned to give Ella the thumbs up.

"Looks like we are good to go now," she called out to the pushback handler. "Do we have room to back this beast up for 9L?"

There was a moment's pause, as the Doberman outside presumably took a glance out toward the tarmac space. "Yes, the 7-5 is moving out of your way. We're all here and set. Go ahead and release brakes."

At the handler's request, Ella slipped the parking brake of the MD-88, passing control of the aircraft off to the pushback tug, which was currently connected to the nose wheel via a tow bar. "Brakes released."

Gradually the pilots felt the plane begin to move backward, as the tug slowly pushed the aircraft away from the terminal and gate slot.

With ground personnel walking alongside either wing, the Doberman kept pace next to the pushback tug itself, his headset and linking cord still connecting him to the aircraft nose. It was now his job to keep the pilot's advised of the conditions around their aircraft.

"You're clear for Engine One start," the voice called out in Ella's headset.

The Border collie turned to Ayden, making sure to key her mic as well. "Starting Engine One."

"Starting Engine One," the shepherd echoed, reaching up to toggle the ignition switch.

Within the cockpit, both pilots monitored the engine gauges as the readouts started to climb toward the idle settings, accompanied by the barely audible moan of the spooling turbine far behind them. When a preset speed and pressure was attained, Ayden reached over to activate the fuel pump and combustion igniters.

In a sudden surge, the turbine lit with a small puff of exhaust, swiftly pushing the RPM up to the idle levels while self-sustaining ignition was initiated and successively maintained.

As Engine One settled into a stable idle thrust, the instruments on the copilot's side of the plane flickered with power switching over from the APU to the engine's internal generator. In cases of emergency, both the pilot and copilot instrument panels ran off separate circuits as a form of redundancy.

"Engine One start complete," Ayden called out. By now, their view had shifted as the tug turned the plane onto the tarmac taxiway, presenting the tails of several different aircraft either parked or taxing in front of their perspective. The airport's tarmac was always a parking lot no matter what time of day it was.

"Set brakes," the Doberman spoke from outside, once the tug driver had straightened out the plane's nose wheel with the fuselage perpendicular to where it had been parked moments ago.

Ella quickly complied. "Brakes set."

"Will you be taxiing on just one engine?"

"Yes we will." When a plane was light enough, pilots preferred to taxi the aircraft with only one running engine. This in turn, allowed for a marginal savings in fuel consumption, with the added hindrance of asymmetrical thrust.

The collie could practically hear the shrug from the other end of the line. "Got to save pennies where you can I guess."

First Officer Thomas chuckled. "Indeed, fuel is damned expensive these days."

Only a minute was required to detach the tug and tow bar assembly from the nose wheel of the aircraft. Once the equipment was safely away, the Doberman handler backpedaled away from the plane with a smart salute to Ella.

First Officer Thomas returned the gesture, and then turned to Ayden. "Tug is detached and safely away."

Now the two pilots entered into a specific segment of the flight known as Sterile Cockpit. During this phase, which stretched from ground taxi up to a flight level of 10,000 feet, only conversation critical to flight operations was permitted within the flight deck. By enacting this restriction, the Federal Aviation Administration hoped to maintain a safe working environment for both crew and passengers, by ensuring that no fatal errors were committed during this crucial stage of flight.

All pilots in the airline community understood the gravity of the rule. As history had shown on more than one occasion, a distracted pilot could be a very deadly problem.

In a swap of roles, Ayden took control of taxiing the aircraft as the PF pilot via the tiller wheel located on his left, which was only available to the captain. The simple device was used during ground operations to steer the MD-88 by turning the nose wheel independently from the rudder, and allowed for the airliner to make tight turns when navigating about the airport tarmac and taxiways.

Since Ayden was now controlling the plane, Ella would take over ground communications, until the collie once more assumed command as the PF pilot for takeoff.

Getting the nod of approval from Captain Rhodes, Ella keyed her mic. "Atlanta Ground, Delta 1283 with information Mike for taxi."

She had to wait a moment for the controller to issue instructions to another aircraft before getting to their flight. "Delta 1283, It's your lucky day, simply follow the company 7-6 in front of you to the active."

The simplicity of the taxi instructions caught both pilots by surprise. Usually the act of reaching the runway entailed an intricate dance around other aircraft moving to and fro. Apparently, this time they had a straight shot.

It wasn't hard to spot the Boeing 767 they were supposed to follow. The much larger aircraft practically dwarfed the Mad Dog in size, and was only a few hundred feet forward of their plane. All that needed to be done was a simple task of follow the leader, a common taxi practice that airport controllers used to simplify matters when traffic got heavy.

"Alright then," Ayden spoke, flipping through several pages of his checklist, which was identical to the first officer's. "Taxi Checklist..." With the swap in roles, the checklist readouts changed as well.

Ayden brought a thumb up to mark his place at the beginning of the list. "Taxi and Exterior Lights."

Ella reached up to flip the appropriate switches. "On."

Much like the collie had done, Ayden moved his finger down a line. "Flaps and Slats."

In response, the Border collie reached down to the throttle quadrant located between the two pilots and pulled the flap lever down partially. She then waited a few seconds to make sure the gauges indicated that the hydraulics had deployed properly. "Set at eleven degrees takeoff."

The Belgian shepherd never missed a beat as he continued on. "Fuel Heat."

"On."

"EPR Bugs and TRP."

A moment's pause to verify the items in question. "Set."

"Takeoff speed."

"Verified."

"Takeoff brief."

Ella didn't hesitate in her reply. "Performed."

"ATC, flight guidance, and NAVAIDS."

Again the collie took a moment to run through the items called out. "Set and checked."

Ayden's rapid-fire callouts continued. "FMS."

"Preflight complete."

"APU air and master switch."

Ella inspected the controls in question. "Both off."

"Brake temperature and pressure."

"Check and... check."

Ayden looked up with a sigh. "And another Taxi Checklist bites the dust."

Ella nodded her head, and then took note of the moving traffic pattern outside the aircraft. "Seems our chase partner has already started rolling." She motioned with a hand toward the 767 that was now slowly moving down the tarmac. "Let's catch up, shall we?"

Her words were met with a smile from Ayden as the shepherd took a hand and carefully advanced the throttle, producing a heightened whine of noise from the spooling engine.

At first, the aircraft remained motionless. Yet, after a little more coaxed power from the throttle, the wheels began to roll ever so slowly.

With the plane soon moving down the concrete tarmac at a good clip, Ayden backed off the power slightly to let the aircraft coast on its momentum. From there, it was only a matter of keeping the Mad Dog straight with small corrections to the steering tiller.

By now, the cabin crew had begun their mandatory safety briefing for the passengers. The familiar voice of Mary could be heard over the cabin PA system as the setter recited the lengthy speech with calm authority, never missing a beat. Both pilots could practically recite the speech from memory. When you heard the same spiel over and over again, it just sort of got stuck in your head.

In case of emergencies... mobile phones should be turned off... fasten your seatbelt with the buckle... comply with posted or lit signs... the words never changed.

Surely if the pilots were sick of hearing it, there was no doubt that the flight attendants felt the same way, if not more so. After all, while the Irish setter recited the briefing, the other two flight attendants actually had to stand in the aisle and demonstrate how to use the safety equipment. This included showing how to fasten a seatbelt; just on the off chance a passenger had no idea how to use such a simple device... which, shockingly enough, did happen from time to time.

In the growing silence of the cockpit, Ayden decided he could bend the Sterile Cockpit rules just a tad. "I always feel bad for the flight attendants. They have such a rough job."

Ella regarded him questioningly for just a moment, before her gaze fell back behind to the cockpit door sealing them off from the galley, where Mary was undoubtedly standing as she continued on. "If it weren't for them, we'd be dealing with angry passengers while trying to fly the plane," the collie replied. "Not a fun thought."

Ayden uttered a short, contrite laugh. "No kidding. Most of us pilots take them for granted."

As the Boeing 767 turned off the tarmac onto the perpendicular taxiway, Ayden made sure to fall in behind with a quick burst of power from the engine. Now the MD-88 passed over to the runway ground controller, and after the ramp handler had said as much, Ella acknowledged the handover and promptly switched the radio frequency onto the next channel.

What greeted both pilots over their headsets was nothing less than ordered madness. The frequency controlled all the taxi space between the airport tarmac, runway 9L/27R, and runway 9R/27L. Therefore, at any given moment, the single controller directing the aircraft within this set area was juggling, on average, around fifteen planes at any given point; and that was when things weren't busy.

Ayden never understood how air traffic controllers managed to keep everything flowing smoothly, relatively speaking. Right now, at his first glance out the cockpit window, there were at least twenty aircraft moving about, some heading toward the terminal after landing, others vying for a slot in the queue waiting for takeoff clearance. Considering all arriving flights had to cross over the runway being used for takeoff, it was a wonder the traffic jam wasn't worse than it was.

With the runway now in sight, along with the line of aircraft queued up for takeoff, it was time for the pilots to start the other engine.

"Starting Number Two," First Officer Thomas announced.

The spooling of the second engine could only just be heard over the ambiance of the cockpit, accompanied by the steadily rising readouts across the console dials that both pilots monitored. At the predetermined RPM, the fuel pump was switched on, and in a rush, ignition kicked in to bring the displays up to the same level as Engine One.

"Engine Two start complete," Ella called out. Just then the display readouts on the captain's side of the cockpit flickered as electrical power was transferred to the second engine's generator.

Simultaneously, the ground frequency came to life in the pilots' headsets. "Delta 1283, monitor Tower on one two three point eight five, have a nice flight."

Ella keyed the mic in reply. "One twenty-three, eighty-five, 1283." The collie dialed in the new radio frequency while Ayden gradually brought the plane to a stop at the tail end of the waiting aircraft line behind their chase 767. At the moment, there were two rows of planes side-by-side, indicating just how backed up the airport was getting with its departures.

First Officer Thomas cleared her throat before toggling the mic once more. "Atlanta Tower, Delta 1283 with you for nine left."

The reply was quick and crisp. "Delta 1283, number seven for takeoff; follow the company 7-3 on your left."

"Number seven for takeoff, follow company 7-3, 1283."

Both pilots turned their gaze out the side window to the Boeing 737 on their flank.

"Busy day," Ayden remarked with a shrug.

Ella took a moment to adjust the headset resting on her ears. "True... it could be a lot worse though." She raised an eyebrow as their eyes met. "Going to talk to the passengers?"

Ayden made a show of feigned exasperation. "Oh alright... if I have to." He reached down to switch his headset's channel to the cabin PA system.

The collie simply rolled her eyes in response.

"Good evening from the flight deck," the Belgian shepherd began, making sure to don his most professional voice. "This is your captain, Lucas Duke speaking. Hope you all are having a fine afternoon. With me today is my trusty sidekick Bo Duke, and together we will be your pilots for this relatively short trip up to Philly."

Ayden paused long enough to steal a glance at Ella, who looked back with a mixed expression of disbelief and surprise. "We're glad you could join us as we test out The General Lee's newly installed wings. Hopefully, our test flight will go smoothly enough."

The malinois checked his watch. "Estimated flight time from gate to gate is about two hours and fourteen minutes... putting us in to Philly at about 2:29pm. The weather looks good all across our flight path. Should be smooth flying all the way in."

By now, the collie had planted her face in a hand with a shake of the head.

"We're number seven for departure... so sit back and enjoy the flight. Once they finish building the ramp at the end of the runway, we can get on our way!"

The pilots could actually hear the muffled laughter of the passengers through the cockpit door.

"Flight attendants please prepare doors for departure and cross check," the shepherd added, before switching back to the tower frequency.

"That's... that's a new one," Ella finally managed, upon catching the malinois's cheeky grin.

"What? You don't like being Bo?"

The Border collie scoffed at his words. "If anything, I'm Lucas, and you're Bo."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Ayden replied, still grinning.

The line of aircraft slowly progressed as one after the other, planes roared down the runway to the guttural rumble of spooling turbine engines. Soon the 737 in front of them came around to line up on the runway centerline.

In the meantime, Ayden and his copilot still had procedures to finish.

"Line-Up Check," the shepherd called out. A quick pause to find his place. "Cabin."

"Secured," Ella replied. A quick call from Mary had confirmed that item moments ago.

"Windows." Ayden looked over to check his side. "Left side closed."

"Right side closed."

"Ignition."

Ella kept up the rapid-fire challenge and reply tempo. "A/B."

"Air Conditioning Supply."

"Auto."

"Transponder."

"Set," the collie spoke crisply.

Ayden looked up from his checklist. "And takeoff clearance."

"To Come," was the final response from the copilot. "Line-Up Checklist complete."

The steadily building roar of noise outside the cockpit announced the impending departure of the 737. At first, the plane held steady on the runway, until the pilot slipped the brakes as power was advanced to takeoff levels.

The aircraft rapidly accelerated away from the end of the runway, leaving the MD-88 behind as it rocketed down the concrete. However, before the plane had rotated off the runway, the tower controller came over the air traffic control frequency."

"Delta 1283, line up and wait."

Without waiting for Ella to reply, Ayden advanced the throttles smartly, quickly moving his plane toward the runway surface. In such a busy airport environment, any delay getting into position could have ripple effects for flights that followed.

"Line up and wait, 1283," First Officer Thomas replied.

While Ayden brought the plane onto the runway centerline, the collie reached over to toggle the landing lights on the wingtips and nose wheel, as well as the anti-collision strobes. Even during daylight operations, these safety measures were required at all times whenever an aircraft occupied a runway.

In a show of his skill and practice, Ayden brought the nose wheel to rest atop the painted runway centerline, just as the 737 before them took to the sky against the backdrop of the airport and distant horizon.

The malinois zeroed the tiller, and then took his hand off the controls. "You have the aircraft," he stated, allowing Ella to grasp the control yoke with both hands.

"I have the aircraft," the collie repeated, completing the formality of the transfer. The MD-88 was now in her hands for the remaining duration of the trip.

The two pilots conducted one last safety check of all critical systems, and then... for the briefest of instants, went silent.

Both Ella and Ayden simply gazed down the slightly sloped concrete surface of the runway, reveling in the splendor of the moment. This was the tranquil calm before takeoff, the moment before they finally took to the skies to defy the laws of gravity in nothing less than spectacular fashion. No matter how many times a pilot performed a takeoff, whether routine or not, there was always this distinctive thrill that was felt as the throttles were advanced to full. You just couldn't beat it.

"Delta 1283, winds ten knots at one ten degrees, cleared for takeoff."

The ATC callout snapped both pilots out of their thoughts.

"Cleared for takeoff," Ella responded. The collie looked over to Ayden. "Ready?"

"Ready here."

She flexed her grip on the control yoke. "Takeoff."

In reply to her words, Ayden brought a hand down to advance the throttles to about quarter thrust. Immediately, the MD-88 began to roll down the runway as additional power was swiftly added up to the takeoff setting. "Takeoff power set," the shepherd called out.

The whine of the straining engines was clearly audible above the rapidly growing sound of air rushing by the forward window. Through it all, the force of the substantial thrust being generated pushed the pilots back into their seats, while the plane's speed picked up quickly.

Ayden kept his eyes on the airspeed readout. "Eighty knots," he spoke up through the heightening noise within the cockpit.

By now the airport scenery was flying by their viewpoint. The runway before them was rapidly being used up.

Yet, the captain kept his eyes on the airspeed all the while. "V1."

V1 was the effective point of no return for an aircraft. When that particular speed was reached, there was no hope of stopping before the end of the runway. Even if an engine failed now, the pilots still had to get the crippled bird into the air.

"Rotate."

At Ayden's callout, Ella deftly pulled back on the control yoke, commanding the horizontal stabilizer to push the nose upward.

Immediately, the view within the cockpit changed as the aircraft pitched up away from the ground. The rumble of the nose wheel rolling across the runway suddenly fell off, leaving only the noisy rush of air against the windscreen.

There was an awkward instant as the MD-88 continued its rotation, until finally the main landing gear came off the runway.

As the ground promptly fell away from the cockpit view, Ayden turned his attention to the vertical speed indicator.

"Positive rate," the shepherd spoke.

Ella continued to hold the plane in a steady climb. "Gear up."

At once Captain Rhodes complied as he reached over to flip the landing gear lever. Above the handle, the three green lights that had indicated all three landing gear struts were down and locked turned red. For a moment the captain watched, until one by one, each indicator went dark, signifying that no failures had occurred. "Gear up."

The MD-88 continued its steady climb through 1,000 feet.

"Flaps," Ella called out next.

The shepherd leaned over to throw the flaps handle to the zero degree setting. With the plane now climbing up safely toward its cruising altitude, the need for additional lift was no longer required.

Across both wings, the slats and flaps slowly retracted back up into the wing structure, modifying the plane's profile into a more streamlined configuration for cruise flight. Back in the cockpit, Ayden waited for the indicators to read the proper setting. "Flaps retracted," he replied. "That wraps up another successful takeoff."

The Belgian shepherd allowed himself a sigh of relief; they were airborne.

Finally, after all the tedious preparation and procedures, the pilots could now allow themselves to relax slightly as the autopilot took over for the cruise portion of the flight.

Delta Flight 1283 was well on its way.

***************

How had he ended up here?

Hadn't he made all the right decisions?

Why was fate so harsh?

Surely he deserved better than this hellish existence...

For a flight attendant, there were quite a number of nuisances that needed to be put up with. From demanding or unruly passengers, to cut wages and longer work hours, the job was just brutal for a fur to endure at times. Yet, there was little a steward could do about it. You were the pawn of the airlines, free for the company to toss around at their will.

Just what had happened to the industry? There was a time when working as a flight attendant had been enjoyable for Allan Jacobs. But now? The job had become a personal hell for the Labrador.

After giving so many years to the airline, he now found himself demoted down to a lowly cabin attendant aboard the airline's less desirable aircraft, working longer hours for less pay than his previous assignment... years of loyalty shunned just to turn a profit.

Yes, the airline sector was struggling to keep pace with rising fuel costs and falling passenger demand. It was the inevitable raise and fall of an industry that so closely followed in the wake of global recession and prosperity. But why allow the employees to take the brunt of it all? Was there no justice?

The thought gnawed at the steward, only worsening his mood as the MD-88 swiftly climbed up toward its cruising altitude.

Allan remained strapped into his jump seat within the galley, his back to the cockpit door. The Labrador's viewpoint was actually facing backward into the first class seats and coach beyond. None of the passengers paid the steward any mind. Instead, some were engrossed in newspapers, while others listened to MP3 players or cranked away on laptops. They were all self-indulgent, worthless pieces of society... that he had to cater to, hand and paw.

Sitting there, making sure to keep his expression impassive, the Labrador's thoughts wandered back through his life, through every bad decision he had made that had landed him here aboard this very aircraft. It had all gone so terribly wrong.

There was nothing to look forward to, nothing that he could strive to accomplish. This was where his life would end, stuck aboard planes just like this one, dealing with obnoxious and rude passengers that didn't give a rat's ass about his wellbeing.

No...

Allan wouldn't let it come to that. He would be the decider of his own fate.

The steward's muzzle curled upward ever so slightly in a sinister smile, just barely gracing the corners of his lips.

Yes... he would control his own fate, and those of these undeserving bastards that he now faced. Let them be lulled into a false sense of security. He would have his retribution for all the wrong they had caused him.

His gaze briefly moved to settle on a small storage locker within the galley, which contained the Labrador's duffle bag.

Only Allan knew of the Colt M1911 handgun tucked safely away within the unassuming carry-on bag, along with the homemade pipe bomb of his own making. Simply smuggling the weapons aboard had required nothing less than the upmost careful planning and action. And now, it was time to carry out his final fateful act. All the Labrador had to do was wait for the right moment... and then he would go out with a bang.

Delta Flight 1283 would never make it to Philadelphia.